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"We will be given an honorary guard of Russian fighters from Eastern Europe to Moscow." Scott told POTUS.
"Very well," Jack nodded. He was desperately hoping this journey would achieve something, and turning down an honour from the Russians, however deadly it could be, was not a risk he could take.
******************************************
I watched the General Secretary tour the warehouse that was actually a missile defence headquarters.
I was nervous and tense, and jumped when I felt something on my leg.
My leg, which I was crouched on, jerked forward, just as I realised it was a rat, not a threat.
But it was too late. My knee bumped into the vent grille, and it fell to the floor, exposing me, and alerting all the people in the quiet room.
They gawped at me for a second, and I used it to shoot once with my P99.
I had hoped to kill the General Secretary, but in my haste, it only hit his arm.
But he still roared in pain, and the blood still flowed, causing everyone to crowd round him to see how he was.
While they were doing that, I sprinted for the door, determined to escape.
The General Secretary got back to his feet behind me, cursing.
“Get after him!” He yelled at his men.
The KGB began to chase me, and I heard a bullet from what must have been a silenced gun slam into the wall near me. I dove for the door, just dodging another bullet, and was then out into the fresh air.
I ran towards an army jeep, and quickly despatched the driver to whatever heaven he believed in.
I jumped in, threw the driver out of it, then put my foot down, as well as my head.
Bullets cracked at the windscreen, but amazingly none hit me. I heard the KGB men running for their cars.
It was turning into a long ride home.
**************************************
The jeep rocked as it hit a stone, and my heart lurched as I thought the jeep may tip over.
But it held, as it had for the last twenty miles. The KGB were keeping up, but due to the steel behind my seat and headrest, they couldn’t hit me from behind. And trying to take out the jeep by shooting it was impossible. Its wheels were also reinforced with metal inside, so no bullet would penetrate them.
I knew that if they came too close on either side, they could hit me, but they were scared of the jeep’s powerful weight. Also, that was why they weren’t trying to block me off or knock me off the road, despite being able to go much faster than I.
This went on for another five miles or so, with me going in many different directions, trying to shake them off. I went left, then quickly right, onto the slipway of a motorway and then going down the bank back onto the normal road, and many other tricks I knew.
But none worked.
Then they began to close, while we were on a deserted road in the countryside.
I looked in the rear mirror, and now that they were close enough, could see that their vehicles were heavily armoured as well as fast, and easily strong enough to take the jeep on.
So why were they waiting?
Then I heard a loud whirring noise, and looked into the sky.
A Hind helicopter.
It had obviously been moving to head me off, for it came down the road towards me, and a low level.
I fumbled around behind me as I drove towards this monstrosity, desperately looking for a rocket launcher, or something I could fire at it other than my useless-against-such-a-beast P99.
I discovered only grenades.
It’ll have to do, I told myself as I took the pin from one with my teeth.
The Hind accelerated towards me, and began to open fire with the machine gun mounted in the turret underneath the nose.
It spat metal rain in a line along the road. These were explosive bullets, I realised with dread.
As the helicopter and the jeep closed at a fast rate, I still held the grenade.
Then I threw it, and threw myself from the jeep, rolling away down a bank into a ditch.
The grenade exploded just above the Hind’s canopy, killing the pilots. It also damaged the rotors, and sent the helicopter ploughing into the ground.
But it was too late for the jeep, the explosive bullets had already hit it, and they proved to be armour piercing too. The powerful vehicle exploded.
The jeep and the Hind in their way was too much for the three KGB cars to escape from, and all three crashed into the burning wrecks.
I climbed back onto the road, and threw a grenade I had still in my hand towards the mess.
It bounced towards the crash site, where still no one was stirring. It exploded, and made sure no one survived.
I began to hike up the hill on the other side of the road, dismayed at being further away from the border than ever before, in my reckoning.
That reckoning was proven wrong as I reached the crest of the hill, looked down, and recognised the Ukrainian border.
****************************************
“Sir, we have the Secretary of Defence on line one.” An aide told Jack.
“Put him through.” Jack growled, unhappy at having been woken up during this overnight flight. Anyway, that damned Murray guy hadn’t even been sworn in as SecDef yet.
“It’s on videophone,” the aide motioned towards the device.
Great, Jack thought unhappily. “I always look great when I’ve just been woken up!” He muttered sarcastically.
But the man on the videophone looked even worse than he.
“Peter!” POTUS exclaimed happily. The Secretary of Defence was alive! That meant that moron back in Washington could rot in hell for all Jack cared.
“Hello.” I answered.
