Chapter 6

After picking up those who had set up the diversion, the shuttles carrying the SAS and Security Teams headed for the British CSG. When they were close the shuttles identified themselves to CSG’s FC and dropped their cloaking. After they were given permission to land, the five shuttles lined up in formation and entered the flight pattern. When they were behind the carrier, they drifted down the normal glide path to the carrier’s deck. Once there, they leveled out until they were just a half meter off the deck, then followed the directions to their designated area. After they had stopped, the shuttles remained suspended above the deck as the lead shuttle’s door opened.

Calvin and Todd immediately identified themselves to an officer and asked for the operations officer or ship’s commander. They had hardly finished making the request when the Commander stepped out of the operational island. Calvin saluted and introduced himself, he then introduced Todd and the rest of the team, who had followed them out onto the deck wearing their tactical suits, without the helmets.

“Captain,” said Calvin, “we are on our way back to England, and wanted to stop and see how the people we rescued are doing. Could some of the team go meet them? According to the last operations plan I saw, they were to be transported to England tomorrow.”

The Operations Officer had one of the sailors show the group with Cathan how to get down to the hangar deck. Calvin then asked the Commander how the operation was going, from their stand point.

“Well Calvin,” replied the CSG Commander, “until a few minutes ago it was going reasonably well.”

“I hope our landing here did not cause a problem,” replied Calvin quickly.

“No. The sudden influx of people has really challenged the medical staff, since they don’t feel they are really equipped to provide the best treatment as quickly as they would like to.”

Meanwhile, below on the hangar deck, Cathan saw that the medical staff were having difficulty providing care to those that had been rescued. To her, it appeared that the rapid arrival of so many patients had overwhelmed even the carrier’s augmented resources. It was also clear that the space they were using was impacting operations on the hangar deck. Cathan told Todd that they needed to start moving those they had rescued to England immediately, as there were more people than the medical crew could handle.

“Captain, our team members have just suggested that we begin moving the people we brought you to the hospital in England as quickly as possible. No reflection on your staff’s abilities.”

“My medical staff agrees, and has already strongly suggested it. Flight operations would also like the space back, as we’ve just been told to prepare to transport the Royal Marine detachment to a country near here. That operation alone will require the use of all the transports that were en route to move the refugees ashore, so they can be flown back to England. Central Command says they don’t have any more aircraft available, so we will have to wait until they come back from deploying the Marines before we can start moving the patients.”

“Captain,” said Todd, “if your medical staff can get them ready to travel, we can take care of transportation to England.”

“Captain, could I use your phone?” asked Calvin. “It looks like the medical unit in England is going to have an earlier start for their drill than planned.”

“Calvin, were you thinking of calling Mr. Bartlet?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to make that my first call, but...”

“Are you referring to the Prime Minister?” asked the CSG Commander with a look of amazement.

Calvin nodded to the Commander as Todd took out a small phone and when it was answered he said, “Rusty, is Mr. Bartlet near you?”

“Yes.”

“Calvin needs to talk to him. Could you hand him your phone?”

“Sure.”

“Calvin, use this, Mr. Bartlet will answer. He may not know it is you, though.” While Todd was talking to Calvin, Rusty handed his phone to Mr. Bartlet, telling him that Calvin would like to talk to him.

“Mr. Bartlet, this is Calvin. Sorry to bother you, but we have a little problem here. We are on the carrier, and the CSG’s medical staff is overwhelmed by the number of people we rescued. Also, the CSG has been told to transport the Royal Marines somewhere. My guess is that it is probably to Fuda. Do you have a suggestion as to whom I should call to get the field hospital set up and staffed, now?”

“The field hospital and medical unit should be fully set up,” replied Mr. Bartlet, “but if I remember the briefing correctly, the staff weren’t due to arrive until daybreak. How soon can you be there?”

“Three hours or less.”

“Bring them. The hospital will be ready,” replied Mr. Bartlet, and handed the phone back to Rusty.

Mr. Bartlet turned to the young officer sitting next to him. “Lt. Andrews, who would you call if you needed a field hospital staffed in less than two hours, to handle an emergency involving 400 people or more.”

“If it were me, I would call the appropriate base’s senior medical officer. I don’t know that he could, or would, do it for me in two hours though.”

“So you think I should call the base’s senior medical officer? Why not someone with more authority?”

“Because doing that would lengthen the response time. I suspect that he would initiate an alert to his staff, and then inform his commander.”

“Sounds reasonable, now all I need is a phone number.”

“Sir, I think this number will work for you,” said Aoife, as she handed him her phone, eliciting a surprised from him.

