Thursday, October 14, 2010



Strongheart was pleased--his spirit soared as he loped along the crest of a snow -painted hill. The sun was low on his left side, and the wind, which had been fierce and cold all afternoon, had finally blown away. He reined to a stop at the very highest point, and scanned the horizon ahead.
The jutting pine-covered bluffs were outlined clearly against a deepening blue, cloudless sky. It would be dark soon, but he did not feel tired. He turned and gazed proudly at the five horses he was leading. He had left home leading only one.
Never before had a winter hunt been so successful. Through a span of twelve days, he had killed three deer, two bison, and an elk. His strong hands were sore from skinning and cutting. Then, just as he was ready to give up trying to load it all on his one pack horse,a small Crow hunting party pitched camp just across a frozen stream, and never, knew he was there--until they awoke to find their horses gone. Now he had enough meat to last most of the winter, packed neatly onto four Crow ponies.
If the wind had not died, or he had smelled fresh snow on the air, he would not have considered a night ride. But the bluffs were so close, he knew that if he traveled through the night, he could be home by mid-morning. There was really no decision to make-- he was too excited to too sleep anyway. He urged his pony into a canter and the others followed close behind.
Strongheart thought about his wife and little boy--how he had missed them! They would be putting in wood for the night, for they could see the big, red sun, just as he did, stroking the edge of the world. And they would be worried about him, as they always were when he left to hunt. Their prayers would loft out of the tepee, swept on the still night wind to the Great Spirit whose hands encompassed the whole Circle of the Universe. He wrapped more tightly in his great bison-skin robe as the evening air began to chill, and chanted his own prayer for the safety of his family during his absence.
The bright star of the north, which he kept in front of of him was the Great Father's gift to the night traveler. The glorious full moon splashed the whole country side with silver shimmering light. It was still, and peaceful, and Strongheart felt so glad to be alive---so grateful to be a part of the Circle. His own breath, and the horses', wafted out in little cloud-puffs and floated in the air. The only sound was staggered crunching as each hoof broke the frosted snow. Soon the bluffs loomed large and dark above him, and the horses' pants came more rapidly as they started the upward climb. The vast, bluish-silver plains away behind, and Strongheart was finally enveloped in the pine-forest of his home.
Suddenly horses and rider straightened, all ears pinned to the quiet night. Strongheart reined to a stop as the silence was again disturbed by what he at first sensed was the sound of a gunshot.
Now he realized it was the sound of ax meeting timber. Someone was ahead in the trees, chopping wood, which seemed very strange considering the sun was was well down. It would have been but a short delay to go around the person, and certainly safer, but Strongheart's curiosity was aroused. He wanted to find out who was making camp within a day's ride of his own winter quarters. He continued straight on, but more slowly and cautiously than before.
As Strongheart moved up the side of the bluff, the chopping became louder and slower. The woodcutter was apparently tiring, which also seemed strange, as he had not been cutting long. Then, ducking branches, Strongheart passed between two trees into a little clearing, and he found out why.
Before him, well lit by the bright moon, was a boy of nine or ten--about the age of his own son. The boy turned, startled, as Strongheart emerged from the trees. He was a white boy, his face pale in the moonlight, and he froze in mid chop. Strongheart stopped, and studied the boy for a moment, then strained his senses to detect another presence--a father, or older brother--but the boy was apparently alone. The boy's eyes flicked sideways just for an instant, and Strongheart followed that glance to an old rifle propped against the snowy branches of a pine. But the boy remained fixed, the ax poised threateningly in the air--he knew he could never make it to the rifle.
Strongheart was now even more curious. What would a boy be doing alone in the forest, so late in the evening, chopping wood? He sniffed the air carefully, but caught no smell of fire. It made no sense. Finally, he pulled his leg over the horses neck, and slid to the ground. The boy moved forward a step simultaneously, set his feet, waved the ax above his head. This white boy was obviously frightened, but no coward.
