Part 4A: Thursday

Chapter 64: Jacob's father's view.

3am, Thursday, October 28th, 2006

Jerusalem was supposed to be the city of God.

And it was acting very godlike at the moment.

Old Testament God, that is. There was fighting and feuding, bickering and betrayal. A lot of people thought it was odd that all three religions that claimed Jerusalem as a holy place and also claimed mercy and honorable treatment of fellow human beings would not practice it here.

The very God each of them claims to worship is either laughing, or more likely crying tears at the behavior done in His Name.

No wonder so many people these days are abandoning religion.

The streets had people scattered here and there. The people carried guns with the fervency of the National Rifle Association. And there were more guns in this town then there were shown at the last nine NRA conventions.

Armed crimes committed over religion were as common as people disagreeing over religion.

The United Nations security checkpoint four was a perfect example of that. It was a bunkered building with guards, barbed wire and it even had a machine gunner on the second floor.

Major Daniel Stone of the United States Marine Corps was at a desk doing paperwork.

I'm certainly living up to my name. East Jerusalem is a den of danger.

I pushed the paperwork aside. I think I would rather face the lions outside than this annoying paperwork. Any decision above using the latrine needs paperwork in triplicate. Using the latrine only requires the paperwork to be done in duplicate. What I'd really like to do is use the paperwork in the latrine. It's softer then the stuff the Marine Corps is sending us these days.

"Sir?"

I looked up to see somebody I thought was on guard duty today.

"We have somebody under a flag of truce here to see you."

And so it goes again. At least twice a week we get these messengers from one group or another. If it wasn't for all the civilians in the area, I'd suggest to my superiors that we isolate the area and hand control of it to whichever group was standing last.

"Bring him in." I told the guard. "But be alert."

I watched as an Israeli dressed in battle fatigues was brought in.

The Israeli let himself be searched for weapons without complaint.

That should have been my first clue trouble was coming.

"He's clean." The guard said.

"I've come with a message." The Israeli said.

"Who do you represent?" I asked tiredly. I received more messages sitting at this desk than I think I would have received if I were working for Western Union.

"I represent the Sharon brigade, agents of Almighty God in the Liberation of Occupied Israel."

The usual speech, then.

Ok. I guess I have to give my standard reply.

"I'm Major Daniel Stone, United States Marine Corps and am here at the invitation of the United Nations and the Liberated State of Palestine."

The envoy of the Sharon brigade practically spat onto the floor in disgust at the mention of the name of the new Palestinian nation.

"I know who you are. You and your intruders are interfering in the Word of Almighty God. If you remain in the land God gave to his children, you and all the other trespassers here will be dead before the dawn. God will grant us victory."

I tried to remain calm. But I hated threats to my friends here.

Even if death was the occupational hazard of being a marine.

"You must know that the President has promised to cut off all aid to Israel if your group attacks once more."

"We know that our former friends betrayed us to our enemies and threw God's Children to the wolves. The Day of Retribution is surely coming says the Lord."

BOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!

Every piece of glass in the checkpoint shattered.

Hell, every window in the neighborhood must have shattered.

The ground shook like an earthquake hit.

The cries of my men filled my ears filtered through the dust and falling plaster.

A chunk of masonry fell less then five feet from me.

When my eyes adapted enough to see, I saw it had hit the messenger. It was crushing him to death.

I shook my head sadly at the dying messenger. "It looks like your friends couldn't wait for the Lord."

The messenger glared at me as he died.

Chapter 65: Fred

Fred's log, Acting Commander, 3:10 am, Thursday, October 28th

Acting Commander.

Me.

Yeah. If Jacob does not die from what he did earlier tonight, he's gonna die of laughter when he hears about this.

I was sitting in the command chair again.

I must have been crazy the first time.

Now I'm not only doing it again, I'm taking a ship I'm not even sure I rebuilt correctly into a war zone.

I hope this ad hoc crew of Jacob's lives up to his expectations again.

Bob's voice broke into my thoughts. "We are approaching the Middle East." He reported.

