Chapter 27

Frazer’s 15 July, 1800 Hours

‘So I take it you’re not ready to die yet?’ John asked the American captain, whose nametag was on his flight suit. Philips. ‘You’re the President’s grandson, yes?’

‘If I am?’

‘A smart arse as well, huh? Do you know who that other fella in there with you is?’

‘Which one?’

‘Pillman.’

Philips sat down, his hands still tied up. ‘He’s a good soldier. Takes orders without question.’

‘He’s a killer,’ Richard countered. ‘Do you know what you are really doing here?’

‘Yes, flight time. Getting my hours up for a command posting.’

‘You’re dumber than I thought. You’re out here, not in a real uniform, flying a killing machine that attacks civilian targets. Doesn’t that seem a little strange to you?’

‘I’m an American Marine pilot. I do what I’m told when I’m told.’

Richard walked over to him, grabbed his head and twisted. He pushed it back. ‘Clean skin.’

‘What’s that all about?’ Philips demanded.

‘You’re not the enemy, but you are working for the enemy.’

‘Don’t follow?’

‘When you get back into the room with Pillman, check out the three small dots behind his left ear. Ask him what they’re for and what his NWC are about to do.’ John walked him back to the cell. ‘Ask him.’

An hour later, Max walked past the door. Philips called him over.

‘Need to see Kelly and the other guy now.’

‘Did he tell you?’ John asked

‘It’s madness. You’ve just signed another recruit Major Kelly. I can’t believe my grandfather is behind this.’

‘Him and many other millionaires, son. They want total control of the world and will stop at nothing to get it. So you see we’re just trying to save our own country. We mean no harm but will destroy our enemies come hell or high water. In Australia, we have something called mateship. It’s earned, not given. Take on one Aussie and you take us all on.’

‘Well, this Yank is not going to stand back and let this happen. Pillman said something about 2pm tomorrow.’

‘H hour, son, H hour,’ John said. ‘I need you to prove yourself. Out behind those hills are tanks. You and Patch are going to go out there and put ʼem out of action before our humble house is a pile of rocks. You up for that, maybe even killing some of your own countrymen?’

‘If they are what you say they are, they’re no friends of mine. My dad told me as a kid, never let a bully get away with it. I fly with your man.’

‘Your father’s a wise man,’ John declared, handing Philips a beer. Max removed his ties.

Indigo Base

The small commuter jet set down on the long runway. The pilot was amazed at the row of C130 aircraft and the line of helicopters. These were war machines; he had seen them on TV. He gunned his engines and was soon back in the air.

‘What the fuck?’ Brian said, placing the barrel of his pistol into the man’s stomach. ‘Turn around and put her down.’

‘I land this fucker down there and there is no way I’ll get off the ground again. You’ve got gunships and Hercs. I don’t know what this is all about and I don’t want to get mixed up in it.’

Brian reached over and opened the door. He unclipped the pilot’s seat belt then fired the handgun. He pushed the pilot out. Taking over the controls, he returned to the base.

‘Fuck, my five grand is still in his pocket.’

Taylor came out to welcome them. ‘Your choppers are ready and they know where he is. I’ve got the tanks on the ground as backup. You leave in ten.’

Brian nodded. ‘It’s all go then. You got a layout map?’

Taylor handed it to him. ‘The building is partly destroyed from our last raid.’

‘I want a night drop. Another hour,’ Brian said. ‘My boys are going to take a shower.’

Taylor walked back to the control room and sat down next to the man who would launch the missiles. ‘Have you got them all back?’

‘Sir, and locked our intruder out. Only way he can get into the system is when they fly, and he’d need an HF radio connected to his computer on a splitter device. Oh, and he’d also need to be at around ten thousand feet, or in direct line with a dish that I don’t believe he has.’

‘Good. Make sure those Tridents are first in the air.’

‘Only have one back on line, sir. The others are not accepting my commands.’

‘Keep working on it. H hour is 1400. Order the ground crew to fuel the ICBMs and recheck the Tridents.’

Frazer’s

The Apache lifted off. No lights were visible. Patch was disappointed he was not in the pilot’s seat. The rain continued to belt down. Richard had his men depart. Leaving with the equipment, he hoped the Yank tank crew were on down time with the weather.

The chopper swung south, away from the hills where the tanks were.

‘We’re going to circle and come in behind,’ Philips said, switching on the armaments computer. ‘You ever used one of these?’

‘No,’ Patch replied.

’Okay. Your helmet is your master sights. All the weapons will follow your line of vision.

Select the ammo type stay, lock on and squeeze the little button on your stick. Simple as that.’ Philips handed Patch the control stick for the armaments.

East of Frazer’s Homestead

‘How far to the drop zone?’ Brian asked.

‘Drop in five,’ the pilot said. ‘Better get back and do your checks.’

Brian walked back, holding up five fingers to his three-man team. They began their pre jump checks, then gave a thumbs up.

The rear door of the C130 began to open. Darkness greeted the line of men. It was still raining a little as Brian watched the jump light, waiting for it to turn green.

