Jim Madison – Chapter 5

Chapters 5
Excerpt from OneThreeThirteen – A Presidential Agent Novel Series Book 1

BEFORE THE DOOR OF THE OLD B-52 bomber was locked and closed securely, the pilot was off and racing down the runway.

“Welcome aboard Colonel Sir,” yelled the young second lieutenant who’d risked a life threatening fall, dragging Madison the rest of the way into the plane.

“Tell the pilot, well done,” screamed Madison, trying to be heard over the B-52’s engines. “Personally, I didn’t think we’d make it. I had visions of some airman scraping bits and pieces of my ass up off the runway.”

“No problem sir, laughed second lieutenant Louis Lobell. If you don’t mind my saying so, Sir, we’re pretty damn good at this sort of thing. You might say it’s our specialty — picking up stranded pilots while under heavy gunfire. Took our training in Mogadishu and Afghanistan, Colonel Sir.”

Madison nodded his acknowledgement.

Kept from the general public, an especially from the media, was the severity of the air strikes that Iraq had launched against coalition forces.  The younger former President Bush had decided that he did not want another media disaster like Vietnam on his hands and had successfully blocked much of the information coming out of the area.
“Damn shame, “Madison thought. Full blown News coverage might have kept things from getting to their current state of events.

The media, he figured, with their skill for uncovering secrets, might have discovered much sooner exactly who it was that we’ve been fighting for so many years. Few people, if any, ever bothered to ask how a primitive country like Afghanistan could have managed to withstand such modern day forces as Britain and the United States, for as long as they had.

Madison took a moment and composed himself before inquiring of the young second lieutenant. “I believe you have orders for me?”

“Yes, Sir.” The young airman snapped a salute and thrust forward a white envelope bearing the White House logo on the front and the Presidential seal on the back. “From the President, Sir. To be opened once we were airborne.”

“Thank you, Officer Lobell,” Madison stated after a quick glance at the name placard on the young man’s uniform.

Madison, himself a veteran of the Gulf war, and a volunteer during the Twin-Towers and Pentagon disasters, and had been a Diplomatic attaché during the Disarmament treaties in Beirut where a suicide bomber had blown himself up, killing fifteen of the diplomats in attendance. He sensed that whatever was in this envelope was not going to be a little light reading, but something more along the lines of Stephen King.
He settled down onto the floor of the stripped down bomber and pealed back the blue and gold Presidential seal that secured the envelope.

Colonel Madison,
As you no doubt know our current situation is dire. Peace Talks hit an uncompromisable wall two days ago and none of the countries currently engaging us in battle were willing to return to the Peace Table.
America and Great Britain — along with our current allies France, and Germany — will defend our countries no matter what the cost. Defeat is unimaginable.
Your orders, therefore Colonel Madison, are to get yourself to the CINCNORAD bunker and take charge of our western opera-tions.
Should you get word that the Presidency of the United States of America has fallen you are authorized to use the codes that have been entrusted to you.
May God keep you in the difficult days ahead. Enclosed is a briefing on our situation.
Signed,

President Santiago Garcia.

A shiver ran through Madison as he slowly read and then rereading the letter, making sure he understood every word.

Korea, China, Indonesia, Pakistan, Afghanistan, The Unit-ed Arab Emirate, Saudi Arabia, Iran, Iraq, Palestine, Egypt, The Ukraine, Russia, Libya, and The Sudan, had all stopped warring amongst themselves and had somehow gathered together – secre-tively – and plotted to wage war against the United States and Great Britain.

At twenty-one hundred hours, the eastern sector of NOR-AD had received a frantic call from London’s Prime Minister Nelson requesting air support for the RAF which, as you know, was passed along to Lt. Colonel Billy Hamilton.

