the tarp to disclose nineteen barrels. The top of each barrel bore the broken lettered stenciling, in yellow.
GASOLINE, AUTOMOTIVE COMBAT MIL–G–3056
FOR USE IN ALL MOBILE AND STATIONARY SPARK-IGNITION ENGINES
“John, we have just struck gold!” Jake said, happily. “Let’s get them loaded.
The first thing they did was get rid of the gas generator that had brought them up here; then they put gasoline into the truck. They did that by rolling one of the barrels up into the bed of the truck, then using a hose to siphon gas from the barrel and let it flow into the gas tank. It worked well, though it was much slower than it would have been at a normal gas pump.
When the truck was fueled, they rolled the remaining drums onto the back of the truck. There was only room to get fifteen barrels loaded so, reluctantly, they left four barrels behind, including the one they had drawn the fuel from for the truck. John started to put the tarp back over the remaining barrels, but Jake stopped him.
“We might be better off spreading that tarp over our load,” he said. “If somebody sees us driving a truck with all these barrels, that would be like having a big sign that says, ‘We have gas, please take it from us.’”
“Yeah,” John said. “I see what you mean.”
“The problem is going to be holding the tarp down,” Jake said.
“Not a problem,” John insisted. “We’ll tie it down with safety wire.”
“Where are we going to get safety wire?”
“I’ll show you,” John said. He walked over to the hangar wall, then stuck his hand down behind the cross brace, and pulled out a spool of safety wire.
“Damn, how did you know it would be there?” Jake asked.
John laughed. “Before they closed this stagefield I came out here to do some first-echelon maintenance. I hid the safety wire there so that if I came out to do any more maintenance I would have it. But they closed this field and I never came back.”
“That was against regs, wasn’t it? Wasn’t the safety wire supposed to be returned?” Jake asked.
“So, take a stripe from me,” John said, and both men laughed.
With the safety wire it was easy to secure the tarpaulin, so within twenty minutes they left, locking both the hangar and the gate behind them.
They made it all the way back to Fort Morgan Road before they ran into trouble. John was driving, and he stopped when they saw that the road in front of them was blocked off by a pile of old refrigerators. There were at least ten men sitting on top or standing on the ground around the blockade. All were armed.
“Oh, oh,” John said. “That doesn’t look good.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Jake replied.
“What do we do?”
“Nothing for the moment. They aren’t mobile—we are.”
“A lot of good that does us. This is the only road. We’re blocked here.”
“I wonder how far we are from Fort Morgan,” Jake said.
“That mileage marker says seven,” John said.
“Let’s see if we can raise Deon and Willie. It’ll be a long hike for them, but if they come up behind the blockade, we might be able to force our way through.”
Jake cranked in some power to the radio, then picked up the mic.
“Phoenix Base, this is Phoenix One, do you copy?”
“Phoenix One, this is Phoenix Base, over.”
Jake recognized Karin’s voice.
“Phoenix, we’ve run into a little trouble here. We are at the seven-mile marker on Fort Morgan Road. There is a barrier across the road in front of us, as well as several armed men.”
“Are you in danger?” Karin asked, and Jake could hear the concern in her voice.
“Not immediate danger,” Jake replied. “We are mobile and they aren’t. The problem is, we can’t get through. We may need a little backup.”
“Phoenix One, what do you propose?” This was Deon’s voice.
“It’ll be a long hike for you, but maybe if you came up from behind, put pressure on them, we could get through here.”
“Will do. Out.”
Jake put the microphone down and continued to stare through the windshield at the barrier in front of them.
“What do we do now?” John asked.
“We wait.”
“Marcus, Willie, grab a weapon. We have a long hike in front of us,” Deon said. Deon picked up the M-240 machine gun.
“You don’t have to hike,” James said. “We have plenty of bicycles down here.”
“Yeah, that’s right, you do, don’t you?” Deon said.
“You can ride a bike if you want to,” Bob said. He was looking at the Huey. “Or, we could bring some heavy firepower down on them.”
“What do you mean?” Deon asked.
Bob pointed to the helicopter. “Marcus, when you left Hanchey Field, did you have a full load of fuel?”
“Yes, sir,” Marcus replied.
“You flew straight here, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
Bob smiled. “Then you’ve got at least a hundred and fifty miles’ operating range remaining,” he said.
“What are you thinking, Mr. Varney?” Deon asked.
“Didn’t you tell me your dad was a door gunner in Vietnam?” Bob replied.
“Yes, sir, he was. He was with the sixty-eighth.”
Bob nodded. “Sixty-eighth? Ahh, Top Tiger,” he said. “Good outfit. How would you like to be a door gunner?”
“Wait a minute, are you saying you are going to try and fly that thing?” Marcus asked.
“I’m not going to try, I’m going to do it,” Bob said.
“Oh, Bob, no!” Ellen said. “You haven’t flown in almost forty years!”
“I hadn’t ridden a bike in a longer time than that, but first time I got on one down here, I was able to ride, wasn’t I?”
“That’s not the same thing and you know it,” Ellen said.
“Sure it is. The only difference is, I have a hell of a lot more time in one of these than I ever did on a bicycle. What about it, guys? You want to try it?” Bob asked.
A huge smile spread across Deon’s face. “Hell yes,” he said. “Let’s go!”
Deon and Willie began putting their weapons in the helicopter while Marcus untied the blade. Bob did a walk-around pre-flight inspection, and as he climbed up onto the deck to examine the rotor head, it was as if he had done this just yesterday. He took another look at the jury-rigged drag brace; then he jumped down and started to get in.
“Wait a minute,” Jerry said. “I’m going too.” Jerry was carrying a bow and a quiver of arrows.
Willie laughed. “Do you plan to scalp them too?” Marcus laughed as well, but Deon held out his hand. “No, wait,” he said. “I’ve got an idea. Wait here for a moment.”
Deon jumped out of the helicopter and ran into the nearby casement. When he came back he was carrying something.
“I’ll be damned,” Marcus said. “That’s a good idea.”
“What’s a good idea?” Willie asked. “What are you talking about?”
“That’s C-four,” Marcus said.
Deon got back into the helicopter. “Hand me a few of your arrows,” he said.