"Ok. Lets see how well the repairs hold. Red alert. Diane, give me all the engines. Give me maximum shields and power. Bring up all weapons. We are at battle stations."

Diane's hands worked across her control board.

Bob hits a few keys of his own. "Ok. Weapons are ready."

Lucy asked "Should I try to contact anybody. Let them know we are coming?"

"Not yet," Fred says. "Soon enough they will be trying to speak to us. Joe, take us to East Jerusalem."

"Proximity alert," Joe said.

The phone went off.

"On screen." Bob said.

I told Lucy to put the call on the main speakers.

Then the inside of the ship changed. Not for real. Everybody and everything was still where it was before Bob spoke. But now the middle of the control room was taken up with a three D holographic display. The Dutchman was at the center with the extended landscape in excellent details.

Mouths dropped.

We should be used to this by now, but our mouths still dropped in shock.

Bob grinned. "I've been trying to talk Jacob in to licensing this to the video gaming industry."

I laughed a little then addressed whoever was on the phone. "Who is this?"

"This is Tiffany. What the hell are you doing on the Dutchman?"

Being constantly amazed.

"I helped rescue you." I told her. "Because I recovered first, I took the command."

"What do you think you are doing now?"

"What I'm trying to do is get one of Jacob's parents so that they can sign the paperwork. The asinine doctors won't start without it."

"Six incoming jets." Bob shouted.

"They are definitely sending signals at us." Lucy said. "At least one of them is a communication attempt."

"Sorry Tiffany, but I'm going to have to cut this short. I think we'll about to be in a battle. Do me a favor and stay by the phone. We may need you soon enough. Ok Lucy, cut that call, and get me the other one."

"Attention unidentified flying object. Who the fuck are you and what are you doing approaching Israeli airspace?"

Unidentified my left foot. I know exactly what this flying object is.

"This is Acting Commander Fred Dash of the Flying Dutchman. Who the hell are you?"

"This is Captain Frank of the Israeli Defense Force. What nation does the Flying Dutchman belong to?"

I looked around, hoping for suggestions or inspiration. I got none. "We belong to the teen nation." I said. "We are on a mission of mercy to Eastern Jerusalem."

"You sound like Americans. And we hate Americans here. I've been ordered to prevent any resupplying of occupied Israel."

"We are on a mission of mercy." I repeated. I had no intentions of getting involved in a war.

"The only mercy that is going to be given is that you can turn that contraption around and return to your Nazi homeland." Captain Frank said.

I was furious. I doubt even Jacob's vast scientific imagination could grasp the levels my anger was reaching.

I now hated Captain Frank more than Tiffany hated Coach Koke.

And the fates have stupidly put me in this chair.

I had the power to act on my anger.

And damn it, I was.

I slammed a fist into the palm of my hand. "Apologize or you will surely die."

"Never, you Nazi freak."

"Missiles in the air!" Diane shouts.

"Bob? Just how much confidence do you have in what this thing can do?"

"From what Jacob told me about it, a lot."

"Very well. Joe. Give me a status report."

"All shields are operational and at maximum. Shield generators ready to regenerate as needed. All weapons are charged. All other systems operating at roughly 94%."

"Excellent. Lets show these idiots the foolishness of firing at things you do not understand. Bob, ignore the missiles."

"But Fred..." Diane started to say.

The missiles hit us and exploded as Diane was talking.

"Joe, shield strength?" Diane asked, hesitantly.

"Outermost shields down 65%." Joe responded.

"Remember we still have three other shield generators." Bob reminded us. "Jacob really built back ups into this."

"Excellent." I said.

Over the radio we heard some confused pilots chattering.

"That's impossible."

"Must have been a malfunction."

"No it wasn't. I saw them explode. 4 feet away from whatever the hell that is."

"Everybody fire!" Shouted Captain Frank.

I just sat there.

This could become more addicting then some of the stuff at Harry's parties.

"Missiles in the air." Diane shouted. "Twelve of them!"

"Joe, lock targeting beams on those missiles." I said as calmly as if I was playing football.

"Done." Joe replied equally as calmly.

"Blow them up." "Done."

The computer and I might as well have been talking about the weather in Eastern France.