An owl swooped silently above them, its black shadow rippling across the silver-blue snow between. Strongheart smiled, and raised his hand in greeting. The boy scrutinized him cautiously. Strongheart knew the boy could not hold the ax up for long, and so he continued to smile, and raised his hand patiently again. Finally, the boy eased the ax down slowly, but remained alert and tense. When the blade rested on the snow, Strongheart moved forward several steps, then raised his hand a third time in friendship. The boy's features softened a little. He loosened his grip on the ax, and returned the gesture.
There had been white people through the area before, usually alone or in small groups, hunting and trapping. Farther south, along the river, there was a white man's road which was heavily traveled in the spring and summer. But Strongheart had little contact with these people, and only knew a few words in their language. So he spoke slowly in his own tongue, using his hands to sign. He tried to ask the boy what he was doing in the woods so late, but the boy just cocked his head and knitted his brows. Then suddenly, his face lit up. From the gestures which Strongheart made, he gathered at least some understanding of what he was being asked.
The boy started speaking rapidly, in words which Strongheart could not comprehend. He pointed several times to the little pine tree, then back along the bluff to the east. It was obvious that he wanted to take fire wood back to a campsite or cabin. The base of the tree, however,where the boy had been chopping, was hardly scratched through the bark --the ax he was using was rusty and dull. The boy would have chopped away half the night to get it down, even it was a small tree.
Strongheart went back to his horse and unlashed his own hatchet. He kept it clean and sharp, always. When he struck the tree, wood chips flew, and scattered out over the snow. Within minutes, the tree leaned and fell. The little boy's eyes were wide--he had never seen such short work made of a tree. Strongheart did not even stop for a breath, but turned , and poised himself to remove the branches. He stopped, though. For some reason, the boy became very agitated, waving his arms and crying,"NO! NO!" Strongheart knew that white man's word. He looked curiously at the boy, then stepped back.
The boy was talking to him again, trying to explain, pointing again from tree to the east and back. Finally he gave up, and took his ax and old rifle, propping them into the branches of the fallen tree. Then he grabbed the trunk, waved at Strongheart, and started to drag the tree intact' out of the clearing.
Strongheart watched him for several minutes as he struggled through the snow, dragging the tree behind him. It was obvious the child was tenacious enough to persist in his effort, even if it took all night. He looked to the north where the star he followed gleamed brightly above his own home. Then he shrugged his shoulders, took his horse's bridle, ant went after the boy.
With rope, he tied the tree to drag behind the rear pack horse, then swung up on his own. When he reached down , the boy didn't understand what he wanted. Strongheart patted the rump of the horse, then reached down again. For the first time, the boy broke into a smile -- a wide smile -- and no words were needed to express his feelings as he took Strongheart's hand, and was pulled upon the horse. Strongheart felt the boy' arm encircle him, and squeeze tight, and he was glad he had decided not to leave him struggling alone with the tree.
The boy had started back along his own tracks, and it was easy in the moonlight for Strongheart to follow them. The tracks went on and on, for nearly a mile, up the side of the bluff. How the boy had figured to drag the tree so far, Strongheart couldn't imagine. Finally, cresting a little rise, he spotted dim lights on the edge of a small clearing. As they came closer, Strongheart could see it was a tiny cabin, the light from inside glowing through the oilskin-covered windows. But there was no smoke curling from the chimney. The night was still, and not dreadfully cold, yet surely if anyone was there, a fire would be burning. The boy had drifted in and out of sleep, so that Strongheart held his hands from time to time when he began to slip . But now he was awake and agitated again. It was clear he was also concerned about the lack of smoke.
Strongheart waited on his horse. He could see little inside as the boy cracked the the door and slid in. Several moments passed. Smoke began to curl up from the chimney, and the boy reappeared, took several split logs from a tiny pile by the door, and disappeared inside again. Strongheart slid off his horse, untied the pine tree and pulled it over to a nearby stump, which was surrounded with a carpet of wood chips. He took his ax, and was preparing to reduce the tree to firewood when the boy came running over, waving his hands and shaking his head.
The whites were obviously a strange breed. Strongheart watched, amazed, as the boy dragged the entire tree to the cabin, and through the door, inside. Then the boy reappeared, and waved to Strongheart to come along as well. Strongheart did so, mainly to find out if the boy planned to chop up the tree right in the cabin.
