The Battle for Houston...The Aftermath (35 page)

There were many hands and again Mike Mallory, Preston and Carlos were overlooked. Michael Roebels wasn’t going out without a fight and stood up to ask a question.

“Please sit down,” the Speaker stated arrogantly. “I have not yet made a decision.”

“Since several months ago the president asked me to oversee the country’s reconstruction efforts, I think I have the right to ask a question, Mr. Speaker.” The House speaker ignored the statement and picked another member of the Senate.

“Mr. Speaker,” interrupted the president. “I think Mr. Roebels has a valid point, and the members of the House have already had their five questions. Mr. Roebels, go ahead please.”

“Michael Roebels, California. Mr. Bowers, it seems that you are far ahead in your ideas of our country’s current reconstruction. To date we have Silicone Valley and one small part of San Francisco under electrical power. To power the entire United States could take anywhere from one to three decades. As you well know, Mr. Bowers, the government, the treasury, the banks and other financial institutions need electricity to operate. Second, the farmers already have enough growing crops to supply our reduced population for this summer and plan to have the country’s food plants and bottling and canning operations operational before winter. These programs are at the top of the list. Surely getting your corporations up to speed should not be placed as a higher priority than our current actions.”

Bowers answered, “Mr. Roebels has brought up some good points. First, yes, food is a priority and Mr. Westbrook’s company can feed the world; second, a point you didn’t bring up—without electricity country-wide, hospitals won’t work, the sick will not be cared for, people will continue to die and our population suffers. I hear you do have electricity and computers, and we feel that our companies should have everything you have to offer, for at least the next few years, to get us up and running so that we can help the world survive. I’m sure you, Mr. Roebels, will understand that our program is the right one and the president, the leader of this country, will aim this reconstruction program in the way it is supposed to be. That is his job, Mr. Roebels, not yours. It will be the job of the Congress, to make sure that people like you can survive. I have asked the president to prioritize the formation of a new House and Senate as soon as possible and that should take priority over anything else, other than keeping our fellow citizens alive.” Unabated he turned towards the President of the United States. “Mr. President, I think we are done with this line of questioning.”

Preston was angry. He was really pissed off at this man’s arrogant attitude toward the president and Martie’s father, and stood up.

“And if we vote no, that your projects don’t take priority, what happens next, Mr. Bowers?”

The Speaker banged his gravel and asked for the question to be ignored and that Preston sit down.

“No!” stated Martie standing up next to Preston. “Let him answer it Mr. Politician. There was much agreement, and the Speaker looked for guards to evict the trouble makers. There were none.

“I think Mr. Bowers should answer the question, Mr. Speaker,” added Mike Mallory standing up. There was agreement as a dozen more stood up muttering the same.

The gravel sounded, and for the second time the president intervened.

“I think that is a logical question, Mr. Speaker, and since Mr. Bowers just stated that as president, I am currently in charge of this country—and that includes this Chamber—I order you, Mr. Speaker, to allow the question.”

Preston and Bowers were the only people left standing.

“Who are you young man?” Bowers asked smiling.

“Preston Strong, North Carolina,” Preston replied.

“I will say this once, Mr. Strong. We will not have another meeting about this issue whether you vote for, or against our needs. We know that certain members of Congress will vote for us and most of you unelected citizens will vote against us. But I will give you one word of warning Mr. Strong, if we don’t get our companies up and running very soon, this country won’t survive.”

Preston noticed that the man’s smile remained frozen on his face. He was sure of himself, and Preston realized that he didn’t actually care.

“That sounds like Armageddon,” Mr. Bowers, Preston countered. There was absolute silence.

“Take it how you want, Mr. Strong. Mr. Westbrook and my other colleagues are not going to stay around to hear the vote. All we have done here today is to bring our message of reconstruction to Washington. If Washington doesn’t hear us, then we will have to accept that. Mr. President, members of Congress, and public citizens, have a nice day. We are out of here.” And without another word the four men left the Chamber. There was absolute silence as they left.

