Two flash grenades and six shots later, the Circle soldiers were dead, and two more young girls were liberated.
The troopers accompanying them quickly went into action. Some took up guard positions while others started fiddling around with the radar sets. The controls were Soviet in manufacture, but the PAAC guys ' could operate them nevertheless.
"Typical Russian set-up," Hunter said studying the hardware. Three main radar set-ups, set for triangu-lation. The main bases coordinate data and send it to then-AA and SAM teams, as well as their air traffic controllers at National."
"Well, if the other units were as successful as this," Stagg said, "then well be controlling all the main radar sets in the city."
Hunter nodded. "That's the idea ..." he said.
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By the time Hunter, Dozer and Stagg arrived back at Boiling, the sun was coming up.
Already two United American C-141 transports had arrived, they being routinely cleared to land by "other voices" in the Boiling control tower and guided unhindered through the air space by the UA troops now manning the Circle radar sets.
But although things had gone smoothly so far, Hunter knew they would have to work very quickly. According to the latest information from Yaz and Shane, the Circle demonstration was scheduled to start just after noon. This was when a high-level Circle offi- , cial was to light the match to set fire to the towering spiral of books and thereby begin the holocaust which : would destroy a large piece of America.
:
Two more C-141s came in as Hunter was taking the stairs two at a time up to the control tower, Dozer and Stagg on his heels. He was glad to see General Jones sitting at the main control panel, personally directing the big planes in for landings.
"I guess we have to assume that the other two trucks reached their objectives," Hunter said to Jones.
"Affirmative, Hawk," the man replied. "But I just hope they can carry out the ruse long enough for us to get set. I mean, eventually, someone's going to come to relieve those radar teams and boom! the game is up."
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"Well be ready before then," Hunter assured nun. "We'll send out some choppers once they get here to pull those guys out if need be."
Their attention was turned back to the large radar screen in front of them.
"Five more blips," he said. "The rest of the C-141s, I hope."
Jones did a double-check and nodded. "It's them," he said. "Once they're down we'll have close to a battalion of the paratroopers here . . ."
Stagg whistled. "Nine hundred guys against, what? twenty-thirty thousand Circle troops? You guys do like to bet long-shots, don't you?"
"It's like a second nature to us now," Hunter replied.
Three more blips appeared and then the screen was clear.
'Those will be the last of our supply C-130s," Jones said. "Once they come in, just about the whole party will be here, at least for the opening bell."
Their plan was an involved and-complicated one. First of all they intended to move on Washington with the 900 paratroopers and at least disrupt the demonstration for as long as possible. It was simply a time-delaying tactic: the main bulk of the United American force was barreling down Route 81 from Syracuse at the moment, all of the UA's available aircraft-fighters and fighter-bombers, the attack planes, even one of the two C-5s-clearing away any opposition in front of them. It was a 400-mile trip, moving upwards of 30,000
men in a convoy made up of everything and anything that could move. Hunter and Jones knew it would take at least 20 hours for the first elements to reach the DC area under the best of circumstances. But they also knew they couldn't wait that long. The priceless icons of American culture would just be cinders when the troops arrived. So this preemptive action
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was necessary in an effort-although a slim one-to buy some time.
"How long do you estimate it will take to walk the paratroopers over to DC?"
Jones asked Dozer.
The Marine captain thought for a moment. "Assuming those MiGs over at National leave us alone, I think they could double-time it in less than two hours," he said. "But they wont be ready to move out for at least another ninety minutes."
Jones checked his watch. "It's eight now," he said. "That puts us in DC at eleven thirty. That will still be cutting it close."
"Do you think we have to make some noise before that?" Hunter asked Jones. "A pre-pre-emptive action?"
Jones nodded slowly. "I think we do," he said somberly. "We have to distract them. Get them riled up, let 'em know we're in the area."
"But they're smart enough to know we're not going to launch an air strike against them," Dozer said. "Then we'd be doing their bloody work for them, torching everything in sight. . ."