It was a few moments before he said, “Good evening Doctor, this is Mr. Bartlet, the Prime Minister. I will be brief. Your staff was scheduled to be at a field hospital tomorrow at daybreak. The situation has changed, your patients will now begin arriving in approximately three hours or less. Their number and condition has stressed the CSG’s medical staff. We are counting on you to be ready for their arrival. My Chief of Staff will call you shortly, to make sure you get all the support you need to accomplish the task. Good evening, Commander.”

The looks on the faces of the escorts around the table was one of amazement. Mr. Bartlet looked at them and smiled. “We will talk about this in a minute. My Chief of Staff needs to know about his new responsibility.” The group watched as he got up and walked over to the table where the Chief of Staff was sitting with another group. After a few moments, he came back to the table, while the Chief of Staff made his way out of the room, occasionally stopping to talk to a few others.

“I can see all of you are curious about what just happened,” said Mr. Bartlet. “Unfortunately, this is not a good place to share information openly, although knowing more about this situation would be beneficial to your professional growth.”

“Excuse me, sir,” said Sarah, “only this table will hear our conversation.” Mr. Bartlet looked puzzled, then smiled when Aoife nodded.

“With Sarah’s assurance, I will provide you with some background concerning what led to the phone call. Tonight, a mixed force of Irish Special Ops and SAS units rescued a number of people being held captive by a group associated with a country’s leader. Since these people were captured, they have been subjected to intense conditioning in order to prepare them for sale to individuals or brothels as pleasure toys. An auction was to take place this evening, but did not, since our team showed up in time. We are certain the captives did not choose this as their future. The Commander of the SAS unit just called to tell me that the numbers rescued were overwhelming the resources of the CSG’s medical staff. He called to ask for guidance concerning whom to call to accelerate staffing the hospital here, which was planned to take place at daybreak tomorrow. At your suggestion, I made the call for him, to the Commander of the Medical Unit that was to staff the field hospital. The Chief of Staff is now ensuring that the Medical Unit Commander has all the support he needs to open the hospital before those rescued arrive. I could have let Calvin make the call, but I suspect that having my office initiate the arrangements will ensure that the medics are ready. So now you know a little more about what prompted the events you just saw. We don’t expect any of this to be in the papers.” Several of them smiled as he made the last comment. He quickly added, “Well at least, not in any detail.”

“Calvin was the SAS Commander,” stated Lt. Thomas, softly.

“Yes,” replied Prime Minister Bartlet, before he realized the implication. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t really. I heard the name Calvin when Rusty told you about the call. Calvin is my brother’s name, and he is in SAS. No, he didn’t tell me. I can only explain it by saying that it was intuition that told me it was my Calvin. Aoife, I now understand what you meant earlier, but if they are in the Eastern Mediterranean, how can they be back in England in two hours?” Her comments caused many strange looks to pass between the other escorts, as many were puzzled by her comments.

Prime Minister Bartlet had a surprised look on his face, which was slowly replaced by a curious one. After a moment he asked, “And why do you think they are in the Eastern Mediterranean?”

Lt. Thomas suddenly felt very uncomfortable and began to turn red from embarrassment. She felt certain she was right, but was concerned that she had put her foot in it. Taking a deep breath, she replied, “Sir, it is a combination of events, or bits of information, that lead me to that conclusion. Shortly after we arrived in the reception area, Rusty, Aoife, Sarah and Tara were very distracted for a few moments. When it passed, Aoife said that they had a group assisting with a rescue mission. Calvin told me the other day that he thought he would be gone for a few days. The only carrier group at sea that is close to 2 hours away is in the Eastern Mediterranean area. So it all fits together, even though I am not sure we have aircraft that will cover that distance that quickly.” Her conclusions drew several chuckles around the table.

Lt. Andrews said, “Now that you have shared the key elements you used to draw your conclusion, I can see how you fit it together. Lt. Thomas, if your conclusion is correct, I will be amazed. I know that I could not have drawn any conclusion from the elements you had. Any consideration of a link between them would have been ignored, because of the extremely low probability of one existing.”

“That is true,” replied Rusty, “however she came to it some 2 hours before the medical unit will be operational, and the patient’s arrival. Remember, she implied that the conclusion was an intuitive solution, using some loosely related pieces of information or elements. While intuition played a role, linking the key elements came about because of an apparent clue she saw in each one. If this was a hostile situation, and depending on which side she was on, she would likely have time to either support or counter the move. The issue she would have faced is that she wouldn’t have time to verify anything. She would need to decide based on benefits versus risk, and the strength of her intuition.

