Final Winter

Victor thought that he would throw up as the helicopter swooped and dove, and it was a short hop indeed, for now they were flying into an airbase, it looked like, military aircraft. The helicopter landed. Other uniformed men nearly dragged him off it and he tried to ask more questions, but no one would talk to him, nobody at all, as two or three of them dressed him in a flight suit of some sort and a helmet was jammed over his head, and then in front of him was a jet, a fighter aircraft of some sort, and his bags were placed into a small storage bin on the side of the fuselage and good Christ, he was actually hauled up into the open cockpit, put into the seat, straps and hoses were connected and he blinked his eyes very hard as the jet started moving down the runway, and the cockpit canopy started lowering over his head.

‘You okay back there, sir?’ came a crackling voice through the headphones in his helmet.

‘I… I guess so. What in hell is going on?’

‘The name’s Major Hanratty. Sir, my job is to get you to Memphis as soon as possible.’

‘Why?’

‘Don’t know, sir. All I can tell you is to hold on back there. Once we’re wheels up, we’re going supersonic for a bit.’

Victor tried to swallow. Tried to swallow three times before he could produce saliva.

‘But… but I thought supersonic wasn’t allowed over civilian areas.’

The major said, ‘Usually you’re right, sir. But not this morning. Word I got is to break as many windows as I wanted, just as long as I got you to Memphis quick, like. You must be some big-ass VIP.’

Victor heard the tremor in his voice. ‘I’m… I’m just a doctor. That’s all.’

The major said quietly, ‘Must be a hell of a medical emergency out there in Memphis, then.’

Victor said nothing, tears springing to his eyes, nausea swelling in his guts, as he knew right then and there that it had all gone wrong.

Final Winter.

May God have mercy on me, he thought.

And as the jet took off, he had a sudden wish that something mechanical would happen, something bad so that this would all end now, in a clean and quick fireball, rather than ending up in Memphis.

But God wasn’t listening to him.

The aircraft took off safely.

Just his luck.

~ * ~

Brian looked to Monty who had just hung up the phone, arranging for Victor to come southwest. It had been a hell of a performance, and Brian wished that some of his commanders back at the NYPD had Monty’s presence and authority. But there was one more thing. Brian said, ‘You better be good, the next few hours.’

‘Only way I can be, son. Why did you say that?’

‘Because the higher-ups are going to want to have their say, have their input, have their command. You and me and Victor and the General, we know what’s happened, what can happen. We don’t have time to bring half the government up to speed on this fuck-up, much as they’re eager to know.’

Monty said, ‘You’ve been reading my mind, pal. Time for another phone call.’

~ * ~

Air Force General Mike McKenna had just received a status report from his adjutant on the deployment of F-16s and F-15s to track the AirBox aircraft when his phone rang. He picked it up, heard from the senior airman who served as his admin aide, and said, ‘All right, put him through.’

There was a click and he said, ‘General McKenna, Northern Command.’

‘Sir, this is Montgomery Zane. Department of Defense representative with Foreign Operations and Liaison Team Seven. Sir, I’m at the Memphis Airport, at the Operations Center for AirBox.’

‘So?’

‘General, please check your standing orders. Especially the Presidential Directive 61-10, issued on September 12, 2001. Sir, I’m the command lead for this incident. You’re not to take any hostile action against those nineteen AirBox aircraft without my authorization. And for purposes of identification my ID code for today is Bravo Bravo Zulu Twelve. I’m lead.’

‘The hell you are.’

‘The hell I’m not, general. Check your standing orders. This baby is mine. You’ll be informed at all times about what’s going on, and I may need you to take action against those aircraft, but right now it’s in my lap.’

General McKenna said, ‘I don’t have time to argue with you, Zane.’

‘Good. Neither do I. Look, we’ve got a situation here: I don’t want to be a hard ass, but check your standing orders.’

McKenna shifted the phone to another ear, scribbled a note, writing down BBZ12. ‘I intend to do just that. And to get those orders changed.’

Zane said, ‘Your prerogative, sir. But I think you’ll find that to change that means going through the White House, and I think the President is kinda busy right now.’

~ * ~

Alexander Bocks felt the iron band of tension around the base of his skull start to ease, just a bit. He looked to Zane and said, ‘Can I ask you a question?’

‘Sure.’

‘What branch of the service did you serve in?’

Monty smiled, started making notes on a legal pad in front of him. ‘All of them.’

The police detective interrupted. ‘All of them?’