by Arabs and Jews. That was excellent news. Before it was over, they would find the same kind of trouble in Chicago, although Davidia’s unit was there only to scratch the tip of the iceberg. He planned to bring the prototypes with him and start a major war himself.
They had considered hitting other major cities, but the cost had become too great. By attacking just the major Arab-Jew population centers, word would spread like wildfire and there would be fallout in other cities sufficient to take eyes off of the RDL and its real goal. Terrorist alerts would rise, naturally, but by making it look as if this were a local problem and not one instigated on a global scale, the U.S. government would shift focus toward handling the domestic problems and make less consideration of any international fallout.
It was all just part of the plan. Davidia wasn’t worried about anyone discovering what was really happening. And even if they did, by the time anyone could muster a response, they would be well on their way toward reaching their goal. He predicted that within a month, RDL would have gained enough support to hold the Arab world at bay. Citizens in the Middle East would be afraid to come out of their own houses for fear of reprisal and the Israeli people would finally have the upper hand.
Yes, the Jews had been oppressed quite long enough. Once the Arabs were under control, RDL could then turn its attentions to the fascists, the Neo-Nazi and Skinhead movements. At last, the Jews of the world would stand united and unchallenged in accomplishing their goals. Jews everywhere could stop being afraid, because the Resurrected Defense League would become a veritable army of freedom fighters so powerful and massive that not even the superpowers of the world could oppose them.
And no one would ever steal from them again.
CHAPTER SIX
Boca Chica, Florida Keys
John “Cowboy” Kissinger stepped from the small, commercial jet and sucked in a breath of salty, humid air rolling in from the Atlantic. Formerly designated a naval air station, the NAF of Key West was not only the premier training facility for naval aviators, but also shared a tactical interagency relationship with Howard Air Force Base in Panama. The Overseas Highway connected Key West with Miami, traversing the clear, emerald waters where the Atlantic Ocean met the Gulf of Mexico.
More than five thousand personnel were assigned to Key West, about one-quarter of them active duty or reservists, while the remainder were family members or civilian support workers. Units included the U.S. Army’s Special Forces Combat Divers School, Joint Interagency Task Force-East and the U.S. Coast Guard Group Key West. There were also a half dozen annexes spread across five separate bases that supported the Caribbean Regional Operating Center, VF-101, Naval Security Group Key West, and more Marine and Navy testing facilities than anyone probably cared to count. In short, the place was a significant representation of U.S. military might by sea, air and land.
And it was a great place to be sent under the circumstances. Kissinger couldn’t help but think it nothing more than dumb luck at being directed here by Stony Man. He considered maybe staying a few extra days after the assignment was complete, or returning here for some R & R if he found himself having to go back to Stony Man for any reason.
A muscular, black man wearing the rank of lieutenant commander and wearing a nametag that read D. Paxton greeted Kissinger with a perfunctory salute. He then identified himself as Remar’s personal aid and offered to take Kissinger to Area Bravo III where Remar was waiting. After Kissinger advised Paxton he wasn’t Navy and preferred not being saluted, he squeezed his tall, lanky body into the Hummer and they were off.
At first, it didn’t seem like Paxton was all that chatty, but was naturally gregarious. It only took the Cowboy a minute to get Paxton to open up, and in a short time he’d learned Paxton was married with two kids, had been stationed here for the past year, and that his first name was Delmar.
“This is great,” Kissinger said. “I could get used to the weather here.”
“Is this your first time in Key West, sir?” Paxton asked.
Kissinger admitted it was.
“It’s quite a place,” Paxton replied. “Since I’ve been here, well, at least since I’ve worked for Admiral Remar, I’ve really enjoyed it.”
“What’s your home of record?”
“Cleveland, sir.”
“Then this must be quite a change for you.”
Paxton shrugged and said, “I guess so, sir. My first duty assignment after I graduated college and completed OCS was in Hawaii, so I’ve grown rather accustomed to this climate.”
“Think you’ll go back to Cleveland after all of this?”
Paxton smiled and said, “I doubt it, sir.”
“I wouldn’t, either.”
“I figure to go career. I like the Navy.”
Kissinger nodded although he didn’t say anything. In a lot of ways, Paxton reminded him of Calvin James. He had that charming grin and likable personality that made it seem easy to talk to the guy. He was also built like James, and it was apparent he kept in shape. He was still a pretty young guy, though, and he didn’t possess that dangerous something that was ever-present in Calvin. The black badass from Chicago carried an edge with him everywhere and into every situation. It wasn’t really anything obvious; it was just something that was.
“How do you like working for Admiral Remar?”
“He’s a good man, sir, and a fine officer,” Paxton replied.
Kissinger didn’t detect either hesitation or trepidation in Paxton’s tone. That showed conviction, which meant Kissinger could probably count on Remar to be a straightforward type. That was good, because the Stony Man weapons smith knew how important it would be that he get good, technical information to Kurtzman and Phoenix Force. The RDL terrorists were well organized and particularly dangerous, and Kissinger didn’t have time to battle with the territorial politics sometimes present in military environments.
In about ten minutes, they arrived at Area Bravo III. Paxton showed Kissinger to a cool but cramped office in one of the annex buildings, and after Kissinger declined his offer of something to drink, Paxton went away.
Kissinger studied the walls and shelves, trying to get a better feel for Remar. He didn’t really know what to expect; there hadn’t been time to have Stony Man send him a dossier. He did get a basic rundown of Remar’s career, which had turned out quite impressive. Remar had entered the U.S. Navy in 1966 at age seventeen as an enlisted man, and in three years attained a Petty Officer Second Class rating. Following action in Vietnam as part of a small support boat crew operating for a Marine recon unit, Remar returned to the States and was assigned to the Navy Yard in Washington, D.C.
On a couple of occasions, Remar had expressed his interest to superiors of applying for OCS in the hope of becoming a Navy SEAL, but the enlisted men among the ranks scorned his desire to be an officer. However, a lieutenant assigned to his unit took a special note of the young Remar’s abilities, and the officer used his diplomatic pull in Washington to get Remar into the Navy War College in 1977. He graduated with high honors and was promoted to ensign. His high marks and astute observations brought Remar to the attention of an officer serving under the Secretary of the Navy. The officer had been one of Remar’s instructors, and he remembered the young Kendall with the remarkable insights and intuition for oceanic air-warfare. The officer
