Max Velocity - Patriot Dawn - The Resistance Rises

To the north of the east side of the drop zone, in the area where tactical HQ and the fire support platoon should be landing, was a five to six hundred meter distance across the open ground of the ellipse and the south lawn, to the White House itself.

In conjunction with the overhead assault, a TALO operation (tactical air landing operation) would land a number of C-130s at Reagan National, close to the Mall just across the river. These C-130s would contain a light infantry battle group along with resupply loaded on gators, which would drive off the rear of the aircraft ramps on landing. This landing would also contain heavier support assets, such as 81mm mortars, that could set up at Reagan and provide fire support to Jack’s fighters across the river.

The TALO assault was also a surprise shock action with the objective of securing Reagan National, the Pentagon and the dual bridges across the Potomac to the Mall and White House areas, thus allowing a link-up with Jack’s Company.

Once the two elements of the airborne assault went in, simultaneously the ground assault would start up the I-95 from South Carolina, attempting to thrust north the five hundred miles to link up with the paratroopers in DC.

It was a bold, all or nothing move. If the plan failed, the paratroopers would have no option but to attempt to fade away into the countryside and back into an insurgency role.

Jack spoke to his assembled Company in the hangar before they donned their parachutes and gear. He had them gathered around in a group.

“There is no doubt that this is a risky, bold move. It is not only a parachute jump into the heart of darkness, it is a leap of faith. I have absolute faith in you, the men and women of this Company. You are lions, every one of you a hero. I have never been more impressed by courage and dedication as that which I have seen from you, even in our darkest days in the forests of Virginia.

“Remember why we do this. We do it for America, for the memories of those brave souls who founded this country, who fought for freedom and made this country great. We do it for the memories of those who went before us, fighting for liberty both here and abroad.

“But more importantly, we do it for each other, and we do it for our families and children, and our children’s children, for their future. If we don’t stand against the tyranny of the Regime, who will?!

“We will not go meekly into the sunset, our freedoms stripped from us. You, stood here now, are striking the blow for liberty, for our Constitution, for freedom, for America. I am honored to go into battle with you. Remember, when all this is over, it is either liberty or death!”

Jack paused, and a cheer went up from the assembled Company. Jack looked around him and saw the tears running down their faces.

“Let us take a moment to say the Ode of Remembrance, in honor of those that we have lost in this fight. Let us take a moment of silence afterwards.”

They bowed their heads, and Jack recited:

“They went with songs to the battle, they were young.

Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.

They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,

They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning,

We will remember them.”

After a minutes silence, Jack looked up.

“Ok, let’s roll.”

The three C-130s flew nap of the earth in the darkness of the night, up the spine of the Appalachian Mountains, concealing themselves as best they could in the valleys, flying at two hundred feet, below radar detection.

Following them, separated by ten minutes, were the TALO assault aircraft designated for Reagan National.

In South Carolina, the armored and mechanized Division marshaled itself at the line of departure. It was a long column, laid out on the I-95, arranged into assault and support elements. As well as the main battle tanks, the armored personnel carriers and the self-propelled guns, there were engineer units with bridging equipment, supply and logistics elements, carrying everything that the fighting column would need on the five hundred mile dash to DC.

Inside the Company’s three C-130s, it was horrific. They had been flying for several hours now. It was hot and cramped and the smell of vomit filled the back of the aircraft. The green glow of night lights was the only illumination. The paratroopers cramped inside could feel the pull of the g-forces as they followed closely the contours of the land, the lurching feeling deep in the pit of their stomachs, sometimes pushed down in their seats as the aircraft climbed rapidly.

Timed to coincide with the approach of the transport aircraft to DC, a squadron of Southern Federation fast jets had streaked up the coast towards the Capital. The Regime scrambled its own fighter jets and a long range modern-style aerial dogfight ensued on the approaches to DC. Missiles were fired, evasive maneuvers and flares used as the fast jets struggled for ascendancy,

Meanwhile, a second Southern Federation squadron of fast jets utilized the cover their brothers in arms were providing and rocketed through to DC itself, firing missiles and softening up the approach down the air corridor for the C-130s. The primary mission of this squadron was to destroy any ground to air missile sites and clear the approach for the paratroopers.

Inside Jack’s aircraft the call of “Ten minutes!” was passed up the line of sitting paratroopers. Jack was sat down by the port (left) side jump door in the lead aircraft. He was number one, the first man out.

Next, the jumpmasters opened the doors, sliding them up on their tracks towards the roof of the aircraft and then swinging out the jump step, stamping it down into position. The rush of fresh air into the aircraft was a welcome relief. The jumpmasters were wearing parachutes — they would follow the sticks out the door — and they commenced to check the exit doors, hanging out of the aircraft to check outside.

Next came: “Stand up hook up!” and the paratroopers stood, stiff after so long crammed in wearing their equipment. They put away the red webbing seats by raising them and clipping them up, and hooked the end of their static lines onto the jump cable that ran above their heads.

The jumpmaster called out “Action stations!” and waved them towards the rear doors. Jack shuffled down at the head of his stick to stand in the open door, handing the slack of his static line off to the jumpmaster. The plane was moving and bucking beneath his feet and he put one hand out to steady himself in the doorframe, the other held the end of his reserve, elbow tucked in to his side. The little red jump light was on in the panel to the side of the doorway.

Jack stared south out of the aircraft door in the dawn light as the outskirts of the city passed beneath him, only two hundred feet below. He felt he could reach out and touch the rooftops. He watched as a fast jet went streaking past in the distance, headed for the drop zone.

They were getting close.

The massive wing of the aircraft was up to his right, its two propeller engines roaring and droning, exhaust tails streaming back into the dawn sky.

Superimposed on his view of the buildings below was a vision of Caitlin and the kids, laughing and at play. He loved them so much. The prayer was repeating itself in his head, on a loop, just the first couple of lines:

Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for thy rod and thy staff shall comfort me.

Jack thought of his family.

Please Lord, keep us safe. I don’t want to die today, but if I have to, I do it for them.