The four of us aboard the Dutchman and the six fighter pilots aboard the six fighter craft watched the missiles blow up before they got within 1000 feet of the Dutchmen.

"Good" I purred, "very good. Now get me a target lock on each of those fighters."

There was shouting now on the radio between the fighter pilots.

"Excuse me," I said. "I have something to say."

"Now what Nazi freak?"

I let my boiling hatred at their Nazi freak comments show.

"Say hello to Hitler for me. Joe, destroy those aircraft."

On the holographic display we watched the Israeli fighter aircraft suddenly flare up and explode.

They exploded before they had time to respond to my Hitler comment.

"I cannot believe you just killed them." Lucy told me. "We could have easily out run them, and our shields would have kept us alive. Why?"

Like the others, she was shocked.

I was unrepentant. "Never call the grandson of a concentration camp survivor a Nazi freak."

Chapter 66: Jacob's father

3:12am

Bullets were flying back and forth.

The Marines were firing carefully, trying only to hit those that were firing upon them. They were limited by the United Nations Rules of Engagement. Killing civilians and noncombatants was severely frowned upon.

The Sharon Brigade's people on the other hand were shooting at everything in sight. They figured that everybody knew what an evil thing it was to have the United States Marines here. Therefore, anybody nearby had chosen to be close to that evil. Worse yet, they could have chosen to stand with that evil. Death was the only thing such a decision deserved. Death at the hands of the Chosen of Almighty God. The Sharon Brigade.

The solider ran back into the building as an explosion occurred behind him. "Major!!! Major assault in progress. Everybody outside is dead."

Then I heard a voice outside shouting. "Come on! Kill the enemies of God!"

I had a few men set up a defense perimeter. The rest of the surviving men I took up to the second floor.

Outside there was more gunfire and some explosions.

The Marine taking a window post was blown back a bit by a missile that missed going in the window and hit a tree instead.

I caught him as he stumbled at me.

The guard pointed out the window as he fell into my arms. "Oh shit."

"Now what?" I muttered as I pulled the guard up. I looked where the guard was pointing.

What in the name of the Halls of Montezuma is THAT???

It was about the size of a small Greyhound bus. It looked 40 feet long and 15 feet wide. The outside looked rather battered as though it got into a crash and smash derby with three ticked off tanks. There were things mounted on the hull that looked vaguely familiar. Speakers and receiving type things. There was also other, odder stuff. It plainly looked like it had gone thru hell. There was something I could not identify keeping various airborne things at least 4 feet from the hull. It was flying silently.

And it was coming this way.

Chapter 67: Fred

Fred's log, acting commander, 316pm, Thursday, October 28th

I had the Flying Dutchman maintain a slow and steady course.

We looked at the battle scene below us.

Lucy looked at the mess that used to be the building the United Nations checkpoint was based in. "Are you sure he is down there?"

"According to the information on the Internet, this is the place." Diane said. "Although the United Nations site on the net didn't say anything about a battle."

Bob shook his head at the complete lack of good behavior in this holy city. "It looks like they need our help, whether Stone is here or not."

"Agreed." I told him. "Take us in. Put the hatch on the American side."

Bob worked his controls. "Switching to surface operations."

Bob steered the ship so that the attackers were all scrambling back, then landed between them and the security post.

Both sides started shooting at us.

"Ok Lucy." I said in my 'you should know by now what to do' tone.

"Speakers on."

"Listen up, we're friends. If you are in here, Major Stone, hurry up and get aboard." I paused. "Speakers off."

"Speakers off." Lucy confirmed.

"Good." I didn't want those attacking the Marines knowing my next command.

"Bob, drop shields, left side only if we can."

"I don't think we can do that."

"Who the hell are you?" a strange voice called.

"I'm a friend of Jacob. This is the Flying Dutchman, and he needs you in the hospital."

"Your must be fucking crazy. No way."

"Fucking crazy I may be. But you are nuttier. At the very least, we can get you out of the battle before your position is overrun. What's worse? Getting aboard something strange... or staying behind for your certain death?"

"Good point. Coming."

