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One of them was a judge, a former corporate lawyer, who lived up in Dunnellon.
So when Joe saw a crew working around Mr. Morris' plane he got a little
suspicious. He knew it wasn't up for maintenance any time soon. And sure as
hell it wasn't supposed to be going anywhere. So when the guys pulled the
chocks he started trotting towards it.
One of the guys, both of whom were wearing blue coveralls, pulled out a device
and opened the door.
But it wasn't keys to the plane, it was a pick gun, a device used by
locksmiths and car thieves. The fuckers were stealing Bob's plane!
"Hey," he shouted, drawing the lousy .38 he was forced to carry. "Stop!"
The guy still on the ground reached down to the big toolbox they'd carried
over and pulled out a Czech
Skorpion sub-machinegun.
Joe realized he was totally fucked as he dropped to one knee. There wasn't a
bit of fucking cover anywhere. He triggered two rounds from the crappy little
revolver and was glad to see them hit.
On the other hand, the fucker with the Skorpion had fired at the same time.
The last thing Joe Pallozzi saw was the flash from the suppressor.
* * *
"Kildar."
"Go," Mike said, looking around Adventureland. Families with kids. Teenage
girls. Teenage boys watching the teenage girls. Fucking nada. Disney security
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was starting to clear the road for the afternoon parade and moving through the
crowd was getting harder.
"A plane has just been stolen from the Clearwater Air Park in Clearwater,
Florida. That is just across the bay from MacDill Air Force Base. The plane is
being tracked on radar and is heading for MacDill.
SOCOM believes that this is the next attack."
"Fuck," Mike snarled, drawing a look from a passing tourist. "What about the
CAP?"
"The current combat air patrol is four F-16s, operating out of MacDill. Two
were over the Tampa Bay area but are east of the contact and are turning west.
The other two were south of Orlando, covering the
Orlando area. They are actually closer to the contact, so they have been
vectored to intercept."
Mike had heard the sonic booms in the distance a minute or so ago and filtered
them out. Now he wanted to curse again.
"It's a feint," Mike said. "Call SOCOM and get the damned CAP turned around.
You can't rig a regular plane in a few minutes to drop this shit. It's a
damned deception plan. Is there an AWACS up?"
"Yes," Greznya said. "And we're getting the take from their local screens."
"Keep an eye out for a liftoff soon," Mike said. "And make sure that Dragon is
aware of the situation.
Put all the teams on high alert; we're going to get hit soon."
He looked around and blanched. The rides were emptying out as people gathered
to pack along the street in anticipation of the parade.
"Oh. My. God."
"Kildar, what?" Greznya said.
"The parade," Mike said, stepping under one of the barriers and starting to
trot down the road towards
Fantasyland. "Call Fisher. Tell him the target is the Parade."
* * *
Farzad started the engine of the Piper as soon as the three man ground crew
pushed him clear of the big doors and turned onto the empty stretch of
pavement. He had gotten the word that Gibron had gotten into the air. He would
soon be a martyr. But they were all martyrs, now. He did not expect to survive
the flight.
The Piper nearly didn't make it into the air but it managed to claw upwards at
the end of the road and over the low pines surrounding the industrial park.
The flight time to the Magic Kingdom was only four minutes. It was a good time
to pray.
* * *
"Kildar," Greznya said. "A contact has just appeared that is not a cleared
aircraft. It took off from just off Florida Highway 33 and is headed for
Disney."
"Dragon?" Mike asked. He was at the square behind Cinderella's Castle and now
sped up.
"Already lifting off," Greznya said. "But she is out of position to intercept.
She estimates she will reach the Magic Kingdom about the same time as the
aircraft, but from the east instead of west. We anticipated that the attack
would come from the Kissimmee area."
"Tell her to hammer it," Mike said, slowing down. The aircraft was going to be
coming in from the northwest. It might hit Fantasyland, first, but he was just
as sure that the target was the parade, which came down from Adventureland,
turned at the square, then went south to Main Street. He pulled the
communicator off his belt and keyed on the take from Greznya. Sure enough, the
bird was coming from the northwest and already over Disney property. Dragon
was up and hammering for the park but she was way out of position. "Greznya,
gimme all teams," Mike said. "All teams. Go hot at this time. Target coming in
from the northwest. Converge near. . ." he looked around and shrugged.
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"Converge near
Haunted Mansion. Grez, give me Colonel Olds. . ." he said, putting the
communicator back on his belt and dumping his backpack.
* * *
"Colonel, it's that Kildar guy," the RTO said, holding out a telephone.
"What?" Olds snapped, taking the phone.
"We have an inbound at Disney. What is your intent?"
"As far as we can determine, it is a civilian aircraft that is off-course,"
the colonel replied. "I don't have a shoot order from higher."
"You're authorized to fire at your discretion," Mike said, incredulously.
"That's why they gave you
Slammers. Now are you going to take it out?"
"I. . . I do not have a shoot order," the colonel stammered.
"FUCK SHOOT ORDERS," the man screamed. "TAKE OUT THE DAMNED PLANE!"
"Colonel," the RTO said. "One of the Slammers has eyeballs on the target and
is requesting shoot authorization. . ."
"I will have to call you back," the colonel said, handing the phone back to
the RTO. "Get me
Tallahassee. I need authorization to shoot. . ."
* * *
Sergeant Ray Thompson had been an Air Defense Artillery gunner since he'd
first joined the Florida
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