Action/Adventure - A genre mix like National Treasure and Indiana Jones
May 22, 2012 – Washington D.C.
Admiral Hightower threw a dog-eared folder down on his immaculate desk and glanced at the young aide standing before him. The Commander was barley into his thirties, ramrod straight, and pure spit and polish. The posture of the officer reminded Hightower of when he himself was a young Commander, full of gusto, excess adrenaline, and ready and willing to go out and whip the world.
“Speak!” Hightower commanded, leaning back into his plush leather chair.
“It’s McMurdo sir.” The Commander looked both frightened and exhilarated at the same time. “Someone destroyed McMurdo Station in Antarctica.” He handed a small sheet of paper to the Admiral.
Admiral Hightower was composed and had absolutely no physical reaction to the devastating news. He waved the Commander off and watched as he executed a perfect exit. Letting the paper drop to his desk, he picked up the phone and punched in several numbers.
“You’ve heard the news?” Hightower asked over the phone. A quick affirmative reply came back to him. “My orders?”
“Your orders are to do nothing,” the President responded. “My staff has already issued a statement to the press. General Jones and his rogue forces are under control. Turn on your television Admiral. Any major news channel will do.”
Admiral Hightower swung around in his chair and opened a large cabinet behind him. He picked up the remote and tuned the set to his favorite news station, CMM News. He leaned back in his chair still holding the phone to his ear. A familiar broadcaster was just starting a flash news report.
“This just came in directly from the White House.” A well-dressed anchorman paused to put on a serious face. “McMurdo Research Station in Antarctica has been destroyed by military forces under the command of a rogue U.S. Army General. General H.H. Jones, former Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, assumed control of a number of this country’s Special Operations Forces with the intent of overthrowing the government of the United States. A U.S. submarine under orders from the General destroyed McMurdo Station with cruise missiles. The reason for this action against an unarmed civilian research center is unclear at this time, however at least 1,200 civilian and military personnel are feared dead in the premeditated attack. It is also known that Special Operations Forces have taken control of a sensitive military base in the continental United States, Kirtland Air Force Base, in New Mexico. These forces are assumed to be under the control of General Jones. No details or film is available yet…”
General Hightower muted the television and returned his attention to the telephone.
“Jones has been blamed for the destruction of the civilian base in Antarctica. This will generate worldwide condemnation of the General. As the new Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, your job is to find Jones and isolate him immediately. He may be useful for a few more days so you must contain him until it is time to terminate him. Have you made any progress on his location?”
“The General is like Francis Marion, the Revolutionary War Swamp Fox. One minute he’s in Florida, the next in Texas. He covers his tracks and leaves false trails for us to follow. He has so many connections with ASA, NSA, and other intelligence agencies, he manages to keep one step ahead of us.”
“Find him!” The president hung up.
“Easy for you to say.” Admiral Hightower glanced at the dead line. He had a good idea where the General might be hiding, but he also knew that to flush him out might involve military action that the public wasn’t yet ready to accept. General Jones was under the protection of highly trained military forces from the Special Operations Command, men he had served with for decades. Each and every one of them were elite Soldiers, Marines, Airmen and Navy personnel who would have to be destroyed before they gave an inch of ground. America wasn’t ready for that yet.
Admiral Hightower punched a button on his intercom. “Is the Secretary of Defense available?” he asked.
“He’s in his office, sir.”
“Tell him I’m on my way to see him.”
It’s his call to make, Hightower thought. I have the capability but he must make the decision.
Meanwhile, at Kirtland Airforce Base in New Mexico, General H.H. Jones was in conference with his top commanders. Jones glanced around the large table at the faces of the men who had volunteered to put their careers and lives on the line. Each was a high ranking officer, primarily generals and admirals. Each also commanded a major unit of America’s Special Operations Forces; the Army’s Rangers, Paratroopers, Special Forces, DELTA; Force Recon units from the Marine Corps, Air Force Special Operations, Navy SEALS, even Navy Submarine Forces.
General Jones was a forty-year veteran of the military. As a young man he served in Vietnam with a Long-Range Reconnaissance Team and even rode combat motorcycles with that unit. Highly decorated, he went on to West Point and established an envious and lengthy career. His full name was Harley Hank Jones, but he preferred to be simply called Hank. He often remarked that his Harley days were well behind him, referring to his love of motorcycles.
“Let’s cut through the bull shit,” Jones stated, forcing the faces to leave the television anchorman and concentrate on him. “We all know this is a pile of horse apple propaganda being force fed to the public. We have undisputed proof that McMurdo was destroyed by the Nazis. The NSA copy of the Australian newscaster’s video and audio broadcast is sufficient in itself, unless we Special Operations people have suddenly invented flying saucers, that is. Who knows, maybe we’ll get blamed for hobnobbing with little green men too.”
The faces around the table relaxed a bit as he continued.
“We have Doctor McKenzy’s report, along with a detailed report from Doctor Monday Stiehl on the events leading up to this horror. We also have a list of our government representatives who are members of this Brotherhood organization. While the list is short, the people on it are in positions to do a lot of damage to our country before they can be terminated. I’m talking about the President, the Secretary of Defense, the Speaker of the House, and many other top echelon traitors.”
“We are only a small part of the military power of the United States,” an Army General noted. “They have overwhelming force they can use to eliminate us. All the President needs to do is give the command.”
“I doubt that he will give the command to destroy literally thousands of America’s best young fighting men and women. Americans would not stand for it. All he needs to do is to keep us contained until his Nazi friends have taken their pound of flesh, then surrender. We can’t allow him to do that, gentlemen. We’ve got to inform the public, get them to believe it, and hit back hard!”
A female officer on the left side of the table stood. “What about the most serious threat?”
General Jones knew exactly what she was referring to, all of them did. “We are waiting for information from Doctor Stiehl on that situation. The Nazis created and have control of the Earth Crust Displacement but from what I understand, the focal point is thirty miles beneath Antarctica. There’s no way in hell we can reach them without help from those, peace loving Arianni he mentioned.”
“I understand that the Secret Service is still holding the families of Doctor Stiehl’s old Special Forces Team,” the female officer stated. “Will that have any impact on their ability or desire to join us?”
“If you knew Special Forces people like I do, you wouldn’t even have asked that question.” General Jones glared back at her. “But for your edification, the Team has already completed one desperate mission to thwart the Brotherhood, knowing very well that the lives of their loved ones was on the line. As far as we know, the families are still being held hostage.”
The female officer quickly resumed her seat.
“Need I remind you gentlemen, our country is not the only one threatened by the Nazis and the Brotherhood. We have with us Special Forces from Great Britain, Germany and France. Their governments have also been compromised by members of the Brotherhood.”
“Général Dorbec is a member of Doctor Stiehl’s Team,” a French General commented. We are committed to fight this new threat regardless of the cost. You can count on the Forces Spéciales Françaises.”
“Thank you General. I also know we can count on out British SAS personnel and the German BesondereKräfte. But, it will not be easy going for us. We are presently outlaws and any day the order may come down to terminate us. So, we must act fast and we must act decisively.”
A messenger rushed in to whisper something in General Jones’ ear, interrupting the meeting. General Jones looked puzzled for a moment then smiled.
“It appears that a flying saucer has landed out in the parking lot the little green men want to talk to us.”