Inside there were two more children--another boy about eight, and a small girl about five. In the corner, shivering under several thread bare blankets, a woman, drawn, pale, and obviously feverish, regarded him fearfully through glazed eyes. He looked around the room quickly, and knew immediately that this little family was in serious trouble. a partial bag of flour was the only sign of any food, and hunger was plain in the children's eyes. The two boys had pushed the trunk of the small tree down a crack in dirt floor, and were propping it upright with stones. But Strongheart had no time to consider this newest curiosity--there was work to be done.
He went outside, and unlashed all the strips of deer, elk and bison meat which he had labored so hard to obtain. He now knew why the Great Spirit had been so generous to him. He rubbed the shaggy bison hide, which was going to be son's winter hunting cloak, then unlashed it. He had scraped it clean, but it was not cured, and was stiff with th cold. Still it would keep the woman warm. He carried it and a huge slab of meat inside. He put the robe tenderly over the woman, tucking it tightly around her. Then he packed their cooking pot with clean snow, and hung it over the crackling fire.
While the snow melted in the pot, he went back outside and stowed the remainder of the meat in a little storage shed adjacent to the cabin. In the stream bed behind the house, he scraped snow from the bank until he uncovered a good, flat reddish chunk of sandstone. This he took back with him.
Inside it was brighter. Several additional candles had been lit, and Strongheart beheld another curious sight. The children were giggling, busily hanging trinkets of all kinds on the pine tree--knives and forks and spoons and thimbles and pools and strips of cloth and little hand-carved decorations. They were having such fun, he smiled as he watched, even though he did not understand why they would do such a thing. The woman, still looking weak and feverish, was no longer trembling. She was smiling, watching from the warmth of the bison robe--there was even a hint of sparkle in her eyes.
Strongheart did not want to interrupt the fun, but he did want to get home to his own family. He called the older boy aside, and showed him quickly how to dampen the sand stone, and then with smooth, circular sweeps, use it to hone the edge on the ax. Within minutes, the old blade was sparkling again, sharp enough to carve meat. The boy smiled in understanding, nodding his head; then Strongheart waved him back to the other children.
The slab of meat was not completely thawed, but Strongheart placed it in the boiling water, and went back outside. He felt good, and the ax sang in the air, wood chips swirling around him like snow. When he was finished , there was a pile of split wood by the cabin door that would last a month. And he developed an appetite as well, which he thought would last a month. There was a heavy smell of cooking meat mixed with baking bread, and his mouth watered as he went inside.
The little tree had been transformed--it sparkled with light and glowed with color. The children had worked magic. The table was set with plates and cups, and a heaping pile of steaming biscuits. Strongheart removed his robe, and rubbed his aching muscles. The younger boy was cutting the meat, while the older was helping the woman drink broth. Suddenly he felt a tug on his sleeve, and looked down to see the little girl looking up at him, her big eyes bright and beaming. She held a crudely carved star in her hand , and she was talking to him, pointing to the tree. He followed her over, unsure of what she wanted, but she kept pointing to the top of the tree. He decided that she wanted him to place the star there, where none of the children could reach. He took the star, and realized the chatter had ceased, the room was silent, and all four members of the little family were watching him.
He still wasn't sure what they wanted, but using a piece of yarn, he tied the star to the very top of the tree. Suddenly, the three children, and even the woman under the bison skin, began to sing together. It was slow, almost almost wistful song which Strongheart somehow knew was sung to the Great Spirit. When it was finished the older boy read some words from a book, then, after several moments of absolute silence, the little cabin erupted again with the children's exuberance.
The little girl took Strongheart by the hand, and seated him at the head of the table. Heaps of food were dished out to all. The children giggled as Strongheart tried to copy their use of knife and fork, only to massacre his food almost beyond recognition. The woman sat up and ate some meat and biscuits as well, and a glow was returning to her cheeks.
Finally, one by one, each pushed back from the table, full to the point of discomfort. The little girl and younger boy went to Strongheart, eyes welling in tears, and he did not need to understand the words to know their meaning. Then they clambered under the bison skin with the woman, and sank into sleep. The woman waved to Strongheart to come over. She said nothing, but she took his hand in hers, and squeezed it tightly.
