Enemy forces were now taking some prisoners and using them as hostages. Before that, they were just killing the civilians, but after the push, they realized the importance of them.
The demand for President Williams to step down was denied.
A lone survivor escaping the occupied territory was able to provide the pentagon with information that allowed American forces to initiate a massive strike on the enemy’s main Base of Operations. This strike sent them scurrying and the ‘push’ had begun.
The largest ground and air battle in history began….and it began on America’s own soil.
400,000 American and Allied troops along with fifteen thousand airplanes hit the enemy hard.
The initial the strike by the invaders had brought America to her knees and they seized the opportunity to take the northeastern part of the country. The enemy forces occupied and controlled territory from Portland, Maine to Delaware and as far to the east as Reading, Pennsylvania and Bingham, New York.
But seven days after the initial strike, the occupied territory was limited to Massachusetts, Connecticut and parts of New Jersey.
Like a pimple, the enemy was being squeezed.
The facts and statistics reported by the newscaster were bad. However, the worst part was the statement read at the end in which Americans were told, “When, not if, America reclaims her land, Pentagon officials are telling Americans to brace themselves. The war is far from over.”
It was going to get worse.
What could be worse than an invasion of America?
Linda realized it was the start of the next World War.
And this one, she feared, wasn’t going to end with parades in the streets.
This new World War would not end until people finally said, “Enough is enough. Enough people have died.”
Many already had died.
Many more would.
Linda prayed every single day that her mother wasn’t one of those who lost her life in a war that would never have a happy ending.
To say she was worried about her husband was an understatement. But Lana was proud of him. Ben had not only stayed behind, but had been helping out. Now he had chosen to go with the group to search for the fallen plane.
He claimed the inability to leave was the only reason for his actions, but she felt it was more than that. She felt deep inside that he had remained there for her and for the cause.
She took the watch position on the hardware store roof and waited. She could see the smoke from the aircraft in the distance. It couldn’t have been more than a mile or so away.
Her main focus had been on the smoke until she looked up at the sky beyond the wreckage.
Lowering the binoculars, she lifted the radio. “This is Scout 3.”
“Got you, Scout 3.”
“Northwest, airborne, attack dogs.”
“Same direction as our people?”
“Roger. Keep it secure in case the dogs roll in.”
Then Lana lowered the radio and again peered through the binoculars, hoping that Ben and Rick would get to the downed plane before the enemy.
Ben knew it was coming. He could see them in the sky, like vouchers looking for food.
He could also see the plane wreckage in the field. The smoke was the telltale sign for them as well as a calling card for the Ranuelans.
Rick saw the parachute in the high weeds about two hundred feet from the wreckage. He pointed it out to Ben.
“The pilot can’t be far,” Ben said. “He’s got to be in those weeds somewhere.”
Rick must have felt or seen it coming because he suddenly made a strong turn of the wheel and veered off the road just as bullets ripped by them. He drove over the embankment and struggled to stop the truck before it hit anything.
He had both feet on the brakes and fought the steering wheel as they careened wildly down the embankment. But despite his efforts, the bed of the truck slammed into a tree.
“You okay?” Rick asked.
Ben nodded and opened the truck door. He assessed the damage to the truck. It was still drivable, but just getting out of there would be tight. They’d worry about that later. First they had to get to the pilot.
Both men hurried toward the road in a low crawl. They had to cross the two lane highway in order to get to the field.
The sky briefly looked clear; the planes were probably making another circle. Using the opportunity of the clear window, both Ben and Rick charged across the road and into the field.
“We’re Americans!” Ben called loudly. “We saw you go down! Are you hurt?”
Nothing.
The weeds and foliage came to their chest, keeping them somewhat hidden.
“I radioed for help!” a male voice called. “I’m injured. Stay down.”
Rick pointed to the left. He had locked in on the voice. Together they began a crouching run in that direction.
Ben could see him not far away, and then he heard the jet engines.
The sound of rapid fire rang out, ripping through the fields. In an open and vulnerable position, Ben did the only thing he could do. He dropped down and covered his head.
The bullets missed him by inches and he turned to check on Rick.
Rick exhaled with a relieved whistle and said, “That was close.”