Hunter was looking down on the runway, watching a Blackhawk helicopter being pulled out of the back of one of the recently arrived C-130s. The sun was fully up now, and he could see some movement at the enemy base at National, just across the river. Amazingly enough, no one over there had paid any attention to what was going on just across the river from them.
"I have an idea," Hunter said suddenly. "If we just want to shake them a little. But I'll need that chopper down there. And two volunteers . . ."
Yaz and Shane were huddled together at the edge of Lafayette Park. Most of the rest of the 25 undercover Rangers were close by, as were a newly arrived contingent of Circle Army guards.
It was 10:30 A.M., just 90 minutes before "The Cleansing" was about to start.
"Maybe they were caught," Yaz was saying. "Maybe they were just plain found out when the first airplane came in and that was it."
Shane shook his head, as much as to shake away his own concerns as anything else. "You know these guys," he said. "Hunter. Jones. Dozer. They wont stop at anything. None of them will. . . Believe me, even if those three are lying in a ditch dead somewhere, they made back-up plans, you can be sure of that. We just have to sit tight and see what happens."
Yaz looked around him. There was a tension in the air so thick, he could feel it in his bones. About ten minutes earlier some Circle guards got trigger happy and shot down two elderly men and a woman. For little reason. The brutal deathat had swept a wave of fear through the tired, battered and beaten civilians.
Despite Shane's brave words, Yaz felt a cloud of despair forming over them all at that moment. Suddenly, they heard an unusual sound . . . "Is that a chopper?" Yaz asked Shane, scanning the sky directly above them.
"Can't be," the Ranger leader replied. "I ain't seen a Circle chopper since the battle out in Nebraska . . ."
Yet the noise was getting closer and it sounded like the unmistakable whup-whup-whup of chopper
blades.
Then Yaz saw an amazing sight. Just beyond them, over near the White House, there was another large group of civilians. They could see. something he, Shane and the others could not. And they were cheering . . . "Look at those people!" Yaz said to Shane. The crowd was up and jumping and pointing up to the sky. The Circle guards surrounding them waded through the crowd, battering anyone standing back to their knees with the butts of their rifles. Yet, try as they might, they could not stop the people from jumping up and cheering.
"What the hell is going on?" Shane asked. Now more people nearer to them were doing the same thing. Jumping up, pointing to the sky and cheering-full-lunged wailing . . .
All the while the chopper noise was getting nearer. Even more people were screaming, yelling, crying for joy. The cheers turned into a roar, even drowning out the noise of the helicopter.
"This is weird . . ." Shane said. Because of their location it seemed like everyone but them could see something approaching in the air. Whatever it was, it had suddenly rejuvenated the listless, defeated, demoralized crowd. A spark of life was now running through them ...
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Then Yaz saw it.
It was still a way off, but it was unmistakable. Shane and the other Rangers finally saw it too.
"Five bags of gold says that's Hunter up there!" Shane yelled above the ever-increasing roar.
They all watched-Yaz feeling a dozen emotions ripping through him. He was joyful to the point of tears, angry at The Circle to the point of murder . . .
Within ten seconds the helicopter was right over them. The Circle guards started shooting at it, but they knew it was no use. Nothing short of a SAM
could bring it down. Yaz found himself cheering and laughing with the hundreds-now thousands-of other captured civilians.
They were proud citizens all who saw the Blackhawk helicopter fly over-towing the huge American flag behind it ...
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As frequently was the case, the overall Circle Army Commander for Washington-five star General Zolly Budd-was the last to learn that an enemy aircraft was flying through his airspace.
"He's pulling a what?" Budd screamed into radio microphone.
Riding beside him in his staff car was the Soviet general in charge of Psych-Ops for America, and a lieutenant general of the Spetsnaz. They had been on their way for an inspection tour of the book tower when Budd received the report of the strange helicopter buzzing the capital.