The sun would be rising soon, and Strongheart knew, as it was, he would not be home until after dark that night. He wrapped his robe around his shoulders, and turned to look one last time at the magical tree. Then he smiled at the older boy, who was just dozing off by the fire, and swept silently out into the still night.
He took one of the best of the Crow ponies, and left it in the empty corral. He had no need for four new ponies. Then he mounted his own, started for home. But just as he reached the edge of the clearing, he heard a shout from behind, and stopped. The boy came running full speed across the snowy, rocky meadow, and leaped through space like a mountain lion. Strongheart grabbed him in mid-air, and pulled the boy onto the horse. His arms encircled Strongheart's neck in a full bear hug, then the boy slid off the horse, and trotted back toward the cabin.
Strongheart urged his horse up the steep, slippery bluff, back again on his northward journey. There was enough food at home to last awhile--he would rest a few days, and then hunt again. He was tired, but felt a warm glow inside--a wholeness; a unity of spirit which could only come from a unity with the Circle, the Great Hoop of the World. This white family had not been his people in need; but they had been people in need--children of the Great Spirit, as his people were.
He thought of his own wife and son, who were probably just starting to stir awake. They were alone when he went hunting. Someday they might need help--and if that would ever happen, perhaps the Great Spirit would provide for them, as He had provided for this white family.
Cresting a jutting, rocky crag, Strongheart could see back down into the little meadow. The whole eastern sky was a flaming red, though the sun had not crept into view. It was the most beautiful sunrise he had ever seen; the red light shone across the plains and up the bluffs, turning the whole world a glorious,crimson hue. He could see the boy, sitting on the woodpile. The boy waved--a slow, goodbye, thank you, God-bless you wave. Strongheart raised his arm high, then turned his way toward home.



It was no wonder why every nation on the face of the earth was trying to to get their hands on the US Silver HAWK (Homing All The Way Killer) Missile. The most deadly version could accurately hit any selected crater on Mars with a nuclear warhead. It was the fastest, deadliest missile in existence. It could orbit earth like a satellite, receiving and sending signals. When given the nod, it could put a nuclear bomb in the laps of Russia's Putin, Iran's Mahmoud Admadinejad, China's H U Jintao or North Korea's Kim Jong II. It's stealth capabilities made it impossible to shoot down. The US, Great Britain and Canada had jointly, secretly developed it---- had it and weren't going to share it. The US had developed the most deadly, most sophisticated version of it. The US, Britain and Canada were desperately holding on to their secret, successfully fighting off attempts to steal enough information to copy it. The world balance of power now shifted to their hands. Power they refused to relinquish.


2nd LAAMBN Silver HAWK Missile Park----Restricted Area

Raul Ortega was born in Mexico. His family was very poor. As He grew up, he seldom saw his father who would illegally cross the border into the US to find work. His father never failed to send money back to them. It wasn't much, but it kept Raul's brothers and sisters fed and dressed in second hand clothes, sandals, or shoes. Occasionally Raul's father Manuel would get caught and deported back to the little village outside La Puerta where they lived. He would tell Raul tales about US wealth, abuse of the Mexican people, cold, hungry nights of homeless living, and good paying jobs when he got lucky. Manual would refer to the US as America, which Raul thought odd, because Mexico was also a country on the American Continent. His father never stayed long--- he would sneak back into the US soon as they ran out of money.
Raul was well educated by a small Catholic mission. He excelled at math . He loved history too. It angered him that white invaders stole Texas from Mexico in 1836 and California in 1847. As far as Raul was concerned Texas, California and Arizona should belong to Mexico and Mexican people should have free passage crossing the border. That was a philosophy he keep deep in his soul.
At 18 he obtained all the required work permits, crossed the border into California and found some family in San Diego. Trying to gain citizenship by serving in the military he joined the United States Marine Corps, a branch he truly respected and admired. His aptitude tests were high. He possessed a high IQ. The Corps sent him to electronics school. An FBI background check found him clean. It wasn't long until he was a Radar Technician with a Top Secret Security Clearance in the Silver HAWK's 2nd LAAMBN located at the Marine Corps Training Center, Twentynine Palms California.