The vote ended the way Preston knew it would; the president had ensured the outcome by inviting more members of the public than members of government. The vote ended with nine for, and forty-seven against. Many in the meeting were shocked at how many politicians had actually voted for the corporations.

Not far behind the four visitors, Preston and several others headed out to be taxied over to Andrews. The four men were a speck in the distance once the helicopter Preston was in left the ground. General Patterson had already been told the four men were returning and they were already on their helicopter’s radio finding out if both their aircraft had been refueled and were ready to depart.

Preston, Carlos, Martie and Sally were in the first helicopter to land, and it was directed close to the operations room where the general was waiting for them. They entered as the first Gulfstream trundled out of the hangar and was cleared for taxi and takeoff.

“It seems that Mark Weinstein and Paul Proker, the CEOs from the drug companies
Hearst
and
Decibel
are the first out of the door,” stated General Patterson as the four entered. “Also, Westbrook and Bowers are having one long argument in the hangar. There was a slight problem with a small malfunction in their aircraft. And it is not the one Mo and Lee got into, so it’s not our fault,” he smiled.

“They must have swapped aircraft,” stated Preston.

“It seems so. Bowers and Westbrook had a discussion with one of the Chinese engineers when they returned, and the cameras showed Westbrook telling Weinstein and Proker to get aboard, take half of their guards, and take off first. Bowers had a long conversation with the pilots while the luggage was switched around and I think they are on to us being inside that aircraft.”

“So they are taking the safer one,” stated Carlos. “No honor amongst thieves,” he added.

“We have all aircraft refueled and airborne, except the Hurricane Hunter in Alaska,” continued the general. “The aircraft is still an hour out from Elmendorf, and I was told would need 90 minutes to refuel. The Gulfstreams will take five hours to get there anyway, so I think our web is ready to keep our eyes on them. We have two AC-130s in Canadian airspace, one more on the U.S.-Canadian border, three C-130s over Greenland and Iceland, in case they outwit us and head for Europe, and two more C-130s over the center of the country. I don’t believe they can get out of our web without our knowledge.”

“Where is the second Hurricane Tracker?” Preston asked.

“She is also in Canadian airspace about 50 miles northeast of Resolution Bay and in an hour will turn around and head in a southeasterly direction towards Vancouver. I want her to have as small a radar footprint as she can throw out, hopefully keep the two Gulfstreams on her higher frequency weather instruments, and look like a routine flight from northern Canada to western Canada. I heard about the arrogant way those two men strutted around talking to you guys, and I’m sure they will expect to see other aircraft in the skies. If they go through the same corridor where they came in, I want them to think that they are seeing routine flights around the country; they won’t realize that our delicate weather instruments are watching them.”

For three hours, tabs were kept on both aircraft. Mo and Lee arrived to join the men while Buck flew the rest of the North Carolina crowd back home in
Lady Dandy
.

The two Gulfstreams were 60 minutes apart and both flew out over St. John’s, Newfoundland, as any of last year’s civilian aircraft flying to Europe would have done. The first one disappeared off the Andrews radar twenty minutes before it reached the Icelandic coast, but was picked up by the radar of the C-130 fifty miles east of Iceland and flying on a regular route from Europe which would take it into JFK.

“
Gulfstream losing altitude rapidly, currently at 23,000 feet and turning east, directly towards us. I haven’t got the visual on the second Gulfstream yet,”
one of the C-130 crew stated into a satellite phone, and not the aircraft’s radio.

“Stay on your course and keep the aircraft on radar, we still have the second Gulfstream on several other units,” replied General Patterson, allowing the conversation to be on speaker.

“
Roger that. Our altitude is Flight Level 21 and they have descended through 17,000 feet, 100 miles ahead of us.”

“Turning slowly and I’m sure thinking that this is for our information, in case we are watching,” General Patterson added.