"We have no idea where he came from," the major on the other end of the line was telling him. "Some of our troops reported seeing the helicopter land over near the Viet Nam Memorial about thirty minutes ago and pick up the large Iwo Jima flag. The helicopter carried no marking, but they just assumed that it was one of ours . . ."
"One of ours!" General Budd shouted. "We haven't had a helicopter in this army in over a year!"
The major at the other end was almost too fright—
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ened to reply.
"What should we do, General?" he finally raised the gumption to ask.
"What the hell do you think?" Budd roared back. "Shoot the damn thing down!
Scramble jets if you have to!"
He hung up the phone and stared into the faces of the two Soviets. Neither could understand English-at least that's what he had been told. But their interpreter, a Spetsnaz lieutenant, was all ready with a question.
"My officers want to know what the problem is ..." / he said. Having already eavesdropped on the converse^ tion, the interpreter already had a pretty good idea what had happened.
"A slight security matter," Budd lied, wondering at the same time how anyone within 200 miles of Washington could have gotten hold of a Blackhawk and had the out-and-out balls to steal the flag and brazenly fly it over the capital.
The interpreter translated the remark, along with what he had heard in the radio conversation.
The Soviet general rattled off a long spiel of Russian, which the interpreter translated for Budd: "The general wants to know if this 'slight security matter' will affect the timing of the Cleansing . . ."
Budd quickly shook his head. "No," he said. "Not by more than a few minutes anyway . . ."
The two Soviet officers looked at him sternly after hearing the translation.
Then they conversed between themselves, occasionally asking the translator a question. The conversation ended with the three Soviets giving out a loud, somewhat sinister laugh, before fixing their gaze on Budd.
That's when they spotted the chopper . . .
It was flying back over the White House now, the gigantic flag fluttering behind it. A huge roar went up
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from the crowds in the immediate area, followed by several bursts of gunfire.
The Soviets in the back of the open staff car were astonished to see the helicopter, flying somewhat wildly, racing through the sky no more than 250
feet off the ground. At that moment a small SAM went up some blocks away, missing the chopper by a quarter of a mile. The helicopter had already taken evasive measures and now had disappeared from their view.
There was another long discussion among the Soviets, and this one didn't end with a laugh.
"My general suggests that you proceed with the Cleansing as quickly as possible," the translator told Budd. "He sees this helicopter as a bad omen for things to come."
Budd was not a follower of astrology-although he had heard it had once been the rage in Washington. But it didn't take a soothatayer to figure out what the bad omen the Soviets foresaw for him should the Cleansing not go off as planned.
The scene at Lafayette Park was getting ugly.
The revived citizens, their internal fires of pride and patriotism rekindled by the sight of the American flag flying by, now began to get restless. Two Circle guards, sensing the crowd's sudden turn in mood, panicked. When a small group of citizens refused to obey the guard's orders to sit down and stop cheering, the soldiers opened fire. They sprayed the rebellious knot of people with machine-gun bullets, killing at least a dozen of them and wounding many more.
Suddenly all the cheering did stop. A strange silence fen upon the crowd even as the echoing of the gunshots was fading away. Would the citizens obey now that they had seen twelve of their number brutally cut down? Or would they decide, en masse, what many Americans
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before them had decided: that death before dishonor is the code of all freedom-loving people everywhere. No matter who the oppressor may be-communist, fascist, bigot, those who would impose one religion on another or those who would disallow one from worshipping at all-there was a time to rise up, to draw the line and shout, "No more!"
The time of the turning had come.
Two men jumped the pair of Circle soldiers from behind and started pummeling them with their fists. More soldiers appeared and more shots were fired. /
More civilians died. But then more rose up and attacked those soldiers. And then there was more gunplay.
Sitting some distance away from all this, Shane, Yaz and the rest of the undercover Rangers were alarmed at the sudden turn of events.
"Jesus, these people will get themselves killed before the cavalry arrives,"
Shane said in an urgent whisper.