Treatment of poor Mexican people in the US inflamed Raul's soul. To him they were treated as third rate citizens. Arizona's latest immigration law fuel the fire burning within him. "Arizona's immigration law encourages police abuse," said Mexican President Felipe Calderon on all major news net works. Raul couldn't agree more. He became bitter toward the United States.
Raul found an accomplice in his friend Cpl. Hector Fuentes. They both shared the same dislike for the US. Hector had grown up in the poverty stricken, less desirable part of Los Angeles. The Marine Corps was his ticket out of poverty. Hector's mother and father worked themselves to death raising seven children. One of his brothers was shot by the cops. "He did nothing!" moaned Hector "He didn't do what they said he did. He didn't even own a gun."
One of his sisters was killed by stray bullets in a police-street gang shoot out. She was only eight years old at the time. Another one of Hector's older sisters lost her home in a recent mortgage foreclosure. His youngest brother was killed a year ago in a car chase. The car hit the spike strips set by the police. The car flipped, hit the embankment killing him . He had stolen the car. The remaining members of the family were poor, unemployed and struggling to just to stay alive in this recessive economy.

Raul's plan was to steal a mobile Silver HAWK Missile and a few shoulder firing Satan SS-3s. He would drive the HAWK Unit, loaded with the Satans and other weapons straight to Mexico, and sell it to foreigners, more friendly and helpful to Mexico than the United States.
Tonight Juli Sanchez was naked and straddling her boyfriend Raul during a round of sizzling hot sex. She had both hands resting flat on his chest. Her hips moved slowly in a left-right, forward and back motion. She would move back far enough to bend his male organ then release forward, moving the hips left and right as she went. Then she would repeat the movement, sometimes adding a back and forth semi circle. Her head was tilted upward slightly to the ceiling. Her eyes were closed. Her face showed that dreamy lost in love look many women get during sex. She breath a soft trembling, excited breath as Raul made complimentary moves beneath her.
Raul loved having sex like this with Juli. Her hip movements, her dreamy sexy look, the weight of her naked body pressing down on his, her smooth legs, her excited breathing and her response to every sexual move, made being committed to her worth it. Never did she say no to him when he wanted sex unless she was having her period. She had big brown eyes, long brown hair, beautiful lips, breast that weren't small but not large either and a light brown complexion. She had a persuasive , not over bearing or demanding personality.
She lived in a cluster of duplexes on the north side of Twentynine Palms. It was the last group of buildings, then wide open, rugged desert and nothing else for miles. Raul never questioned why she lived here, by herself, away from family and friends. It seemed odd. She supported herself by working as a check out at the grocery store. She didn't seem to hurt for money. There was always plenty of food in the frig. She was an outstanding cook and a very clean house keeper. She had all the attributes of a good wife. She also was an accomplice in his plot to steal the missiles. She was not only his lover, but his best friend and trusted advisor.
They both came at the same time, almost screaming with pleasure. Julie stayed on until they both settled down. Then she rolled off went into the bath room to cleanse herself. She came out wearing a white rob. She was still naked underneath. In a few minutes they would do it again. They often did. Their record was four times. They usually stopped at three, switching positions. They were young, lusty and possessed the stamina for big sexual appetites. Tonight they would settle for twice for they had much to discuss.

At first Raul was going to be a lone wolf, then he realized he would need help to pull it off. Fortunately he met Hector who insisted on money. "The operation is too dangerous." he exclaimed. "If we pull this off we will need to hide. We will be hunted down like animals. These missiles are worth millions to other countries and they will pay millions. Our services and knowledge alone are very valuable. Please, let's find those who will pay and help." he implored.
Then he met Juli. When she expressed the same feelings about the US as he did he confided in her. To his amazement, she was willing to join him and help him carry out his plan. But not without reservation. "We will need much more than money." she pointed out. "To hide we will need new identities, new documents, a place to hide the missiles over the border, help at getting to and across the border. I have friends in high and low places that will pay us much money. If we get caught we will go to prison and be separated for the rest of our lives, maybe even killed. My friends will help us do this.