"Damn it. Joe, take out the opposing forces. Bob, when it looks like Stone is going to hit the shields, drop them. Put them up as soon as possible afterwards."

The Dutchman started firing at the attackers.

The attackers fired back. They were willing to die for God.

Those aboard the ship were worried about was going to happen next.

"He's almost here... dropping shields."

A couple bullets hit the ship.

"Look," Mindy shouted. "They are readying some form of rocket!"

We heard somebody come aboard.

"He's in." Diane called.

"Shields up." Bob went to hit the button as he told us.

"Hold on. More people coming." the voice I had been arguing with called out. "Wait..."

Mindy pointed. "Incoming."

We heard a couple more people board.

"That's it, sir."

"Ok. What ever you were going to do, do it now."

Bob hit the button.

Chapter 68: Jacob's dad.

3:19am

We all held our breath as the missile hit.

The missile hit the shields moments after the last Marine boarded.

"The shields are back up." a voice said.

I think we all noticed this. The clue that gave it away was the fact we were all still breathing.

Another teen announced. "There are three vehicles approaching us."

Is this ship run by teenagers?

What in the name of the gods everybody is fighting over is going on here?

I looked around as I went from the hatch towards the front. In every science fiction movie I've ever watched, that is where they put the control room or bridge. When I reached the control room I saw a bunch of things that looked vaguely familiar. The stations were manned by a bunch of teenagers.

There is only one person on this planet that could produce such a craft and yet have to resort to teenagers to crew it.

My youngest son.

"Jacob, I didn't think you'd be dense enough to..."

Some kid turned the command chair around and interrupted me. "Your son was not dense enough to do this. Your son is nearly dead."

Who the hell is that? I wanted to know. What the hell is he talking about?

Not to mention why is he sitting in Jacob's chair?

The kid introduced everybody. As he said their names, he pointed. "Major Stone, meet Bob, Diane, Lucy and Mindy. I am Fred. I am also acting commander of the Flying Dutchman. Both your son and his girlfriend are in the hospital."

"I'm Major Stone, United States Marine Corps."

"We know. What we don't know is who is the bunch of people that followed you in."

"They are the survivors of my detachment. I could not leave them behind."

"Then they can come along. But they are to stay in the work room and stay quiet." Fred spun the command chair back around to face the main screen. "Diane, please put those vehicles you guys were talking about on screen."

"Sorry Fred, they are being blocked by all the buildings."

"Ok. Target weapons at both ends of the street and let me know what shows up."

Lucy told us. "We have a lot of radio chatter, mainly American."

"What else?"

"Some sound French, and something in a language I don't recognize."

"Keep alert." Fred says. "Major Stone, we're here because your son is in a coma. The doctors were told that you and your wife were in the Middle East. They still refused to operate."

Diane said, "We have a visual. They are French, I think."

"Did anybody here take French at school?"

"Nope."

"No."

"Sorry."

"Shit."

My radio went off. I pulled it from my pouch and answered it. "Major Stone, United States Marine Corps here... yes I know what's happening at checkpoint four. They appear to be on our side."

"Who ever they are, they are firing on us." Diane yelled.

Not for long. "Joe, lock target and..."

"No," I shouted, stopping them, "they are from the United Nations."

"Ok." Fred says, "Cancel that Joe."

"Command cancellation confirmed." Joe responded.

"Relax." I said into my radio. "Believe it or not, they are friends of my son. This thing as you call it, is his little hobby toy, and they just took out the entire terrorist assault squad."

"Yeah man," We heard the American group leader say back, "and rumor has it that this hobby toy of your son's took out six Israeli fighter craft too."

"That's no rumor." Diane told him.

"Six of them. We shot down six jets." Bob corrected him.

"Why did you guys do that?" I asked.

In a tight voice, Fred answered me. "They called the grandson of a concentration camp survivor a Nazi freak."

I heard a new voice on my radio. "This is General Smith."

"Yes, sir" I responded.

A General on the unit radio? What is going on here? I wondered.

"Put who ever is in charge of that thing on."

"Yes sir." I turned to the teenager sitting in the center chair. "General Smith insists on speaking to you."

