the heavy weapons and protection the Stryker offered seemed inadequate. They were as unstoppable as the tide coming in at night. Slow, ponderous, pitiless as nature could be. The girl lost interest and returned her attention to the slab of meat in her hands. You aren’t a threat anymore. They’ve won. They always win. You should know that by now.
“Hojo,” The Commander tapped his radio. “We’re heading back now, see you in a minute.”
“Yes sir.” Hojo’s voice mirrored his own. Somber and dark, like a forest on a moonless night.
“Any sign of that other chopper?” The Commander was eager for something else to say or think about. The girl on the pilot’s back refused to leave his mind’s eye.
“No sir,” Hojo replied. “We definitely hit it.”
*
“Yup, they definitely hit us.” The pilot was back to his monotone calm.
“Confirmed,” The co-pilot’s voice was all business now. “We are leaking fuel.”
It had not been like people always described moments of terror. It had been a lightening flash of shock. One second they were watching an attack chopper climb quickly. Beautiful long lines of light were chasing its’ dark form like vertical shooting stars to wish upon on a summer night.
Bang!
Molly thought it sounded exactly like a car running over an object on the road. The noise, a second crump! This one felt closer to the passenger compartment. Then, red lights began to appear in front of the pilot’s console. It was like an epiphany to Molly. When this marvel of modern engineering had been floating on air it had seemed like magic. Now, the beast was wounded and it was a growing fear inside her. All that keeps you airborne are five rotating blades. It’s all physics, really. When the blades fail you fall into the clutches of gravity. A blackened landscape below felt like the mouth of a huge monster.
“Are we going to have to set down?” Molly asked, trying not to sound nervous.
“That is not an option, little lady.” Hatch commented out of the side of his mouth.
“Ma’am, hostiles would be all over us in a second.” The co-pilot was clicking through screen after screen. “We need a friendly place to set down.”
“Then Fort Knox it is.” Molly spoke to no one in particular.
“When did you start giving orders?” Hatch’s voice was angry. He raised himself up as high as he could in cramped quarters.
“She is right,” The co-pilot kept his eyes on the computer screen to avoid the angry look from Hatch. “We just have enough fuel to make it.”
“If that’s where they’re going.” Hatch wasn’t about to give up yet.
“It has to be where they’re going.” Molly stared straight ahead into the darkness while the co-pilot nodded his head.
....and why is that?” Hatch again. He was starting to get on Molly’s nerves.
“There is nothing else out here that might interest them.” She turned to face him. His mouth was an uneven, challenging line.
“Why the hell would they want Fort Knox?” Hatch leaned back and let a sense of superiority settle in with his monetary knowledge. “It’s just gold. They can’t steal it. They don’t have the vehicles.”
“Ever see that sixties spy movie?” The co-pilot offered.
“Which one,” Hatch turned abruptly to the co-pilot. “The one with Pussy Galore?”
“Yeah, that’s the one.” The co-pilot held back a lecherous grin out of respect for Molly. “What were they doing at Fort Knox?”
“They were planting a nuclear bomb.” Molly’s voice was like a knife through the bullshit.
“Yeah,” the co-pilot’s humor was gone now. “I think that was it.”
“Yeah,” Hatch nodded absently. “Why the hell would they do that?”
“It would make all the gold at Fort Knox radioactive so it would be worthless and destroy the American dollar.” Molly felt herself slowly recalling a conversation:
“Does he have nuclear weapons?” Molly remembered asking the question at the Pentagon.
“We don’t know.” Mac had replied.
“Break radio silence.” Hatch issued the first order Molly had heard him give. It was unusually quiet. As if he did not care for the authority.
“Yes sir,” The co-pilot’s affable tone had vanished. It was business now. “Zero Cool to The Gibson.”
“This is The Gibson,” A voice was suddenly there. Clear as a bell on the speakers. Schools were always falling apart from lack of funding but the latest chess piece in the military game had one hell of a sound system.
We have a pretty good idea of their intentions.” Hatch reported and nodded to the co-pilot.
“Sending link now,” The co-pilot reported.
“Zero cool,” the voice was back after a pause. “Do we have an idea what they’re up to?”
“That is still up in the air, sir.” He chanced a look in Molly’s direction. She feigned indifference, sometimes it was best to just blend in to the background. “It’s pretty clear it has something to do with the gold.”
“Affirmative.”
“What possible damage could they do to us with the gold,” Hatch mused out loud and then added; “If you mind me asking, sir.”
“Not at all, Zero Cool.”
“Our reporter supplied us with their armament.” Hatch nodded to Molly. “We are dealing with about 12 to 15 Strykers, armed with 30 mm machine guns and 75 mm cannon.”
“No heavy vehicles?”
“No sir,” Hatch paused and wondered aloud. “It looks like they have no plans to steal it.”
“Evidently not, Zero Cool.” The voice was almost machine-like. But Molly could feel whirling calculations behind the words. These were shadow people. The ones you never saw or heard about. They were the invisible end of foreign policy, Black ops.
“They may be out to destabilize the American dollar.” Molly finally spoke out of turn. Hatch tried to silence her with a hardened look. She gave him a calm demeanor in reply.
“Madam, we are not on the gold standard. Nixon took us off of that in the 70’s.” The Gibson voice replied with a hint of superiority.
“We went back on it four years ago after the currency crisis.” Molly answered the voice box. Hatch could only stand in shock as she delivered.
“You are speaking out of turn, little lady.” He warned.
“I’m not army, Lieutenant