What had not been passed along in that request was that, what had begun as a minor skirmish outside of NATO Headquar-ters in Northwood between London Police and a mob of unruly foreign dissidents and students, had escalated into mortal combat.
The rioting had lasted throughout the night with sporadic episodes of fighting. However, towards the early morning hours, things took a dramatic turn when Molotov cocktails were hurled at unarmed police officers. As the officers began retreating to a safety zone, some members of the rioters opened fire on them using semi-automatic weapons.
The use of deadly weapons and the increasing size of the angry crowd had prompted a call for help to the British Armed Forces Headquarters facility located in nearby Eastbury, Hertford-shire. Those soldiers responding had encountered strong resistance from para-military forces.

While the British Army was engaged putting down the riot, the invaders struck hard. The Permanent Joint Headquarters, Commander in Chief Fleet, The NATO Regional Command, and the Command Component Maritime ware all bombed.
As of twenty three hundred hours the squadron of fighters finally sent to England’s aide from Texas had encountered heavy fire from what the pilots reported were Iranian and Iraqi jets.

In the Americas, the battleship Alabama, trolling the Atlantic, was waging a running battle with several Chinese nuclear subs.  Russian troops were crossing the border and invading American bases in Alaska and Canada.  Indonesian troops were attacking our bases in Hawaii and Guam. While Saudi troops were storming American bases, in the Middle East; bases that they themselves had helped build.  Pakistan had launched a full-scale nuclear attack against India. China, Korea, and Russia had simultaneously launched warheads against, Washington, D.C., Chicago, Tampa, Seattle, Rome, N.Y., and The Four Corners area — close and around the lo-cation of NORAD, where he was headed.
The world, as he knew it, Madison thought, was at war. For the first time that night, he was actually scared.

The maps back at Andrews Central Command’s War Room had reported accurate information after all. He wondered how Lucinda was doing with the task he’d assigned her. She and her ‘go to’ guy had gotten him on this bomber.

Shaking off the grim fear that had overtaken him, he began calculating. This must have taken quite a bit of long term planning, he thought. His mind went back to the Disarmament Treaty. All those smiling faces, dignified handshakes, and photo opportunities had been fake. All the while, those bastards were secretly planning this.
And the US, being the bleeding heart dupes that we are, had given those bastards the money — in the name of peace — which they’d probably used to carry out this evil plan. Anger surged through him. He began pounding on the boxes of ammunition that surrounded him. Young second lieutenant Lobell, standing in the cockpit doorway shot him a questioning look. He had to restrain himself, he thought. He was a commanding officer. He had to look the part, act the part, talk the part, and walk the part. “Shit!” he thought, he hadn’t planned on any of this. Never in a million years did he think things would get this bad. Never imagined he’d have to use the codes given him. No. He hadn’t raced down that damn runway for God and country. No! He was only doing what he needed to do to get closer to them. Getting to NORAD would get him closer to Susan and Dan.

“We’ve got company,” came a scream from the cockpit.

Second Lieutenant Louis Lobell raced towards the back of the plane and tossed Madison a parachute.

“They’re locking on!” came a second scream.

Second Lieutenant Lobell helped Madison into the para-chute and snapped him a salute before yelling, “Good luck sir!” He then strapped himself to the safety harness before popping the bomber’s door. “The chute’s black. Wait thirty seconds before pulling the pin.” And with that, he shoved Madison out.

As Madison floated down towards earth he looked up, through the black silk of the parachute, and watched as the bomber did a one eighty and flew directly into the path of the pursuing Mig. Both planes became a fiery ball of blood and metal.
He’d have to make his own way to NORAD.
正名

By
Eliza D. Ankum  aka elizabooks
Author of
Flight 404
Ruby Sanders (The Ruby and Jared saga Book 1)
Jared Anderson (The Ruby and Jared saga Book 3)
OneTheeThirteen – A Presidential Agent Novel Series Book 1
Dancing With The Fat Woman
Thou Shalt Eat Dust
A Woman’s Voice:  Book of Poems
STALKED! By Voices