I proceeded to tell him of everything I had seen, and of my plans to now go straight to London, where I would take a Concorde back to Washington.
“But the peace plan!” POTUS demanded.
“Sir, get out of there! They don’t want peace; they have an ace in the hole, a missile defence system!”
The words hit Jack like a ton of bricks, and I saw him recoil.
“They have what?” he asked again, unable to believe his ears.
I repeated it.
“Oh no.” he groaned.
*****************************************
Air Force One was at Code Red, as was the entire US military.
F-14s from the Eisenhower scrambled to protect the President’s plane.
Now the people on board could only wait.
“They will fire their Phoenix missiles at our ‘guards’ as soon as they reach maximum range. That should be in two minutes.” The steward, himself a fighter pilot, was helping to direct the F-14s. He had been chosen for Air Force One to actually be able to control the sophisticated radar equipment on board.
“Isn’t that dangerous? Couldn’t those missiles hit us?” POTUS asked.
“No sir, it’s safe. Air Force One, or the VC-25A as it’s known, as a little feature few people know about – it can act as a high-tech AWACS craft.”
“Airborne Warning And Control System.” Scott Archer spoke.
“Yes.” The steward answered.
Jack looked at Scott, wondering where he knew that from.
“I always wanted to be in the air force, Mr. President. Couldn’t though, cause I’m colour blind.”
“So this radar is on now?” the President asked.
“No sir. It lights up on another radar screen like a white man in Harlem. We have to wait until they are within range, as turning it on will let the Russians know we know what they’re up to.” The steward replied.
“Very well.”
“Everyone strapped in?” the steward checked.
“Yep.” POTUS answered. “But why?”
“Cause Air Force One can rock and roll when a missile is fired.” The steward grinned and would reveal no more.
***************************************
General Secretary Alexei Morschev nursed his aching left arm, with it still in a sling.
He had recognised the man who did it, and knew he hadn’t been caught. He just had to hope he hadn’t crossed the border.
But now, Russian radar had picked up F-14s inbound for Air Force One. That meant that he probably had, and the President knew.
“Destroy it now.” He ordered.
“Very well sir.” Defence Minister Josef Petrov answered.
“But sir!” Interior Minister Mikhail Ivanov was protesting.
The already irritated Morschev raised his right arm, a pistol in his hand, and ended Mikhail’s worries.
Josef decided he would never question the General Secretary, and whispered a small prayer for the man who had shot the Russian leader, for God help him if Morschev ever caught him.
**************************************
Nicholas Morschev, son of the Russian leader, was the commander of the flight that protected Air Force One. It was supposed to honour the American leader that the ruler of Russia’s son was accompanying him, but it served a more sinister purpose.
Nicholas was here to make sure that Alexei’s orders were carried out.
Nicholas wasn’t like his father, and was instead a kind and gentle man. But he was an ace fighter pilot, and deadly and calculating in battle. He followed orders, as any son of the Motherland should.
And when this order came through, he didn’t think twice before pulling the trigger button to fire.
**************************************
“Missile lock on!” the shout echoed around Air Force One, as the plane lurched into a dive, spewing out chafe.
“What the hell is the pilot playing at?” POTUS asked.
“It’s not him, anti-missile movement is controlled by the computer. Also, the AWACS automatically turns on.”
The President only nodded, now pale as he realised the seriousness of the situation.
Outside, the missiles were confused by the chafe and the sudden dive, and they all exploded in the cloud of chafe. It was heard inside.
“Four missiles, one apiece.” The steward counted. “That means they have plenty more, and I’m not sure Air Force One can cope with them all.”
I hope so, the President thought.
************************************
The F-14 squadron leader sighed with relief as he entered firing range, and saw Air Force One’s AWACS signal showing the enemy.
It meant Air Force One was still in the fight, and now could be saved.
Each plane in his flight of four fired two Phoenix missiles each.
***********************************
Nicholas cursed as the missiles missed, and he and his flight had to realign to fire again.
They rushed to do so, and then Nicholas gave the order to fire again. He fired two of his missiles, and looked around for his flight mates.
All he could see were three fireballs as missiles ploughed into them.
He cursed, and dived, hoping to avoid any missiles heading for him.
But they followed, and his plane blew up like the others.
No one ejected.
**********************************
Air Force One dodged again, trying to avoid the two incoming missiles.
One missed, but one hit the closest right engine.
“Damn.” The steward cursed, but was relieved that Air Force One would make it, despite the damage.
The plane turned and began to limp home, escorted by American fighters all the way.
*********************************
More to come later! Comments appreciated!
