The questioning continued for nearly an hour.
When all had been asked and answered, Colonel Morrison turned to Colonel Hoerner.
“What your team’s presented today is extremely interesting. Let us talk among ourselves before we go any further. But I think I can tell you with some degree of certainty that we’ll be passing your idea on to the Pentagon quite soon.”
• • •
General Yovanovich’s plan for the conquest of Germany had been a good one. For the moment, it was very much on schedule. It appeared to all the world that the Russians would seize every inch of German soil in the five days he’d predicted.
He’d surprised the ill-prepared Allies with the fierce winter attack. His deception had worked. He’d hammered their command and control, even if he’d come up short on his promise to completely destroy it. For the most part, his sabotage had succeeded. Now the Russians’ overwhelming power was in the forefront as they continued to push the reeling Allies back.
But his plan had a potentially fatal flaw, one the dashing general had no ability to recognize. He hadn’t accounted for George O’Neill. Or the untold numbers just like him in the American military. He’d failed to identify them and the potential influence they’d have on the war because no one even close to them existed in the rigid, top-down Russian military. No sergeant would have ever had the opportunity O’Neill was given to present such a complex plan to his generals.
As the war continued on its furious journey, the shy sergeant had provided the Americans an opening they could potentially exploit.
The only question remaining was whether or not they’d be bold enough to seize it.
CHAPTER 52
January 31—6:15 a.m. (Eastern Standard Time)
World News Network Studios
Boston
The expression on Bonnie Lloyd’s face never changed as she read from the TelePrompTer. “Repeating our top story this hour. The American aircraft carrier George Washington has been sunk. For more on this story, we take you to WNN’s Pentagon correspondent, Patricia Moore.”
The picture switched to another of the well-known WNN faces standing in her customary position in the foyer of the Pentagon.
“Thanks, Bonnie. Pentagon sources officially announced a few minutes ago that the aircraft carrier George Washington was sunk this morning four hundred miles west of the Azores. From what we’ve gathered, the attack occurred approximately three hours ago as the ship was on the way from its home base in Norfolk, Virginia, to support the American air forces in Germany.”
The screen split to show both women’s faces. “Patricia, have any details been released on what caused the sinking?” Lloyd asked.
“So far, Pentagon officials have provided little concrete information. We do know the George Washington was being supported by a screening force of destroyers and cruisers. WNN has been told unofficially that Russian submarines apparently slipped through the escort squadron and fired up to nine torpedoes. The carrier was struck multiple times.”
“Has the Pentagon given out any casualty figures from the loss of the ship?”
“My sources tell me, Bonnie, that the George Washington was carrying nearly six thousand men and women. Rumors are saying most of the torpedoes hit the ship within seconds of each other. There was extensive damage. The giant ship sank ten minutes after the surprise attack. While exact figures aren’t available, it appears the escorts were able to rescue approximately eight hundred sailors from the dying aircraft carrier. Apparently, the winter seas were quite stormy, and in addition to those killed on board, hundreds of sailors drowned before help could reach them.”
“So,” Bonnie Lloyd said, “what you’re saying is that the number of dead from the sinking of the George Washington is approximately fifty-two hundred?”
“That would be about right, Bonnie.”
“What effect will the loss of the George Washington have on the war? Has the Pentagon said anything about that?”
“Naturally, the Pentagon’s declined to answer such questions. We do believe, however, from what we’ve been told about the general location of our other naval fleets at the beginning of the war, that no other carriers are in a position to come to the aid of the NATO forces for at least another week. That, of course, is purely speculation on the press corps’ part. It’s not something that has been, or is likely to be, confirmed by the military.”
“Thank you, Patricia.”
The screen returned to a single image of Bonnie Lloyd sitting at the anchor desk.
“Repeating this hour’s top story. The American aircraft carrier George Washington has been sunk four hundred miles west of the Azores. Loss of life is put at over five thousand. We’ll have more on this story as further details become available. After these messages, we’ll be back with more late-breaking reports from our correspondents Jim Haney in London and Russell Reese in Frankfurt.”
The image on the screen switched to the picture of the American and Soviet flags clashing, with the words THE BATTLE FOR GERMANY running across the bottom of the screen. The war’s theme music blared.
In a few seconds, the picture changed to a sleepy man in striped pajamas staring into a mirror while holding a bottle of mouthwash.
CHAPTER 53
January 31—5:15 p.m.
217th Mobile Army Surgical Hospital
Stuttgart Army Air Field
The medics lifted Kathy’s stretcher from the ambulance. They carried it toward the rear of the C-17 medevac plane. The early-evening winds kicked up. They blew the blustery night’s first hint of bitterness at the helpless figure wrapped in woolen blankets. The quick winds scattered the low-lying clouds. They revealed a haunting moon, a yellow hue distorting its glow. A handful of twinkling stars were etched on the horizon.
The medical evacuation plane’s jet engines were already running. The C-17 sat on the exact spot her husband’s plane had waited to take on its load of passengers sixty hours earlier. A nurse held Christopher’s hand as the child struggled to walk next to his mother. His stubby legs fought to keep up with the stretcher. Christopher stumbled and fell in the patchy gray snows at the edge of the runway. Tears flowed from his eyes. A wail of protest filled the air. The nurse scooped him up, and, none the worse for wear, the toddler entered the aircraft behind his mother’s stretcher.
The medics moved down the left aisle, past the rows of partially filled positions. They stopped near the front of the plane. The airmen carefully transferred Kathy onto one of the medevac’s permanent positions. The tubes and bottles that accompanied the C-17’s latest passenger were attached to the specially designed fuselage. After a quick check of their efforts, the medics returned to the cold to retrieve their next patient.
The nurse took the reluctant child to one of the passenger seats at the front of the aircraft. She buckled him in. While they waited for the medevac to fill, Christopher turned toward Kathy. Never once did he look away from his mother. The love in his eyes overwhelmed her. Through her pain, a smile filled Kathy’s battered face. Tears of relief soon followed. Huge teardrops flowed. The knowledge that she and her child were taking a giant step out of the nightmare overwhelmed her.
For twenty minutes, ambulances unloaded their human cargo onto the flying hospital. Every stretcher position was filled. Behind them, thousands more, both injured and healthy, waited on the numbing ground for their turn to come.
The rear ramp closed. As the aircraft taxied onto the runway, the nurses and medics made final preparations for the long flight home. Over the suffering around her, Kathy could hear the sound of the revving engines.
The C-17 with the red crosses on its fuselage hurtled down the runway and took to the skies. In eight hours, the medevac would arrive in Dover, Delaware.
• • •
At the same moment, one hundred miles north at Rhein-Main, another aircraft was preparing to leave the g
round. The aging 767 with the giant eagle on its tail and the words EARLY EAGLE AIRLINES beneath the ferocious bird of prey waited for the final handful of passengers to make their way across the tarmac.
In the pilot’s chair, Evan Cooper surveyed the damage on the ground below. The burned remains of the fierce battle two days earlier were evident everywhere he looked.
The war continued to be a financial godsend for Cooper. A broad grin was plastered on his features while he waited for the boarding process to be completed. From his previous combat experiences, however, he understood that war was nothing to be celebrated. And such knowledge tempered his euphoria. Still, he knew that if he could keep the old plane flying for three more days, his financial problems would be over. Three more days of flights to Germany, and he’d be in a position to ask the court to terminate his bankruptcy. Early Eagle Airlines would be his once more. For the first time in a long time, he, not the lawyers, would be deciding how to run his one-plane airline.