Operation Prospero [7]
This is what we've waited for/ This is it boys, this is war
A few days later, I found myself called to Portsmouth to meet the Swiss pilots. They had been released from their 'arrest' up in CHANTICLEER and flown down to Portsmouth to meet the King. Despite my being at an airbase, I could afford no such luxury and headed down in convoy. It was a regrettable necessity that an armoured car and a detachment of the RAF Regiment accompanied me, but such was the situation - unguarded movements, civilian or military, were liable to be ambushed and looted - it was up to the discretion of these new highwaymen whether the vehicle's owners made it.
Portsmouth, these days, was not an easy place to enter. As soon as the city became visible, the security was evident. The army was trying to increase the safe perimeter around the place; the roads became thicker with forces traffic the closer we came. We were stopped on three seperate occasions within ten miles of the city limits - even wearing my uniform and with my papers in order, there was a deep reluctance to let anybody in. Behind us, many were being turned away. In front of us, we saw two helicopters orbiting the town; even at Yeovilton, seeing two aircraft up simultaneously was unheard of.
The outskirts of Portsmouth were teeming - the cordon was tight, but it wasn't tight enough. Eight to a room, thirty to a house. Twice, the Fox in front of us was forced to fire her cannon into the sky in order to clear the throngs. The worst was the girls - many of them couldn't have been more than fourteen or fifteen - some of them were still wearing their school uniforms - they threw themselves against our lorries, exposing themselves - we had petrol so we were rich. There was nothing we could do - I resolved to bring it up with the local Police commander, but I doubted he was unaware; it was only one of umpteen problems that this 'blessed city' was facing.
Once we passed the inner cordon, it was as if somebody had flipped a switch. The streets were empty. They were clean. Twice, red-coated horsemen paraded past us. We could have sworn that even the weather was better. We left the Fox behind and proceeded slowly towards the...
*
The Secretary poured the glasses himself, and sat the men down next to a roaring fire. The flickering orange and red threw up the lines in his smile as he began to talk.
'The night it happened, I was in D.C. We'd not slept more than a couple hours since the war started, but there wasn't time to be tired. I was moving from one White House briefing to another with Ronnie - it was the third of the night, I think. Suddenly, the whole building started screaming; for a second, there was absolute still - 'Evacuate the White House' - that's all the robot on the PA said - in an instant, the whole place burst. Two big guys grabbed the big man, took him off his feet - one grabbed me - one of them Israeli Uzis in the other hand. The corridors pased in a blur; it was amazing how fast we could run. I caught things as I ran - Anchorage gone, Thule lost; some of the flyboys were shouting about triggering the SAC and trying to see if Omaha had launched - I'd never seen such chaos.
When we got on to the lawn it was something else. It looked like most of the army were down there - they were shooting at someone, or someone was shooting at us. Before I could ask what happened, the first blast hit downtown. It took a few seconds to realise it must have missed, because we were still alive - thank god we had our heads down, or we'd have been blinded. I saw Ronnie get thrown into a chopper - the last time I saw him - I was on the next one - it landed not twenty seconds later.
From the air, hell just seemed to get worse - the whole place was on fire - the sky burned black and burned red and burned orange. I saw a river of brakelights - the whole city trying to get out. In the sky, too, so many choppers - a swarm of flies around a corpse. It soon would be - we felt the second and third blasts as we hightailed it. For a second, I let myself visualise getting to Cheyenne, being safe, sorting this mess out.
Our chopper caught the blast of some bomb somewhere; I just about made it out, and wound up here.'
The Prospero team have so many questions but they're sitting silent. The Secretary's stopped smiling and he's pouring a second glass. This continues for a full few minutes.
'I'm so glad you're here, boys. We've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow, but you boys get some rest. G'nite'. He shakes their hands, brushes their cheeks.'
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No communications with AL or HI.
God Bless America.
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