Chris AKA Nemesis
"Very well," Jack nodded. He was desperately hoping this journey would achieve something, and turning down an honour from the Russians, however deadly it could be, was not a risk he could take.
******************************************
I watched the General Secretary tour the warehouse that was actually a missile defence headquarters.
I was nervous and tense, and jumped when I felt something on my leg.
My leg, which I was crouched on, jerked forward, just as I realised it was a rat, not a threat.
But it was too late. My knee bumped into the vent grille, and it fell to the floor, exposing me, and alerting all the people in the quiet room.
They gawped at me for a second, and I used it to shoot once with my P99.
I had hoped to kill the General Secretary, but in my haste, it only hit his arm.
But he still roared in pain, and the blood still flowed, causing everyone to crowd round him to see how he was.
While they were doing that, I sprinted for the door, determined to escape.
The General Secretary got back to his feet behind me, cursing.
“Get after him!” He yelled at his men.
The KGB began to chase me, and I heard a bullet from what must have been a silenced gun slam into the wall near me. I dove for the door, just dodging another bullet, and was then out into the fresh air.
I ran towards an army jeep, and quickly despatched the driver to whatever heaven he believed in.
I jumped in, threw the driver out of it, then put my foot down, as well as my head.
Bullets cracked at the windscreen, but amazingly none hit me. I heard the KGB men running for their cars.
It was turning into a long ride home.
**************************************
The jeep rocked as it hit a stone, and my heart lurched as I thought the jeep may tip over.
But it held, as it had for the last twenty miles. The KGB were keeping up, but due to the steel behind my seat and headrest, they couldn’t hit me from behind. And trying to take out the jeep by shooting it was impossible. Its wheels were also reinforced with metal inside, so no bullet would penetrate them.
I knew that if they came too close on either side, they could hit me, but they were scared of the jeep’s powerful weight. Also, that was why they weren’t trying to block me off or knock me off the road, despite being able to go much faster than I.
This went on for another five miles or so, with me going in many different directions, trying to shake them off. I went left, then quickly right, onto the slipway of a motorway and then going down the bank back onto the normal road, and many other tricks I knew.
But none worked.
Then they began to close, while we were on a deserted road in the countryside.
I looked in the rear mirror, and now that they were close enough, could see that their vehicles were heavily armoured as well as fast, and easily strong enough to take the jeep on.
So why were they waiting?
Then I heard a loud whirring noise, and looked into the sky.
A Hind helicopter.
It had obviously been moving to head me off, for it came down the road towards me, and a low level.
I fumbled around behind me as I drove towards this monstrosity, desperately looking for a rocket launcher, or something I could fire at it other than my useless-against-such-a-beast P99.
I discovered only grenades.
It’ll have to do, I told myself as I took the pin from one with my teeth.
The Hind accelerated towards me, and began to open fire with the machine gun mounted in the turret underneath the nose.
It spat metal rain in a line along the road. These were explosive bullets, I realised with dread.
As the helicopter and the jeep closed at a fast rate, I still held the grenade.
Then I threw it, and threw myself from the jeep, rolling away down a bank into a ditch.
The grenade exploded just above the Hind’s canopy, killing the pilots. It also damaged the rotors, and sent the helicopter ploughing into the ground.
But it was too late for the jeep, the explosive bullets had already hit it, and they proved to be armour piercing too. The powerful vehicle exploded.
The jeep and the Hind in their way was too much for the three KGB cars to escape from, and all three crashed into the burning wrecks.
I climbed back onto the road, and threw a grenade I had still in my hand towards the mess.
It bounced towards the crash site, where still no one was stirring. It exploded, and made sure no one survived.
I began to hike up the hill on the other side of the road, dismayed at being further away from the border than ever before, in my reckoning.
That reckoning was proven wrong as I reached the crest of the hill, looked down, and recognised the Ukrainian border.
****************************************
“Sir, we have the Secretary of Defence on line one.” An aide told Jack.
“Put him through.” Jack growled, unhappy at having been woken up during this overnight flight. Anyway, that damned Murray guy hadn’t even been sworn in as SecDef yet.
“It’s on videophone,” the aide motioned towards the device.
Great, Jack thought unhappily. “I always look great when I’ve just been woken up!” He muttered sarcastically.
But the man on the videophone looked even worse than he.
“Peter!” POTUS exclaimed happily. The Secretary of Defence was alive! That meant that moron back in Washington could rot in hell for all Jack cared.
“Hello.” I answered.
I proceeded to tell him of everything I had seen, and of my plans to now go straight to London, where I would take a Concorde back to Washington.