“Let me add, all of us are impressed with both of you. Lt. Andrews, your choice of who to contact regarding getting the medical staff in place was good, even if it would have taken more persuasion to get it started without Prime Minister Bartlet’s clout. Lt. Thomas’ analysis of the few bits of information she had was excellent. I suspect that her intuition was augmented by her using a form of pattern recognition to connect the seemingly unrelated elements. As to the flight time, Lt. Thomas is correct the distance is too great for your aircraft to cover in two hours. We are supplying the transportation. In fact, those rescued are getting ready to board now.”

Both murmured, thank you, as the other escorts nodded their agreement with his comments.

“Rusty, Sarah, Aoife, and Tara,” said Lt. Smith, “I am curious about something.”

“Feel free to ask your question, I am certain we will not be offended,” said Tara. “There is a small possibility that we could choose not to answer, but that is not likely. We are sure there will be no repercussions for asking.”

“Thank you. All of you being here seems to be extraordinarily risky. There are assuredly many on Earth who would like to have your technology. There are undoubtedly others who think you should be killed or caged as if you were animals.”

“We don’t see coming here as any more risky than traveling or living in space,” replied Aoife.

“But we outnumber you,” he protested, “we could just subdue you and cart you away.”

“Let me answer you indirectly,” said Tara smiling, “if you had a 2 to 1 advantage, would you try the same thing with a room full of SAS members?”

“Most certainly not, it would be suicide. You would die quickly, if you were lucky,” he retorted.

“So does that answer your question?” Several of the other escorts had faint smiles on their faces, as did Mr. and Mrs. Bartlet.

“You’re telling me your group’s capabilities are equivalent to SAS troops,” he exclaimed, with a disbelieving look on his face.

“Yes, she is,” replied Mr. Bartlet. “Based on information we have concerning their other contacts with Earth, I believe they are probably better.”

“Other contacts?” replied Lt. Smith, before he realized who was speaking.

Mr. Bartlet looked a little surprised, but said, “There is circumstantial evidence that these people have quietly assisted in the release of other people who were held captive. There is also some evidence that they supported an Army unit that was being set up for ambush by terrorists.”

“Well then, the aggressor could just use a drug to incapacitate them,” replied Lt. Smith quickly, thinking checkmate.

“They could,” said Sarah, “if they had a death wish. Such an attempt would likely fail as well, but it is a certainty that all the aggressors would be dead long before the drug was fully effective. Without knowing the drug, it is not possible to estimate our casualties.”

Lt. Smith started to say something else, when Lt. Andrews said, “Lt., give it up. From my perspective, I want them to be our friends. Even after our short time together, I would now take any threat to them as a threat to me.” The escorts at the table laughed and nodded their agreement, as Lt. Smith blushed.

“Lt. Smith, you had good questions,” said Rusty. “You may have found part of your answers just by observing. When a group with a high profile like ours moves around so casually, they are either foolish or have some hole cards. You should always look for the hole cards.”

“You sound just like Calvin and his buddies.” Lt. Thomas paused and then said, “Were you Special Forces?”

Mr. Bartlet started to respond, but Rusty waved him off. “Let’s just say I am familiar with Special Ops.” Mr. Bartlet smiled at Rusty’s reply. It was correct, but based what he knew, which wasn’t much, it was a gross understatement.

Just then, the lights blinked, indicating that the choir’s performance would start soon.

“Commander,” said Todd, “do you need escorts for the aircraft transporting the Royal Marines?”

“Supposedly, not,” he replied without much conviction. “We would be much more comfortable if we could send a couple. However, that was not part of our orders, as command views the countries we are crossing as friendly. There is also an issue of any escorts having sufficient range.”

“I think we can offer you a solution.”

“Dóchas FOC,” said Todd.

“Dóchas FOC, go ahead.”

“Do you have a couple of aircraft available that can escort some British troop transports?”

“Yes. A flight can be overhead in about 15 minutes. They will turn on transponders as they approach and contact the CSG FC. Can you provide more detail on the mission?”

“Several transports are to carry the Royal Marines, most likely to Fuda, and would feel more comfortable with an escort.”

“Captain, Dóchas FOC says there will be four aircraft overhead that can serve as escorts for your planes in 15 minutes. Is that soon enough?”

“Who is Dóchas FOC?”

“Our flight operations center.”

“It will take more time than that before we are ready to deploy.”

“They will contact your flight control when they are several kilometers out. They will linger at the destination as long as you need them.”