After resting from the first round of sex, they started kissing. Juli used her right hand to caress Raul's face and the fingers of her left hand entwined in his hair. Her right leg caressed his stomach. He ran his left hand over her leg and butt. He nibbled on her breasts. They kissed passionately, caressing each other all over their partner's body. Finally, he rolled over on to her. Their bodies moved in unison. He kissed up and down her neck. She moved her hips slowly answering every thrust he made with a little bend. They breathed heavily. Finally they both rushed to a climax - both moaning with the pleasure they were experiencing. She bent him for several seconds before he pulled out. He kissed her passionately again up and down her neck. It was a grand finally. Juli got up first, cleaned herself and came back dressed in her cotton pajamas covered by her white terry cloth robe. She sat on the couch in front of a 36" TV watching ABC News. Raul got up and dressed in the civilians he wore there. Tan shorts, a printed Marine Corps t-shirt, and white athletic shoes. He joined her on the couch.
"Hector wants money, before he will move. Token money, kinda insurance he will get paid." he told her. "He wants at least $100,000. He will give it to his sister to split among the family. They are very poor. This economy is killing them." he went on.
"Yes!" she said. " " The money is no problem. I have it. And you have more to tell?" she asked.
"Yes!" he said. " I'm ready to move and soon . There is a secret missile shoot planned this weekend at the Luke Air Force Range in Arizona. . They will be taking three units with support trucks and Hummers. Our friends have to be ready to move. I removed the GPS tracking devices from the unit I will be driving. I have them outside in my car. Our friends must install these in the decoy truck that will replace me the minute I leave the convoy. I will lag behind, faking some vehicle problems. I will pull off and the decoy truck will replace me. The trackers will think I am still with the unit. I will run straight down 85 into Mexico! The officers have already gone ahead, leaving the NCO's to get the equipment there. Hector will stay with the convoy, blocking any attempts to get to the decoy vehicle. We recruited one more, L/cpl Francisco Gomez. He's okay. We needed more help in the convoy. He will help Hector throw out any interference if needed."
"I hope your right, about Francisco. We can't afford being trapped by an undercover agent!" she warned. "What is his motivation?" she asked.
"Money, drugs, hates the US immigration policy." he answered. "He's poor. The Marine Corps is not for him. He wants out. Confused, discontented young man. His mother lives in Mexico. He wants to go and live with her. He will need money. He's valuable to our friends as a tech for the Satan Missiles I will be bringing. He can train people to use and maintain them." he explained.
"I hope you're right about him. It's our asses if you're wrong!" she warned. "Where's Hector now?" she asked.
"In town with one of his sisters. She's here visiting, trying to get Hector to loan her money." he answered.
"Call him!" she ordered as she pulled a large suit case out of her closet. "Tell him we have something he needs- to come over right now. Tell him no more than that. " She opened the large suit case. It was full of money of varying denominations. "There's $100,000 here." she said. "This should make him happy!" They waited for his arrival while watching the new TV series " Covert Affairs".
After about 15 minutes there was a knock on the door. Juli hit the pause button to save her show. It was Hector. "Come on in!" she ordered. He and Raul exchanged greetings. There was a big smile on Raul's face. Juli led Hector to the suit case on the kitchen table. She opened it up. Hector's big brown eyes opened wide.
" There's $ 100,000 here as starter money!" she exclaimed. " Tell your sister to spend it wisely and slowly so not to attract a lot of attention." she sternly advised. "Now go quickly!" she ordered. "We must not be seen together!"
In the left section of the duplex across from Juli's, three men were watching and listening. They weren't Americans or US citizens. They were Iranians! Also watching from one of Tinker Bell's ( Lori Doddington Singer) altered TVs was no other than Barbra Allen and her Silver Lakes staff. Barbara got on her secure line and reported to her boss in Washington, DC. Back at the 2nd LAAMBN undercover agent, Marine Sgt. Harly Bolt, Jr., Staff Sgt. Chuck Hires and APS field rep, James Kling were hard at work. While Hector and Raul were in town they switched chassis in the the Silver HAWK Missile. They reloaded the warheads with realistic dummies. They removed circuits from the Satans and replaced them with others. Their war heads were also changed out. All related check out computers and simulators were altered.