“But the peace plan!” POTUS demanded.
“Sir, get out of there! They don’t want peace; they have an ace in the hole, a missile defence system!”
The words hit Jack like a ton of bricks, and I saw him recoil.
“They have what?” he asked again, unable to believe his ears.
I repeated it.
“Oh no.” he groaned.
*****************************************
Air Force One was at Code Red, as was the entire US military.
F-14s from the Eisenhower scrambled to protect the President’s plane.
Now the people on board could only wait.
“They will fire their Phoenix missiles at our ‘guards’ as soon as they reach maximum range. That should be in two minutes.” The steward, himself a fighter pilot, was helping to direct the F-14s. He had been chosen for Air Force One to actually be able to control the sophisticated radar equipment on board.
“Isn’t that dangerous? Couldn’t those missiles hit us?” POTUS asked.
“No sir, it’s safe. Air Force One, or the VC-25A as it’s known, as a little feature few people know about – it can act as a high-tech AWACS craft.”
“Airborne Warning And Control System.” Scott Archer spoke.
“Yes.” The steward answered.
Jack looked at Scott, wondering where he knew that from.
“I always wanted to be in the air force, Mr. President. Couldn’t though, cause I’m colour blind.”
“So this radar is on now?” the President asked.
“No sir. It lights up on another radar screen like a white man in Harlem. We have to wait until they are within range, as turning it on will let the Russians know we know what they’re up to.” The steward replied.
“Very well.”
“Everyone strapped in?” the steward checked.
“Yep.” POTUS answered. “But why?”
“Cause Air Force One can rock and roll when a missile is fired.” The steward grinned and would reveal no more.
***************************************
General Secretary Alexei Morschev nursed his aching left arm, with it still in a sling.
He had recognised the man who did it, and knew he hadn’t been caught. He just had to hope he hadn’t crossed the border.
But now, Russian radar had picked up F-14s inbound for Air Force One. That meant that he probably had, and the President knew.
“Destroy it now.” He ordered.
“Very well sir.” Defence Minister Josef Petrov answered.
“But sir!” Interior Minister Mikhail Ivanov was protesting.
The already irritated Morschev raised his right arm, a pistol in his hand, and ended Mikhail’s worries.
Josef decided he would never question the General Secretary, and whispered a small prayer for the man who had shot the Russian leader, for God help him if Morschev ever caught him.
**************************************
Nicholas Morschev, son of the Russian leader, was the commander of the flight that protected Air Force One. It was supposed to honour the American leader that the ruler of Russia’s son was accompanying him, but it served a more sinister purpose.
Nicholas was here to make sure that Alexei’s orders were carried out.
Nicholas wasn’t like his father, and was instead a kind and gentle man. But he was an ace fighter pilot, and deadly and calculating in battle. He followed orders, as any son of the Motherland should.
And when this order came through, he didn’t think twice before pulling the trigger button to fire.
**************************************
“Missile lock on!” the shout echoed around Air Force One, as the plane lurched into a dive, spewing out chafe.
“What the hell is the pilot playing at?” POTUS asked.
“It’s not him, anti-missile movement is controlled by the computer. Also, the AWACS automatically turns on.”
The President only nodded, now pale as he realised the seriousness of the situation.
Outside, the missiles were confused by the chafe and the sudden dive, and they all exploded in the cloud of chafe. It was heard inside.
“Four missiles, one apiece.” The steward counted. “That means they have plenty more, and I’m not sure Air Force One can cope with them all.”
I hope so, the President thought.
************************************
The F-14 squadron leader sighed with relief as he entered firing range, and saw Air Force One’s AWACS signal showing the enemy.
It meant Air Force One was still in the fight, and now could be saved.
Each plane in his flight of four fired two Phoenix missiles each.
***********************************
Nicholas cursed as the missiles missed, and he and his flight had to realign to fire again.
They rushed to do so, and then Nicholas gave the order to fire again. He fired two of his missiles, and looked around for his flight mates.
All he could see were three fireballs as missiles ploughed into them.
He cursed, and dived, hoping to avoid any missiles heading for him.
But they followed, and his plane blew up like the others.
No one ejected.
**********************************
Air Force One dodged again, trying to avoid the two incoming missiles.
One missed, but one hit the closest right engine.
“Damn.” The steward cursed, but was relieved that Air Force One would make it, despite the damage.
The plane turned and began to limp home, escorted by American fighters all the way.
*********************************
More to come later! Comments appreciated!
Chris AKA Nemesis
. Make it true Tom Clancy and work in the defection of the head of KGB.
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