hit the fire alarm. This would get everyone moving. He turned the klaxon off and told everyone to meet again in the gym.
They all rushed out of the generator room and made their way into the gymnasium. Most everyone was there already. Vince wasted no time telling them about the radar target heading their way and their plan for evacuating the complex. He didn’t tell the crew that the target was a mile wide.
It took the crew about fifteen minutes to gather survival gear, and get suited up. Boop agreed to load one of the snowcats on board, just in case. He didn’t want to deal with the weight and balance problems of loading all three.
The fuel was flowing smoothly into the plane. But at this rate it would take about forty-five minutes to drain the day tank. Dan got on the PA. He was still in the console room. “Target bearing 360 relative, range 120 miles, speed seventy knots, altitude, 10,000. ETA ninety minutes. Tropo and UHF radio still out.” Vince appreciated the update and was glad Dan didn’t announce on the PA that this was one big MF and to run for your lives. Chalk one beer up for Dan if they ever got out of this.
Dave grabbed Jorgen, the drilling technician, and ran down to the shell with his video camera. The radar energy was affecting the video but he wanted to get some proof they really had this thing. He got video from every angle imaginable. He even had the presence of mind to try and scrape a sample of the material off for positive proof and analysis. He thought to himself, “Damn, this shit was bullet proof. Nothing’s going to make a dent or a scratch.” Then he had another brain storm. The drill bits for the bedrock core sample experiment were diamond impregnated. He could use one of the ice augers to try and cut a piece of the shell out. He had Jorgen drag one of the augers over to the shell. He attached the cutting head to the auger pole and started the motor. He dragged the auger onto the lip of the shell and engaged the drive gear. He hit the feed lever and they both watched as the cutter head started scratching into the shell’s outer surface. Dave thought, “Holy shit, I think this is going to work.”
Just then Boop ran over. “Captain, we’re done pouring fuel in the bird. What the hell are you doing? Let’s get out of here. That thing is fifty miles out.”
“Major, we’re making some progress here. I think I can cut a piece of the shell out.”
Boop responded curtly, “You’ve got fifteen minutes, Captain.”
Boop ran off towards the plane. He could see men clambering down the access stairs and heading over towards the plane following him. The crew chief was directing one of the crew members up the ramp with a snowcat. Dave figured it would take a few minutes to secure the plane, crew, and machinery. He gave the thumbs-up to Jorgen and continued on with the drilling. The bit was doing its work. It was biting into the shell. The shell was about a quarter inch thick. The hollow drill bit was about four inches in diameter, designed to take rock core samples. Whatever they were drilling through was tougher than any rock Jorgen had ever encountered.
Both men looked up in time to see the ramp of the C-130 being sucked up off the ice and clam shell doors shutting. A couple of minutes later the engine propellers changed pitch to full reverse. The big C-130 was backing away from the complex. The C-130 had the capability to back up under its own power and was doing a good job of it now. Just then he heard the rpm of the auger speed up as the auger punched through the shell. A metallic clanking noise was heard as a four inch metallic disk fell out of the drill bit and onto the lip of the shell. Dave grabbed it and they both spun around and raced towards the moving C-130. The plane had backed off from the site about one hundred yards. Running in snow at nearly two miles above sea level was a very hard thing to do. The side door was open and Dave crawled in followed by Jorgen. Several crew members helped pulled them inside.
Glenn was standing in the flight deck doorway. “For crying out loud, Dave, the Major was serious about leaving your asses out here.” Dave just smiled and held up the disk shaped piece of metal like some kid who’d caught a home run ball. He made his way to the cockpit to show off his trophy. Boop turned around and said, “Way to go kid. Now strap in. The chief has been busy, too. He’s only had time to hook up four of the JATO bottles. This might give us a running start. Probably won’t get us airborne but it’ll save a few hundred gallons of valuable fuel by getting us airspeed for liftoff.”
Just then the plane made a hard turn to the left and taxied to the end of the skiway. It made a 180 degree turn into the wind. Boop applied full throttle and pitch. Carl called off the V speeds and once rotated, Rick hit the JATO switch. There was not as big of a kick in the ass as with the six bottles from the last time, but it still got your attention. The crew in back did not have ear protection and were deafened by the noise. The plane leveled off at a couple hundred feet and accelerated.
Boop clicked his mike, “Okay, we’re going to level off at two hundred feet and hug the ice, no sharp turns. How are the engines, Glenn?” The copilot replied, “We’re burning JP-4 now. Ready to switch over to diesel on your command. We should see some rpm drop. Better be prepared for the power loss.” Boop acknowledged, “Roger, change tanks now.” Glenn turned a switch on the engineer’s panel and watched as the fuel flow meter started to click off. “Major, watch for the power drop in both inboards in about ten seconds.”
“Roger that, Glenn.”
The expected power drop happened on cue. The rpm surged and then dropped. “How are the engine temps?” The copilot responded with a cool tone, “Actually the temps have gone down. Must be the air flow around the cowlings. All in the green. We are twenty knots over stall speed.” “Roger that. Maintain heading one one zero and an altitude of two hundred feet. If we lose an engine or start torching one, we’re going to have to put her down fast.”
Something caught Rick and Dave’s peripheral vision at about the same time off to the north. An orange streak was racing at them from the left. It was coming from a huge flying wing shaped like a boomerang about thirty miles to the north. Rick knew immediately what was heading their way from his days over the Hanoi trail. Somebody was firing a missile at them. “Shit, missile inbound, nine o’clock, ten miles. We’re too low and slow to take evasive action.” If Boop had turned the plane sharply, chances were he’d lose airspeed, dip the wing into the ice and cartwheel into a fireball. No choice, but to keep her straight and level. Boop also noticed that the missile was overtaking them. It was a good sign that there was some relative motion to the orange ball of fire. This was not the proverbial golden BB or object that just keeps getting bigger and bigger as it comes straight at you and smacks you between the eyes. Rick knew it was going to miss well in front of them.
But “miss well” was a relative term. The missile struck the ice about a quarter of a mile in front of them. A huge plume of ice and snow shot up in the air. The plane flew straight into it. The windscreen was cracked by several large chunks of ice. The prop blades spun several large chunks completely through the fuselage with a loud bang. Luckily, no one had been sitting near the red line bulkhead. The plane had been pelted with a thousand snowballs doing over 200 miles an hour.
“That damn thing just shot a warning shot across our bow.” Just then another orange streak raced in on them. The same thing happened only a little closer. Carl calmly reported, “Flameout in number two, rpm drop in one. We have no choice, sir. We’ve got to put her down.”
Boop feathered the props on the dead engines. Just then the fire warning lit up on number one followed immediately by number two. “Hit the HALON, Carl. Left engines only.” Carl flipped up the switch guard and then toggled the fire extinguisher on the number one and two engines. Both port side engines were dead now. The plane was losing airspeed fast. Boop put the plane in a shallow nose down attitude to maintain airspeed. He had the right rudder peddle pushed halfway through the floor board to compensate for the adverse yaw. He told the crew chief to prepare the passengers for a crash landing. He was stating the obvious. Bob was way ahead of him. However,