“Sir, are there any guidelines on engagement, if challenged?”

“Whatever is needed to defend our aircraft.”

After conveying her observations of the makeshift hospital area to Todd, Cathan sought out the head of medical operations in the hangar. She found him standing off to one side, conferring with two other officers in what was, based upon appearances, a rather animated conversation. Cathan walked up beside him and waited to be noticed, or for a break in the conversation. After a moment, she touched his arm and said, “Sir, my name is Cathan. Would you mind if I addressed this group?”

The doctor looked her over carefully, then noticed several SAS soldiers standing behind her. “I take it that it was your group that rescued them,” he replied somewhat testily. As he spoke, he looked at the SAS soldiers behind her.

“Yes sir, all of us were part of the operation,” said one of the soldier’s in black.

“Yes, you can speak to them.”

“What is their status?”

“Health-wise, we have found nothing serious or life threatening, and with the proper care their physical injuries will heal quickly. Some of them will require surgery to correct what was done to them. Of greater concern is their psychological stability, based upon what they told us about their experiences. We fear that many of them will become depressed, unless they can come to terms with their experiences. If this was the kind of trauma we were trained. If it weren’t for the few abrasive loudmouths, I think we could have provided care more efficiently. If they were military, we could easily handle the loudmouths.”

“Our apologies, as we did have some idea of the injuries that would need treatment,” replied Cathan. “This mission was scheduled very quickly and we, apparently, overlooked providing you with that information.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. In fact, I am pleased that we did not have the trauma cases we expected. All of this has been a very different experience for us.”

Cathan thanked the doctor before stepping over toward the group. “Attention!” said Cathan, in unison with her clan. Their combined voices carried over all the noise and echoed slightly. “Listen up! Can everyone understand me?” Her team members looked around the area to see if anyone had a puzzled look on their face. “You are all safe now. You are on a British aircraft carrier in the Mediterranean Sea. We need you to be patient for a few more hours. The medical staff here wants to finish your preliminary medical evaluations. Once they are complete, we will be leaving for England. There are aircraft already waiting on deck for that purpose. So, in a few moments we will begin helping those who have completed their medical evaluation to the flight deck, to board those aircraft. In England, a field hospital has been set up to provide you with any required medical treatment. This field hospital is on one of the bases these guys in black use. At the moment, there are very few people who know you have been rescued, or even know that you needed to be rescued. We intend to keep it that way. Once you are in England and rested, you can begin to consider other issues affecting your future. There will be people there to assist you in sorting out issues. Some of you undoubtedly have questions about us, these we can answer during our trip to England.

“Fuck England! Just let me die,” screamed a woman, as she began wrestling with a nurse again.

Ciar and Sorcha immediately stepped over next to her. “So you would prefer to be a dead victim, rather than a survivor?” asked Ciar in a hard voice, as those around them moved back.

“You want to tell the slavers and other scum that you are not strong enough to survive. The door is over there. From there it is a clear path to the ocean. Go jump.”

As Ciar was talking, the nurse had moved back from them. Her facial expression showed surprise at the approach the tall woman was taking. The woman who had been screaming started toward the open door. She had only taken a few steps when Ciar said, “Well, hurry up. Go jump. Run away from yourself. We didn’t. We chose to survive, and to do it well. But you, apparently, are too chicken to try that. It takes a strong person to suck it up and go on, in spite of their ordeals. I guess your captors were correct about selecting you to be one of their mindless cum buckets.”

“You don’t know what it’s like. To do all the nasty things you are told to do. To feel your body respond, while your mind screams at it to stop. It’s horrible.”

“Yes it is, when you are forced to do it. Some of us have had similar experiences. We believe that what was done to you was wrong, but your body was only responding to stimulation the way it was designed to. The human mind has many abilities, but you cannot totally control your body’s response to stimulation. You tried to fight a battle that could not be won. Stimulating your body sexually, and its ultimate release, is what relieves’ many of the stresses in our lives. This is especially true when it occurs between those that care for each other. At that place, you were used. You had no control. So it is now time to start again. You now have experiences that you would not normally have had. With this knowledge, you can now focus on those that you liked, and find others with whom to share them. I can assure you that in the future, your close friends will be very close to you.”

Ciar, Sorcha and the nurse watched the woman take a few more steps and then begin to bawl. Sorcha and the nurse went to hold her as she sobbed.

“Come, we need to get moving,” said Cathan to the others watching. “Those of you who have already been seen by a doctor, please follow Máiréad up to the flight deck, as our transportation is there. Medics, can some of the crew assist with those needing stretchers?”