William Johnstone - Phoenix Rising

“So, take a stripe from me,” John said, and both men laughed.

With the safety wire it was easy to secure the tarpaulin, so within twenty minutes they left, locking both the hangar and the gate behind them.

They made it all the way back to Fort Morgan Road before they ran into trouble. John was driving, and he stopped when they saw that the road in front of them was blocked off by a pile of old refrigerators. There were at least ten men sitting on top or standing on the ground around the blockade. All were armed.

“Oh, oh,” John said. “That doesn’t look good.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Jake replied.

“What do we do?”

“Nothing for the moment. They aren’t mobile—we are.”

“A lot of good that does us. This is the only road. We’re blocked here.”

“I wonder how far we are from Fort Morgan,” Jake said.

“That mileage marker says seven,” John said.

“Let’s see if we can raise Deon and Willie. It’ll be a long hike for them, but if they come up behind the blockade, we might be able to force our way through.”

Jake cranked in some power to the radio, then picked up the mic.

“Phoenix Base, this is Phoenix One, do you copy?”

“Phoenix One, this is Phoenix Base, over.”

Jake recognized Karin’s voice.

“Phoenix, we’ve run into a little trouble here. We are at the seven-mile marker on Fort Morgan Road. There is a barrier across the road in front of us, as well as several armed men.”

“Are you in danger?” Karin asked, and Jake could hear the concern in her voice.

“Not immediate danger,” Jake replied. “We are mobile and they aren’t. The problem is, we can’t get through. We may need a little backup.”

“Phoenix One, what do you propose?” This was Deon’s voice.

“It’ll be a long hike for you, but maybe if you came up from behind, put pressure on them, we could get through here.”

“Will do. Out.”

Jake put the microphone down and continued to stare through the windshield at the barrier in front of them.

“What do we do now?” John asked.

“We wait.”

Fort Morgan

“Marcus, Willie, grab a weapon. We have a long hike in front of us,” Deon said. Deon picked up the M-240 machine gun.

“You don’t have to hike,” James said. “We have plenty of bicycles down here.”

“Yeah, that’s right, you do, don’t you?” Deon said.

“You can ride a bike if you want to,” Bob said. He was looking at the Huey. “Or, we could bring some heavy firepower down on them.”

“What do you mean?” Deon asked.

Bob pointed to the helicopter. “Marcus, when you left Hanchey Field, did you have a full load of fuel?”

“Yes, sir,” Marcus replied.

“You flew straight here, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Bob smiled. “Then you’ve got at least a hundred and fifty miles’ operating range remaining,” he said.

“What are you thinking, Mr. Varney?” Deon asked.

“Didn’t you tell me your dad was a door gunner in Vietnam?” Bob replied.

“Yes, sir, he was. He was with the sixty-eighth.”

Bob nodded. “Sixty-eighth? Ahh, Top Tiger,” he said. “Good outfit. How would you like to be a door gunner?”

“Wait a minute, are you saying you are going to try and fly that thing?” Marcus asked.

“I’m not going to try, I’m going to do it,” Bob said.

“Oh, Bob, no!” Ellen said. “You haven’t flown in almost forty years!”

“I hadn’t ridden a bike in a longer time than that, but first time I got on one down here, I was able to ride, wasn’t I?”

“That’s not the same thing and you know it,” Ellen said.

“Sure it is. The only difference is, I have a hell of a lot more time in one of these than I ever did on a bicycle. What about it, guys? You want to try it?” Bob asked.

A huge smile spread across Deon’s face. “Hell yes,” he said. “Let’s go!”

Deon and Willie began putting their weapons in the helicopter while Marcus untied the blade. Bob did a walk-around pre-flight inspection, and as he climbed up onto the deck to examine the rotor head, it was as if he had done this just yesterday. He took another look at the jury-rigged drag brace; then he jumped down and started to get in.

“Wait a minute,” Jerry said. “I’m going too.” Jerry was carrying a bow and a quiver of arrows.

Willie laughed. “Do you plan to scalp them too?” Marcus laughed as well, but Deon held out his hand. “No, wait,” he said. “I’ve got an idea. Wait here for a moment.”

Deon jumped out of the helicopter and ran into the nearby casement. When he came back he was carrying something.

“I’ll be damned,” Marcus said. “That’s a good idea.”

“What’s a good idea?” Willie asked. “What are you talking about?”

“That’s C-four,” Marcus said.

Deon got back into the helicopter. “Hand me a few of your arrows,” he said.

Jerry complied, and Deon wrapped the C-4 plastic explosive material around the arrows, then, using a knife to cut off the arrow heads, replaced them with blasting caps. He did four arrows that way.

“Now,” he said. “When we go in, we are going to go in heavy.”

“Clear!” Bob shouted as he pulled the starter trigger.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“Is that a helicopter I hear?” John asked.

“It is, yes,” Jake said. “I hear it, but I don’t see it.”

“It’s close,” John said. “Look, they hear it too.” John pointed to the men who were standing by the barricade. They could be seen searching the sky and talking to each other, obviously looking for the helicopter.

Suddenly a Huey popped up just over the roof of the houses along the beach. “Damn! That’s our Huey!” John said. “Who the hell is flying it?”

Jake laughed. “It has to be Bob,” he said.

The helicopter did a quick pass by the barricade, and Jake saw an arrow streaming down.

“What the hell? He’s shooting arrows at them?”

There was a loud explosion where the arrow hit, the blast big enough to throw several of the refrigerators around.

Jake laughed out loud. “C-4!” he said. “They’ve put C-4 on the arrows!”

The helicopter made another pass. This time Jake and John could see tracer bullets coming from the cargo door. There was also a second arrow fired, and another explosion.

Some of the men at the refrigerator barricade started shooting back at the helicopter, but the M-240 in the cargo door of the Huey was too much for them and those who weren’t killed began running. The Huey chased down the runners and fired again, until the area was completely cleared of any would-be bandits.

“That old man can handle it, can’t he?” John said.

“Phoenix One, this is Goodnature, do you copy?”

“Goodnature?” Jake replied.

“It was my call sign in Vietnam. I figured I may as well use it again,” Bob said.

“Roger, Goodnature,” Jake answered.

“If you can negotiate the barricade, I’ll fly cover for you back to base,” Bob said.

“We’re on our way,” Jake said.

“If you can’t get through, get out and move one or two aside,” Bob said. “Do not get off the road—if you do you’ll get stuck axle deep in the sand.”

Starting the truck, John drove up to the barricades, then stopped. “We’re going to have to go around,” he said.

“No,” Jake replied. “Bob lives down here, so I’m sure he knows what he is talking about. We’re going to have to push a couple of the refrigerators out of the way.”

John put the truck in neutral, and he and Jake got out and started pushing refrigerators aside until they had opened a path big enough for the truck to get through.