Red Hammer 1994

Thomas stopped the interrogation. The major had better things to do than shoot the shit with some hobbled air force general. Although the requirement for a personal bodyguard grated on his sensibility, he couldn’t have picked a better man. He was sure the others out there in the darkness were of the same caliber.

A sudden roar filled the forest; a chorus of military vehicles reverberated through the trees. The major’s radio crackled to life. A Ranger monitoring the approach road announced the composition of the approaching troops. Benton ordered his men to fall back. Within thirty seconds, ghostly figures drifted from the woods, quickly setting up for an ambush, if such were required. Two M-60 machine-gun teams covered the approach while three men with AT-4s spread out behind. The rest lay flat on their stomachs, rifles ready.

A foreign call sign floated out of the radio. Benton clicked his penlight over a pad of paper with scribbled codes. Partially satisfied, he answered with a code challenge that was properly authenticated by the strangers on the other end. He looked up.

“Our ride’s here, General.” Benton got to his feet and strode into the clearing. Headlights came around the bend, bathing the major in a flickering glow that eerily cast a shadow. His M-4A was pointed directly at the lights as a precaution. If it wasn’t who he thought it was, he wouldn’t have a chance. The lead vehicle screeched to a halt. It was a Humvee, the military’s all-purpose vehicle, followed by a second and then a pair of two-and-a-half-ton trucks. All sat idling, the racket tearing at the still night.

A bird colonel, as evidenced by the shiny eagles on each collar, exited the cab. Benton stationed himself between Thomas and the men spilling out of the vehicles.

“We’re here for General Thomas,” announced the colonel loudly over the diesel engine’s racket. Benton let him approach. Thomas had made it to his feet, limping slightly, determined to appear whole. The colonel recognized the officer moving his way.

“General Thomas?” he asked, saluting.

Thomas saluted in reply. “That’s right.”

“I’m to take you, the major, and his men to our camp. We’ll get further instructions there.”

Benton turned to Thomas and raised his eyebrows. Thomas nodded the OK.

“Saddle up,” Benton barked to his men. “I’ll ride with you, General.” He held out an arm and guided Thomas to the Humvee. The Rangers piled into the two and a half tons, while Benton and Thomas rode in the backseat of the lead Humvee. With everyone on board, the lead driver spun a U-turn and headed down the first of a series of back roads that would eventually break out onto a state highway for the final approach to the camp.

“We’re sitting ducks,” observed Benton with a twinge of disgust. It obviously wasn’t the way he would have done it. He had already lost many good men earlier tonight.

“We’ve cleared the route,” answered the colonel defensively for Thomas’s benefit. Thomas started to open his mouth, wondering whether the speaker had taken the oath and where he was. He thought better and said nothing. This wasn’t the time or place.

After nearly an hour of winding roads, the Humvee pulled up to a checkpoint with a sandbagged machine-gun emplacement to one side. Daylight was beginning to break. Three soldiers approached, peered in, and then waved the trucks past. Another four hundred yards brought them to a bustling tent complex. The driver stopped at the largest of the tents. A gaggle of officers surged forward and crowded Thomas as he slowly exited. They backed up when Benton crawled out, his M-4A hanging loosely at his side. A brigadier general with silver stars spoke and saluted for the group.

“General Lockstetter, sir, Forces Command J5. I’ve been instructed to keep you here until 0630. Then we’ll escort you to the president.”

That word was what Thomas had wanted to hear.

“Sorry we can’t take you there immediately, but security has to be established. General Hargesty’s orders.”

“I understand.” General Hargesty was the commandant of the marine corps.

Thomas surveyed the noisy and chaotic camp. If this place didn’t attract attention, he didn’t know what would. But maybe that was the point.

“In the meantime, General, we have a tent where you can rest.” Thomas nodded. It was an appealing thought. He doubted he could sleep, but it was certainly worth a try. Morning was already on the way.

“Major, why don’t you get your men some chow? And some sleep,” said Thomas. “Can that be arranged, General?” he asked the brigadier. It wasn’t really a question.

The brigadier straightened. “Certainly, sir.”

Benton almost smiled. “Two of my men will be outside your tent at all times, General Thomas, and others nearby.” The Ranger wasn’t about to leave his charge to amateurs.