it didn’t matter that there was no money, since money was worthless anyway. And at least now, he knew who they were.
“Mr. Theodore Fuller, Mrs. Suzie Fuller, I don’t think I’ll be able to find any of your next of kin to let them know what happened to you, but I hope there is some comfort that you didn’t leave this world without someone knowing your names,” Jake said. “I’m sorry your lives ended up like this. On the other hand, you did go out together, and you’ll be together for all eternity now. And truth to tell, with what the rest of us are facing, you may well be the lucky ones.”
Karin reached over and squeezed Jake’s hand.
“You might be right,” she said. “They might be the lucky ones.”
“Come on, the others will be worrying about us. Let’s go see if John and Marcus have found a helicopter we can put back together.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Ozark gate at Fort Rucker was unmanned, but it had been unmanned for several days now. There was, however, still a sign attached to the MP shack that read VISITORS MUST OBTAIN PASS.
After going through the gate they passed several abandoned vehicles, and as they moved farther onto the base, Jake was surprised to see that many of the base housing units were still occupied. But then, as he thought more about it, it wasn’t surprising at all. These houses were home to the married soldiers. Like the houses in Ozark, Enterprise, and Dothan, these houses had no electricity or water, but they did provide shelter. Where else would they go?
One man walking alongside the road saw the blue post sticker on Jake’s windshield indicating that he was an officer and automatically saluted. Just as automatically, Jake returned the man’s salute; then, as he passed, he looked in the mirror as the man continued his long, lonely walk.
“Oh,” Karin said quietly, and glancing toward her, Jake saw a tear sliding down her face. “Where will he go? What will he eat? We are trained to look out for our troops but—oh, Jake, I feel so helpless.”
Jake squeezed her hand again. “We are looking out for six of them,” he said. “That’s a start.”
“They are looking out for us, just as much,” Karin replied.
“That’s true.”
When he turned off Hatch Road onto Hanchey Field Road, Jake felt a sudden twinge of melancholy. So many times over the years of his multiple assignments to “Mother Rucker,” he had made this same turn on the way to log flight time. At first glance Hanchey Field didn’t look too much different from how it always did. More than one hundred helicopters were parked at the huge heliport. However, a closer examination of the helicopters showed that nearly all had been stripped of anything of value. Many were missing rotor blades—others had been stripped clean of sheet metal so that nothing but the skeletal frame remained.
“I don’t know,” Jake said as they drove toward the hangars. “From the looks of things, I’m not sure we can find enough to assemble even one flyable helicopter. Give them a call. We ought to be in range.”
Karin keyed the two-way radio. “Phoenix Base, this is Phoenix One, over.”
There was a moment’s delay; then they heard, “Phoenix One, this is Phoenix Base. Where are you?”
“We’re on the field.”
“Phoenix One, do you remember Dewey Alain and the foam generator?”
Jake smiled, then nodded. “Tell him yes.”
“I remember,” Karin said.
“That’s where we are. Call when you approach. I’ll open the doors and let you in.”
“Phoenix One, out,” Karin said. She looked over at Jake, who was still chuckling. “What is this about the foam generator?”
“We had a hangar fire drill once,” Jake said. “Sergeant Alain was supposed to simulate hitting the big red button that would activate the foam generator and flood the hangar. But he didn’t simulate, he actually did it, and the hangar was filled waist high with foam. It took two days to clean it all up.”
Karin laughed.
“Wait, that’s not the half of it,” he said. “Two weeks later, there was a report of survey done for the damage, and the inspection team wanted to know what happened. Sergeant Alain explained about the fire drill, told them his job was to simulate hitting the foam button. ‘But I didn’t simulate it,’ he said. ‘I actually hit it. ’” Jake laughed. “Then he . . .”
“Don’t tell me, he hit it again?” Karin asked, laughing.
Now Jake was laughing so hard that tears came to his eyes. “If I’m lyin’ I’m dyin’,” he said. “He hit it again.”
Jake started toward the hangar. “That’s the one,” he said.
“Phoenix Base, hit the foam generator.”
“Ha, he told you,” John replied. The hangar door started up, and as they came closer, they saw Marcus pulling the chain to raise the door. As soon as they were inside, the door went back down.
Jake parked his dark gray Volvo next to Clay’s red Liberty. As he exited the car he looked at the Blackhawk helicopter they had selected. At first glance it looked as if he could climb in, light the engine, and pull pitch, but he knew that looks were deceiving. “It looks good,” he said. “What does the logbook say about it?”
John shook his head. “We have no idea. The logbooks are all stored on the mainframe server and with the server down, we have no way of accessing the records.”
“There is something to be said for hard-copy logbooks,” Jake said.
“You got that right. But we are doing a very thorough periodic inspection, so we are finding and correcting all the faults.”
“Do we have any idea as to the total hours?”
“Onboard system says twenty-seven hundred and fifteen hours, but of course, that’s just the airframe. We have no idea of the total hours on the engine, engine components, transmission, or rotor system.”
“There has been a lot of cannibalization on this aircraft,” Marcus added. “Neither engine has a fuel control. Igniters are missing on engine number two. No filters anywhere, engine or transmission. We’re missing a pitch change link on the main rotor.”
“Why would anyone take a pitch change link?” Jake asked. “What on earth would they use it for?”
“Beats me. But we’ve got almost a hundred helicopters to draw from, I’m pretty sure we’ll find one we can use.
“Have any trouble coming in?” Clay asked.
Jake and Karin exchanged looks.
“You did, didn’t you?” Clay said. “What happened ?”
Jake told about their encounter on the road with the two young men who had stopped them.
“There’s going to be a lot more of that,” Clay said. “Especially if anyone finds out how much fuel we have.”
“But we have jet fuel, don’t we? What good would that do in a car?” Karin asked.
“A gasoline engine will not run on jet fuel, but a diesel engine will,” Jake explained.
Clay pointed to his Jeep Liberty. “That will not only run on jet fuel, it is running on jet fuel.”
“I was going to suggest that,” Jake said. “I am just about out of gasoline, so any running around we have to do in the next few days is going to have to be in your vehicle.”
“We could go out to TAC-X,” Clay suggested.
“No, not yet,” Jake said. “We’ll keep that as an emergency supply. There may come a time when we will be in desperate need of it.”
“You’re probably right,” Clay replied.
The others expressed some curiosity in what Jake and Clay were talking about, but none of them asked any questions, and neither Jake nor Clay made any attempt to satisfy their curiosity.
“I need some Kleenex,” John said. “At least six boxes.”
“Six boxes? Wow, you must have some runny nose,” Deon said.
