Read Online The Remnant: On The Brink of Armageddon by Tim Lahaye, Jerry B. Jenkins - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tim Lahaye, Jerry B. Jenkins
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understand.
Chang grimaced as he listened to the recording of Akbar trying to convince the fliers that he had asked for injections to help calm them. Both began scuffling and shouting, and Chang could tell they were held down and given the shots. And now they were gone. Anyone who had seen either of them land in New Babylon and make their way from the hangar to the palace and to Akbar’s office would never admit it or mention it.
They had been shot down by the enemy, and that was that. Chang checked on the planes again. Already their serial numbers had been changed. And the original numbers were marked as lost in action. Somehow the total number of operative GC fighter-bombers in New Babylon did not change. The story that had scrolled across Chang’s screen would broadcast around the world that night.
No doubt Carpathia himself would express abject personal sorrow over the losses. Chang checked the records in. Greece and found that Nelson Stefanich had forwarded location coordinates to Howie Johnson’s team. It was a couple of hours yet till nightfall, when Mac planned to pay the visit. Chang had time to confirm Mac’s instructions to the crew at the Ptolemas airport to refuel the Rooster Tail and entered into the computer that Senior Commander Johnson had been cleared at the highest levels to fly it to New Babylon. That done, Chang found Stefanich’s cell phone number and called it in to Mac. Got everything else you need?
Chang said. Well, I’d still like to know the disposition of the Oh, I will. Hey, Chang? Sir? Who’s better than you? Thank you, sir. Finally, Chang was able to check his other recordings from throughout the day. He located the one emanating from Carpathia’s office and backed up to several minutes before Nicolae, his secretary Krystall, Leon Fortunato, Suhail Akbar, and Viv Ivins sat watching the feed from the cockpit of the initial fighter-bomber. Suhail had just told the potentate he had arranged for him to watch live, and Carpathia had expressed excited anticipation. Chang sped through several minutes of setup and of Nicolae welcoming the various ones into the room. Then, pay dirt. Akbar informed Carpathia that the fighter-bombers were set for takeoff from Amman, and that he could bring that up on the monitor, if you wi sh.
If I wish? Please! Palace to Amman Command, Suhail said. Amman. Go ahead, Palace. Initiate visual coverage of takeoff. Roger that. Several seconds of silence. Then Carpathia. Suhail, these are fighter-bombers? Is it an optical illusion? They look huge. Oh, they are, Eminence. They have been in service only a few weeks.
Notice how high they sit off the ground. The gear is the tallest of any fighter ever. It has That is the bomb, underneath? Yes, sir. Talk about huge. It looks massive! Way too big to be carried internally, sir. It’s four and a half feet in diameter and eleven feet long. The thing weighs fifteen thousand pounds. You do not say! Oh, yes, sir. It’s carried on what we call an underbelly centerline station.
And what is it, Suhail? What are we serving the enemy today? The Americans used to call these Big Blue 82s. They are concussion bombs. Eighty percent of their weight is made up of a gel consisting of polystyrene, ammonium nitrate, and powdered aluminum. Is it as powerful as it is large? Excellency, Suhail said, nothing but a nuclear weapon would be more so. These are designed to detonate just a few feet off the ground and generate a thousand pounds of pressure per square inch. It should kill everything even the little creatures below the ground in an area as large as two thousand acres. The mushroom cloud alone will rise more than a mile. And we’re dropping two. Plus a missile. Yes, sir.
Fire? Oh, Your Highness, that’s the best part. Each concussion bomb creates a fireball six thousand feet in Chang recoiled at a loud hiss, and he imagined a nearly overcome Carpathia inhaling deeply through his nose and
Chang grimaced as he listened to the recording of Akbar trying to convince the fliers that he had asked for injections to help calm them. Both began scuffling and shouting, and Chang could tell they were held down and given the shots. And now they were gone. Anyone who had seen either of them land in New Babylon and make their way from the hangar to the palace and to Akbar’s office would never admit it or mention it.
They had been shot down by the enemy, and that was that. Chang checked on the planes again. Already their serial numbers had been changed. And the original numbers were marked as lost in action. Somehow the total number of operative GC fighter-bombers in New Babylon did not change. The story that had scrolled across Chang’s screen would broadcast around the world that night.
No doubt Carpathia himself would express abject personal sorrow over the losses. Chang checked the records in. Greece and found that Nelson Stefanich had forwarded location coordinates to Howie Johnson’s team. It was a couple of hours yet till nightfall, when Mac planned to pay the visit. Chang had time to confirm Mac’s instructions to the crew at the Ptolemas airport to refuel the Rooster Tail and entered into the computer that Senior Commander Johnson had been cleared at the highest levels to fly it to New Babylon. That done, Chang found Stefanich’s cell phone number and called it in to Mac. Got everything else you need?
Chang said. Well, I’d still like to know the disposition of the Oh, I will. Hey, Chang? Sir? Who’s better than you? Thank you, sir. Finally, Chang was able to check his other recordings from throughout the day. He located the one emanating from Carpathia’s office and backed up to several minutes before Nicolae, his secretary Krystall, Leon Fortunato, Suhail Akbar, and Viv Ivins sat watching the feed from the cockpit of the initial fighter-bomber. Suhail had just told the potentate he had arranged for him to watch live, and Carpathia had expressed excited anticipation. Chang sped through several minutes of setup and of Nicolae welcoming the various ones into the room. Then, pay dirt. Akbar informed Carpathia that the fighter-bombers were set for takeoff from Amman, and that he could bring that up on the monitor, if you wi sh.
If I wish? Please! Palace to Amman Command, Suhail said. Amman. Go ahead, Palace. Initiate visual coverage of takeoff. Roger that. Several seconds of silence. Then Carpathia. Suhail, these are fighter-bombers? Is it an optical illusion? They look huge. Oh, they are, Eminence. They have been in service only a few weeks.
Notice how high they sit off the ground. The gear is the tallest of any fighter ever. It has That is the bomb, underneath? Yes, sir. Talk about huge. It looks massive! Way too big to be carried internally, sir. It’s four and a half feet in diameter and eleven feet long. The thing weighs fifteen thousand pounds. You do not say! Oh, yes, sir. It’s carried on what we call an underbelly centerline station.
And what is it, Suhail? What are we serving the enemy today? The Americans used to call these Big Blue 82s. They are concussion bombs. Eighty percent of their weight is made up of a gel consisting of polystyrene, ammonium nitrate, and powdered aluminum. Is it as powerful as it is large? Excellency, Suhail said, nothing but a nuclear weapon would be more so. These are designed to detonate just a few feet off the ground and generate a thousand pounds of pressure per square inch. It should kill everything even the little creatures below the ground in an area as large as two thousand acres. The mushroom cloud alone will rise more than a mile. And we’re dropping two. Plus a missile. Yes, sir.
Fire? Oh, Your Highness, that’s the best part. Each concussion bomb creates a fireball six thousand feet in Chang recoiled at a loud hiss, and he imagined a nearly overcome Carpathia inhaling deeply through his nose and
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