"Joe, figure out which incoming signal is going into that radio and run it though the ship's speakers."

"Ok."

"Identify yourself." The General's voice now demanded over the speakers.

"Acting Commander Fred Dash, currently in charge of the Flying Dutchman."

"Consider yourself under my command. Prepare to receive your orders."

"Fuck no."

I went pale.

People usually do not talk to Generals like that.

The General was so furious all he could do was sputter.

Fred continued as though he was arguing with another teenager. "Listen to me. The only reason I'm here is to get Major Stone. And you must be stoned if you think I'm suddenly going to be listening to loudmouth strangers. His son's girlfriend saved my girl from sexual assault. Then she got kidnapped and assaulted her self. Jacob is in the hospital, in emergency, practically dead from saving Tiffany. Not only are you talking to the wrong kid, but I don't have time for this." Fred flipped a few switches on the command chair. "Bob, activate the engines, switch it to sub orbital and take us up to 6000 feet. Go 50 mph till we clear the city, then 2500 mph."

The General sputtered in shock for a few moments, then he calmed down. "Stone, you believe them?"

"Yes. No way my son would let anybody fly his project if he was not dying."

Smith's voice softened slightly. "Ok Major. Go deal with the hospital. But as soon as you can, we need you here." General Smith pauses. "And I'd really like to have that craft too."

Fred said, "With luck, Major Stone will be back by nightfall, local time. As for the ship, you'll have to wait for Jacob."

The ship flew out of the radio's range.

Chapter 69: Fred

Fred's log, acting commander, 3:30am, Thursday October 28th, 2006.

Major Stone was pacing up and down the width of the control cabin. "Can't this thing go any faster?" He asked me.

Faster?

He wants to go faster?

Can anything else go this fast?

I asked, "Bob?"

"Not that I know of. I'm not even sure that this is safe."

"Diane?"

"Some of these things are redlining. Others peak in and out of the danger zones. Each spike seems to go higher."

Bob says, "That sounds bad."

"You don't know?" I asked.

"Like you, this is my first time in the Dutchman."

"Damn it. We have to slow down."

"What???" Major Stone shouted. "You can't be serious."

Bob said "Fred's right. We'll be no good to anybody if we blow ourselves up."

"Damn it. Joe, drop speed by one third, give me an ETA."

"Complying. Speed now 1750 mph. ETA 115 minutes."

"Will we in be time?" Major Stone asks.

Chapter 70: Tiffany

3:55pm

I paced back and forth in the observation room. At one point or another, I must have tried to read every magazine in here. The seats were worse than the chairs at school. And the view through the window had not changed. I have garden statues that have shown more life recently than Jacob.

The rape counselor tried to get me to relax. "Relax. It will be all right."

Relaxing was the one thing I could not do.

"Roberts, you do not understand."

"Call me Sylvia."

"Ok, Sylvia. This is all my fault. If he had never got involved in my life, he'd never have had to keep saving me. That would have spared him the feud that escalated to the point where Koke raped me, then threw me out of the moving sports car to piss Jacob off. It's all my fault he's in that horrible mess."

"You know that can't be true." the counselor tried to tell me.

"Do I?" Tiffany asks. "Bullshit. He thought I was worthy of dating him. That means I should be able to take this. Hell, I should have seen trouble coming and prevented it." I paced some more. "What the hell is taking them so long?" I looked for my cell phone. "Damn! It was destroyed in the chase. Shit."

"You can borrow mine."

"Thanks." I quickly dialed Diane's phone. "Where the hell are you guys... what do you mean, you had to slow down... damn it, I can't argue that... how soon... less then an hour if no delays... then I hope you have no delays. We'll be waiting... he does? Then put him on... yes, they told you the truth. In a coma and the hospital is only doing what's needed to keep him alive... no need to shout. Do you think that I let a bunch of high school kids fly Jacobs's project into a war zone for the fun of it? We told them about your and the rest of his family being in the Middle East, but they insisted on a signature of a family member... ok, I can't wait."

"Did the call go well?"

"Not really. Mr. Stone is understandably upset about the hospital's behavior. And I bet he did not expect to meet his son's girlfriend in this way."