“
Aircraft is down to 10,000 feet and still heading due east, 9,000, 8,000, 7,000, 6,000, and looks like she is going to go below 5,000, 4,000, 3,500. She is starting to turn south at 2,500 feet and in a steep dive as her altitude is still dropping. She looks like she is leveling out at 1,000 feet and the Gulfstream is now heading south and twenty miles out from the Icelandic coast at a slow 350 knots. It looks like she has leveled at 900 feet, and about 40 miles north of the southern tip of Iceland. We can just keep her on our screens. Hold on, she is turning eastwards. The Gulfstream is turning towards the north, twelve miles out from Reykjavik and going even lower to 700 feet, still at 350 knots. If she gets any lower we will lose her.”

“She will expect you guys to have seen her go down, head towards her position where she began to descend and complete a dozen circles. What is the weather like?”

“
Clear, beautiful day, high stratus clouds, visibility 100 miles,”
was the reply.

“OK! Charlie-130 act like you are worried where she is; complete a dozen circles. We want them to think you are looking for aircraft debris, and then resume your course into JFK. That should give you twenty minutes before the second Gulfstream gets to the same location and you will be only 50 miles west of them, if they try the same trick.”

Much like playing a game of chess, General Patterson moved his web to tighten around the Canadian coast, so that if the Gulfstream did head in that direction at 700 feet, somebody would see them.

The second Gulfstream, seeing the C-130 on their radar screen, continued past Iceland and an hour later disappeared from view on all radars.

“We are about to lose her,” stated the same airman in the C-130, now 300 miles west of Iceland, as the Gulfstream descended down through 2,000 feet a hundred miles east of Iceland and was heading south when it left their radar screen.

“Now it’s wait time. I have a C-130 heading north over Hudson Bay for Cambridge Bay, a couple of hundred miles southwest of Resolute Bay, and if they go through the sea corridor, they should be visible from both aircraft. We know they have radar jamming devices aboard and if they use them, then we will lose radar from the C-130 but the Hurricane Hunter will still have them visual. Also I have an AC-130 gunship heading due north to Cambridge Bay. She will pick them up with infra-red or heat.”

For the next couple of hours the two aircraft were spied on. As Carlos expected, they flew through the large, wide open water lane from eastern Canada to western Canada, now forty-five minutes apart and at 3,000 feet above sea level. To reduce fuel consumption, both aircraft had throttled back to a low cruise of 330 knots. Over Greenland they rose higher to get better economy, but descended down near to sea level once they got closer to the Canadian coast.

South of Resolute Bay, the open-water corridor was close to 250 miles wide and both aircraft stayed 240 miles south of Resolute Bay. Here, the Hurricane Hunter lost them, high cliffs making their electronic systems go fuzzy, but twenty minutes later the aircraft moved into the more open water of the Viscount Melville Sound, and their extremely faint bleeps were picked up again.

It was dark, and dinner was served in the ops room as the lead aircraft left the McClure Strait and rose in altitude to 10,000 feet and headed westwards towards the Beaufort Sea. The second aircraft did the same forty-five minutes later.

“
Happy Harry to base, we have lost visual on the first aircraft,”
reported the second Hurricane Hunter by satellite phone over southern Alaska three hours later.

“What!” stated General Patterson over the operations room satellite phone still on speaker-phone. “How could that happen? What were the last coordinates?”

“
Don’t know, Sir. She suddenly lost altitude. She was flying at 15,000 feet, and I heard a short radio transmission about changing to reserves, and seconds later the first Gulfstream went into a dive and I lost her going through 500 feet. She had just turned southwest and over the Chukchi Sea, fifty miles from the Alaskan shoreline. She was about to fly over the Bering Strait. Pilot thinks she went straight in, sir. He reckons that there was something wrong with her reserves.”

“Roger that,” replied General Patterson. “Head southwest towards Anchorage, the second aircraft should be on your system by now, about 500 miles behind the first one. Tell the pilot to get you into a position so that you can monitor the Bering Strait and south. I want to know if they are heading into Russian airspace, or our own.”

“
We are turning southwest, Sir.”

“I think we must have taken out something important,” stated Lee, Mo nodding in agreement.

“Well, they could still be flying below 500 feet, a jet fighter with the right equipment could do so, but with the photos you took of the cockpit interior, Lee, our technicians couldn’t see any modern equipment added to do this.”