“Yes, sir,” she replies.
“Fort Bragg?”
“Yes, sir.”
“So… Airborne?”
“All the way, sir,” she responds.
I tell Reynolds an abbreviated version of our story and current situation. “You and the others are welcome to join us if you’d like. I know we’d certainly appreciate the addition of your experience and expertise,” I say, concluding.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll talk it over with the others, but I seriously don’t think anyone will object to coming.”
“Jack, can I talk to you?” Greg asks from the hatch.
I rise slowly — my legs sore from crouching for so long. My knees give two loud cracks as I stand and I head outside with Greg.
“I’m guessing this is a discussion on our plans?” I say.
“Yeah. I’ve had a couple of the soldiers, whose families we still have to search for, come up and ask about our plans now…you know, with Robert being injured and all,” Greg answers. “I want to tell you that they all, to a person, understand if we have to head back, but they also want some assurance that we’ll continue the search at the earliest opportunity.”
“I’ll talk to them,” I say, wearily.
I gather the remaining soldiers to the side.
“I want to, first of all, thank you for your understanding. And, I want to assure you that we’ll be heading out at the soonest possible moment to continue our search,” I state.
“How long do you think that will be, sir?” one of the soldiers asks.
“As soon as possible isn’t very clear, I understand that. We have a full load of people to take back, aside from the fact that Robert is injured, but we’ll come back out. At worst, Craig has some skills flying the aircraft and we can train the other pilot to be his co-pilot. Gonzalez and McCafferty know the systems fairly well and can act as flight engineers. That’s really the best answer I can give you right now,” I reply.
“That’s good enough for me, sir,” the soldier says.
“Could we just drive out from here, sir?” another soldier asks. “I mean, it will create some room in the aircraft for the others and we won’t lose any more time looking for our families.”
“That would mean you’d only have one team out. I’m not comfortable having you out with so few numbers,” I answer.
“We’d have the Stryker. That more than makes up for the loss of firepower,” he continues.
“I’ll think on it and let you know before we leave. I understand your situation. Believe me, I do. Understand that we can’t afford to lose anyone, but, I understand what you’re going through so let me think on it for a little bit. Fair?” I ask.
“Fair enough, sir.”
I leave the group and chat with Greg about their desire to continue on with the Stryker.
“And I suppose you want me to lead them?” he asks.
“No. That’s not what I’m saying at all, Greg. That’s your decision to make and I won’t ask you to do it. I don’t like having only one team out on their own, whether you’re there or not. But, we do owe them a search and time is running out,” I say.
“You know I’ll do it. But, Jack, I want a week at the beach with cocktails delivered by scantily dressed… well…the week off when I return will be fine.”
“Done. I can give you your week. I want to you to come up with a timetable of your route before we leave. When I’m sure that Robert will be okay, I’ll be back with the aircraft to pick you up. We apparently don’t have satellite comms anymore so we’ll have to stick with a schedule.”
“Okay. Let me get a map and plot it out. You know, if we have to travel the entire distance on the ground, it’s going to take us about week and a half,” he states.
“I know. I don’t like it. I’m still not sure about the whole deal.”
“Well, I have to admit that I’m not overly happy with it, but let’s just get it done. The soldiers are anxious to learn what they can. We owe them that.”
“Okay. Let’s go over the route while it’s still night. We’ll be leaving at first light. And, Greg…thanks.”
“Just remember…you owe me one.”
The night passes ever so slowly — far too slow for my liking. The kids nestle inside as best as they can and sleep for the most part. The teams trade off watches and try to rest on the hard pavement near the Stryker with mixed results. Some people can sleep anywhere while others toss and turn all night. Greg and I plan his route. Eventually, the horizon lightens and we rouse ourselves. Sets of tired, red eyes trudge inside and we are soon heading down the road back to the base.
Returning to the airbase just as the first rays of light streak across from the horizon, it is a much changed scene than the one we were presented with last night. The only evidence that the night runners were here are a couple of the grills knocked askew and some of our gear strewn about. The ramp of the 130 lies open, its end resting on the tarmac. Pulling up near the rear of the aircraft, we disembark.
The interior is cast in radiant light relieving any fears that night runners might have decided the aircraft would make a nice lair. The kids look on the tall aircraft with wonder, many pointing and signing. One of the doors of the tanker aircraft pops open and a ladder drops down. Harkins, along with several of his group and some of ours, descend. Several other doors in other aircraft open and soon, the entire contingent is on the ground. They immediately begin offloading their gear.
I send Red Team, minus Robert, out to locate a fuel truck and return. We weren’t able to refuel at our last stop and, although we have plenty to make it home, there’s nothing like a full load of gas. There are three things that are absolutely useless in flight; the sky above you, the runway behind you, and fuel on the ground.
Standing with Robert near the Stryker watching the ramp swarm with activity, a few other aviation sayings that I’ve picked up along the way enter my tired thoughts…gravity never loses — the best you can hope for is a draw. And given that most things in aviation come in threes, there are the three most common expressions used in the cockpit — Why is it doing that? Where are we? and, Oh Shit!
There are a ton of axioms and for some reason, my mind cycles through a few of them:
1. Every takeoff is optional. Every landing is mandatory.
2. The only time you have too much fuel is when you’re on fire.
3. Learn from the mistakes of others. You won’t live long enough to make all of them yourself.
4. Never let an aircraft take you somewhere your brain didn’t get to five minutes earlier.
5. Always try to keep the number of landings you make equal to the number of take offs you’ve made.
6. There are three simple rules for making a smooth landing. Unfortunately no one knows what they are.
7. If all you can see out of the window is ground that’s going round and round and all you can hear is commotion coming from the passenger compartment, things are not at all as they should be.
“Is there anyone home?” Robert asks, drawing me out of my thoughts.
“Huh… oh yeah. How’s the leg feeling?” I ask.
“It’s fine, Dad. Are you going to ask me that every five minutes?” he says.
“Probably. But you know this isn’t shit to mess around with. You’ve seen what can happen so I’ll stop asking…maybe…if you promise to tell me the moment you don’t feel right.”
“I will. I have a slight headache, but that’s only because of the long night and lack of sleep,” he says.
“Okay. Let me take one more look at it and put another fresh bandage and antibiotics on it.”
I kneel and take a look at his leg. Peeling back the bandage, I see it still has a little redness around the breaks in the skin, but it actually seems to be better than it was a few hours ago. I’m still carrying a tremendous amount of tension which most likely won’t fully go away until the wound heals and several weeks have passed. However, what I see relieves a little of the stress. The scratch I had never healed like Robert’s appears to be doing. I put on a fresh powdering of the crushed pills and have him take another.
“If you’re feeling up to it, let’s go plan our flight back while the others load their gear. I want to fuel up and be out of here within the next couple of hours,” I say.
While I still have the anxiety to get him home, it has dissipated to a small degree. The panic I felt initially is