Green came on. The four men silently slipped into the darkness. Not a trace of them could be seen from the rear of the aircraft, which now banked away from the target and made tracks for the base at Indigo.

Philips, observing this activity in his radarscope, commented, ‘Aircraft in our area at ten thousand. He’s dropped four packages.’

Patch looked at the small screen and saw four small dots appear. ‘What do you make of it?’

‘Parachutes are my guess. Better call your buddies and let them know to expect visitors.’

Patch took the radio, flicked it to the station channel and advised of four incoming by airdrop. Richard soon had his men heading east. His night vision goggles scanned the land, reflecting a green image as he searched for hot spots. He stretched the men out to cover more territory. This type of work was what he was trained for. Hide and seek he called it. The idea was to find and not be found.

Ginger called in; he had spotted one of the chutes, about to land around three thousand ahead. ‘Got a creek line here – make a good fire point.’

Richard and his team veered right and set up a typical frontal ambush; machine gun on the highest ground, AK-47s in close quarters to maximise firepower. The men lay in wait. Rain trickled down their faces. They were used to this type of living.

A branch snapped nearby. Richard honed in on the direction, scanning with his night vision. It was a kangaroo going about its business. He relaxed a little, his finger still resting near the trigger guard. He flicked the safety off. He knew the roo was a dead giveaway.

More noises came from his left. Once again, he scanned. This time it was a mob of roos in a hurry. He spoke quietly into his field comms. ‘Left eleven o’clock, range five hundred. I see two.’

Richard heard the fifty being cocked and the safeties of the other AKs being clicked off. The boys were ready. He waited, wondering how many more were coming, and more to the point, where they were. He gave the order.

‘Flick to night-sites. Pick own targets.’

The Fifty clattered, sending four balls and one trace towards the three men. They hit the deck and were soon returning fire. Brian locked onto the barrel flashes and aimed, controlling his breathing. He squeezed his trigger. He heard the thump of the rounds hitting rocks or timber. He waited again for return fire.

Three bursts of small arms fire came at him. He ducked down into the creek as the bullets zinged overhead. The Fifty cracked again; this time it found a target. He heard the man scream, then the whole area became silent. A trick Richard knew well. Their enemies had embarked on a flanking move. He warned his men. They lay in position for another fifteen minutes; it was still quiet except for the sound of rain falling. He flicked his comms on.

‘They’ve bugged out.’

Richard went to the area where he had heard the man scream and found him propped against a tree with no less than five hits in his body. He had used himself as an attractor so the others could bug out. Not an uncommon trick. He had seen it used many times in Iraq. Draw the fire and give your buddies a fair escape route. Normally done by a wounded bloke who knew his number was up.

We fell for one of the oldest tricks in the book, he thought.

Richard returned to his men. ‘Come on, we’ve gotta get back to the homestead before they do. Can’t use the bikes, they’ll make us a target. We’ve gotta hump it.’

They set off at a pounding pace towards the homestead.

The Chopper

It swung in low. Philips kept it beneath the tree line and switched on the forward scanner. ‘We’ve got six tanks.’

‘Can this machine take ʼem all?’ Patch asked.

‘They’re Abrahams. Toughest bastard of a tank known. If you’re gonna take ʼem on, it has to be from the rear. That’s the thinnest armour.’

He hovered the chopper. The tank troop leader heard the thump of the rotors and waved, thinking it was from the base.

‘They think we’re theirs,’ Philips said. ‘They’re going to get a bit of a shock. You ready with the rockets?’

Patch nodded.

‘Your helmet sight will identify four at a time, then pick the best shot for you. Just keep the cross hairs on the target. Once hit, it will automatically select the second, and so on. I’ll run us down that narrow passage.’

Philips dipped the front of the chopper forward and applied full power. The beast lurched forward. Patch had targets in his sights and saw small numbers come up on his hood. He took the fire stick, selected the sidewinders and pushed the button. The first tank was hit in the rear and was soon in flames. He must have found the gas tank. The crews on the ground ran to their tanks and the turrets were soon pointed at the chopper.

Philips lowered the aircraft, skimming over the ground, skids swiping small trees. Patch fired again, but the front of the turret took the hit. Nothing seemed to happen. He selected Manual Target Acquire, fixed the cross hairs onto the rear portion and fired. Once again, flames flew from the rear of the tank. The crew began to bail out. Patch flicked to cannon and squeezed the fire button. The earth in front boiled with bullets hitting the ground and what remained of the tank. He sprayed the side of the tank, taking out the escaping men.

The chopper shuddered as a mass of machine gun fire from one of the tanks strafed its side. Patch felt one bullet go deep into his chest. He slumped forward, pushing hard on the control. Blood from his chest sprayed over the instrument panel.

Philips tried to recover the chopper as it went into a spin just five feet from the ground. It exploded into flames as it smashed into the ground at over a hundred knots. The flames soon engulfed the aluminium frame and burned bright orange. Then the remaining ordnance exploded, sending a wall of flame into the air.