But should I be Jacob's girlfriend?

Chapter 71: Fred

Fred's log, Acting Commander, the Flying Dutchman, 5:03am, Thursday October 28th, 2006.

The Flying Dutchman was flying at speeds usually reserved for missiles.

"Approaching the Eastern Coast."

"Very good, Bob. Prepare descent course."

"Incoming call." Lucy announced.

"What is this," I moaned, "a gossip party line? The next time I take this ship out, I'm getting an unlisted number. On speakers."

"Attention, unidentified flying object. This is General Hambright of NORAD. Identify yourself and prepare to be taken into custody."

I was getting very tired of this.

"This is the Flying Dutchman, Acting Commander Fred Dash speaking. We are on a medical mission and cannot afford distractions. Request denied."

"That was not a request, Dutchman. Under the Patriot Act, we can do whatever we please to vessels we deem a threat to the United States. You will surrender that craft and be taken into custody."

"No. Yellow alert. Raise maximum shields."

"Then under the Patriot Act, I'm ordering your destruction."

Diane shouted in shock. "You can't do that! We're Americans too. We have rights!!"

"Not if I say you don't."

"I see." I said. "Red alert. Battle stations. Arm weapons."

"Incoming! Missiles incoming!! I don't believe they fired on fellow Americans."

Fred sounded somewhat tired of it all. "Joe, take out those missiles."

"Done." The ever helpful computer informed me.

The missiles were struck several thousand feet away from the Dutchman.

They promptly exploded.

"More missiles incoming."

"Joe. Take out the missiles as soon as you get a safe shot. Bob, where are those ships?"

Bob looked at the screens on his console. "I can't get a reading."

"Stealth bombers." Major Stone told us.

I sighed. Here's a lesson for Jacob. Technology never has all the answers.

"I see." I told them. "I guess I'll just have to show you guys a football trick. When the opposing side does something we do not follow, the moment we can see what's going on, we strike. If we fire at the missiles the moment we see them, perhaps we can take out the stealth bombers."

Major Stone moved in front of my command chair. "Hey, they are Americans, too." he objected."

"They are also trying to kill us."

"Give me a chance to deal with it, please."

"Ok. But make them go away, or I will. We have a hospital to get to."

Stone looked at Lucy. "Did that system record NORAD's frequency?"

"I think so."

"Get it back on."

Lucy looked at the controls. Then Bob got up and gave Lucy some help. The frequency came up. "Ready."

Major Stone took a deep breath.

Bob told Major Stone "Relax. According to Jacob, military people tend to respect strength. Right now, you are sitting in the stronger craft.

Stone nods. "Come in, NORAD."

"This is Lieutenant Lewis. Identify yourself."

"This is Major Stone, passenger aboard the Flying Dutchman."

"How the hell did you get on this frequency? This is a top secret channel."

"I know this. Put General Hambright on."

"General Hambright?? Three stars and just as explosive? You want me to get him??"

The teens rolled their eyes at each other.

"Yes Lieutenant. Do it now. That's an order."

Four minutes later, Hambright's pissed voice was heard on the speakers. "Who the hell do you think you are? I'll demote you so low, you'll be saluting dogshit for this." "I doubt it. I'm the only person that can talk my son into letting the military get their hands on this kind of tech."

"Letting??"

"Yeah. Letting. Exactly how many other craft like this do you see? But we are getting away from the main point. I have been told that they have come up with a way to end this attack."

"Yeah, surrender."

"No, sir. The teen in charge is about to order the ship to destroy the missiles the second they leave the stealth bomber. The bombers will no doubt be destroyed along with the missiles."

"They would not dare!"

"You're trying to kill us. Why should we not reply in kind? Stone asked."

"We? You joining them?"

"A few kids on a mercy mission get attacked by their own Air Force. How do you think your kids would respond in their shoes?"

There was silence on the other end. When Hambright spoke, it sounded like he was choking on the words. It was as if he'd rather kill them then admit anything that makes Stone sound right. But in the end, he was honest. "They would have destroyed the bombers and said something rude."