Chapter 27

"Who killed my crew?" I demanded as soon as we exited the chopper at the military base. This time my reception committee was made of FBI, CIA, NSA, and Yosef, all scrambling to have something substantive for me when I returned.

Yosef saw that he was elected and said, "Mr. Vice President. We have a confirmed report that al Qaeda has claimed credit for the attack on Air Force Two and says they did so in retaliation for President Thornton visiting Israel and laying a wreath at Yad Vasham." He let that simmer, because the look in my eyes would have been best described as, 'killing mad.'

He went on. "Yad Vasham is Hebrew, loosely translated it means, 'A Place of Remembering, ' or, 'Memorial Place, ' take your pick. The President laid the wreath to commemorate all those murdered by the Third Reich during World War II.

"Our al Qaeda enemies apparently believe that blowing up the Vice President's plane proves how vulnerable America is to their every whim. They are beating their chests to show that they are not toothless, spineless, or cowardly, as they are being described in the international press after being run out of Somalia.

"Either way, Mr. Vice President, the gentlemen sent here by their bosses at Langley, as well as the FBI, seem terribly afraid you are in imminent danger..."

He was about to continue when Rick put up his hand and handed me the phone. Secretary Stanton wanted to speak with me. "Yes Mr. Secretary," was how I answered his call.

"Mr. Vice President. We are in full crisis mode around here, as you might imagine. The President is perfectly safe, but you are at great risk, and we MUST move you to a safer location.

"Are you ready to be extracted, Sir?"

This had to stop.

"Mr. Secretary. I do not hold you or your department responsible for keeping me 'perfectly safe.' I am perfectly aware that we live in uncertain times, but I will not be managed by a bunch of ragged, psychopaths, out of the middle ages. Al Qaeda will not push me.

"Do you understand, Mr. Secretary?

"I am not hiding. If you wish to beef up my team, be my guest. If you do not, be my guest for that, too. By remaining visible, available, and here, I am telling al Qaeda that they did not hurt America. They blew up a plane. True, it was the plane I ride on, but just the same, they are welcome to come and try again. I am not running scared!" He tried to change my mind until I lost interest, but gave up when I suggested he concern himself with Charles, and let me be the stalking horse for those bastards.

We were driven to the base executive quarters and greeted like royalty by a phalanx of servants, all of whom I sent away except for the chef, who prepared a fine supper for us. After extensive briefings from ... well ... everyone, I called home.

"Hey," I said when Regina answered the phone.

"Oh baby. I am so glad to hear your voice. I was terrified when the news people said your plane blew up, and it seemed like ages until they told us that you were in town and nowhere near the plane when it happened. Are you Ok?" She sounded tired, anxious, sad, and lonely. My heart went out to her, and my hurt was made worse because I couldn't hug her till the fear went away.

"I'm just fine. Mad as hell, but fine. I love you so much and the only thing capable of fixing that is time in your arms, and that is about to happen. I need to come home and take a week off till we have more to go on, and then I'll be tied up hunting down and killing the low life bastards that killed my crew.

"Those medieval lunatics are going to discover the downside of attacking us, and they have no idea what we'll bring when we come for them on judgment day. So – no worries. We'll be together soon and have lots of time to cuddle and talk ... And other stuff..."

She laughed at my tone of voice, because the other stuff got her pregnant to begin with.

Ohhh ... I'm so bad...

I talked with everyone, including Jim and Millie, the babies, even though I did all the talking, except when James screamed. I had sent Benjamin home with Rebecca, but I made sure that I talked to him through the phone.

It made me feel very lonely, especially since I was in a strange house, on a military base, under immense guard. The solitude made me thoughtful, and I let my mind wander the landscape of my four lives - five if you count Carl twice. The trip made me realize how much I had given up and how many times I suffered losses.

I was deep into my pity party when the phone rang. It was the President. "Yes, Mr. President," I said, respectfully.

"John, if you don't learn to use my Christian name, I swear, I'll send Casey to climb on your lap and bat your ears!" We both laughed.

"What can I do for you, Sir?" That got us both laughing again.

"Well, I am 'secure' four-hundred feet below the surface, in a windowless, airless, lightless bunker. In about forty seconds I intend to lose my mind and start screaming. In the meantime I thought I would call and let you know how perfectly you handled your press conference. Our people are raving about your combination of sincerity, fury, death-in-my-eyes, determination, and the threats you threw out there for those rat-bastards. It was a masterpiece, and I thank you for handling things with such a deft hand.

"Have you been out to Ross Perot, excuse me, I meant Fort Worth Alliance Airport, to look things over, yet?"

"No Sir. My staff is concerned we will be in the way, or cause delays getting medical help to those who need it, interfere with the identifying of bodies, and/or get in the way of the fire suppression people. I wanted to be there, but was overruled.

"Would you like me to get out there and fly the flag for you?" That was something constructive I could do while I was doing nothing.

"Yes, John. I would like you to make a bold appearance, be seen, be heard, and be the man that grabs a crisis and manages it into submission.

"Let me know how it went. Jason will be up all night, I suppose, so you can give him an update when you fly back to the base." He rang off, and I went to organize a chopper ride.

Fort Worth Alliance Airport is often referred to as Ross Perot Airport, because he bought up all the land surrounding it, including the four-hundred and eleven acres it sits on, intending to build a mixed use residential and commercial community. The cities and counties let him know that the area needed a reliever airport for DFW and that they would fund the construction of a freeway linking the two.

It is home to a plethora of business jets, as well as all sorts of other aviation activity.

The nine thousand six hundred foot runway was perfect for Air Force Two, which was why the Air Force chose it. The airport is eight, or so miles north of Fort Worth and hugs I-35W, making it easy to get from there to points around either Dallas or Fort Worth. DFW is far too busy, and way too many people would be inconvenienced just because a plane carrying me needed to land, and I insisted we use alternative fields. We would have all preferred a military base, but that doesn't always work out, so Ross Perot – Fort Worth Alliance it was, and trying to alleviate travel woes got a lot of people killed.

My bad...

Marine Two took me straight in and the Secret Service had cleared a place for us to land not too far from the remains of Air Force Two. The destruction was virtually total. You would need an expert aviation scholar to know what type of plane it was, due to the massive explosion and incredible heat from the fire.

Air Force Two carries fifty-two thousand gallons of Jet-A, which all burned up in the conflagration. Scattered around my former ride were fire trucks, military tanks, police cars, FBI and other Federal vehicles, FAA trucks, cars, and vans, as well as ambulances to take away the dead, and a mobile medical unit to treat injuries from the recovery effort.