" When he runs maintenance and repair checks, everything will check out okay." explained Kling. "He will never know things aren't okay."
Harly not only was a Marine but also an undercover plant for Homeland Security. He had bugs every where. He uncovered Raul's plot just days ago. He got on the Hot Line to Barb. " Done!" was all he said.
Following Hector's sister back to LA were a man and a woman. They were Russian agents. Hacked into Julie's computer were Chinese, Russian and Iranian intelligence agents. Everyone wanted those missiles.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Part II The Silver HAWK- The Satan Missiles



Shura was naked in her bed straddling Airforce Technical Sergent Terrance "Terry" Grant in her Silver Lakes condo overlooking the golf course. He was moaning and groaning with ecstatic pleasure as her hips moved in a slow semi-circle, then forward and back, up and down, a complete circle clock wise then counter clock wise. She was marvelous. Perfect figure, natural blond, full breasts, great legs, great sex. She was doing it all for Terry. The washing machine, the hula hoop, the circle dance, whatever you wanted to call it ,Terry was getting it. But so was Shura. She was skillfully squeezing Top Secret information out of the Airman. He was hooked and hooked badly. She leaned down and blew in his ear. She nibbled on his ear lobes. She whispered in his ears. She told him how good he was, how much she loved him. He couldn't take it any longer. It didn't last as long as it should. It never did. She was too good. She was Shura Tarasov, named the "Hot Sizzling Blond" by those who monitored her activites. She stayed on him, moving gently, softly, so sexy and Terrance gasped and moaned. She finally removed herself, and walked into the bathroom. Its entrance was close to the bed. She apparently cleansed herself and returned wearing only a skimpy pair of sheer black bikini under wear. She got back in bed next to Terry.
"Sorry I came so fast," said Terry "You're just too good."
"It's okay," she lied. You are soooo very good too. Soooo big and manly. We'll do it again in a few minutes. It will be even better and last longer." And they did and it was-- at least lasted longer anyway.
Sitting on the bedroom dresser was a 32" Vizio Flat Screen TV installed weeks ago by Agent Lori D. Singer (Tinker Bell). However, this was not your everyday Vizio. Not only was it a TV, but a wide screen camera with audio recording. It was sending this whole bedroom sex scene to no other but Barbara Allen's staff at her Lakeview home and office in Silver Lakes.
When Terry arrived earlier at Shura's plush Silver Lakes Condo, he brought her a present in a brown 12 1/2"x 9 1/2" envelope. After the second round of heavy sex, Terry fell asleep.

"Well it sure looks obvious she has control of him in bed." remarked ScrewBall ( Ron Perkins ).
" Believe me," replied Barb. " She's not enjoying any second of it. It's all acting. She's sacrificing her own pleasure to work him --to control him-- to worm info out of him. Her thrill is getting that info. When she gets all she can, she will dump him, even kill him. Sex, money, drugs, black mail, intimidation, false promises and of course the "thrill" ----- all driving forces of people like her," she elaborated further. "Ron, you're closest to the coffee pot. Would you please pour me a cup?" she asked with a little devious smirk on her face.
"Um, I really shouldn't stand up right now." he answered embarrassed, his face blushed.
"Thought so." replied Barb as she walked to the pot and poured herself a cup. " You men have to learn to keep your minds on business. Don't let this cloud you for one minute. We can't afford to miss anything. Got it?" she asked with a warning.
"Sorry!" answered ScrewBall. "But with someone like her ..... hey she's picking up the envelope!"
Shura opened the envelope and smiled. It contained four pictures of what looked like a Silver Hawk system. She walked over to her computer, put the contents in the scanner one by one and recorded the material.
ScrewBall had already hacked into her computer. He pulled up the material she just recorded. "It's pictures of the Silver Hawk, its launcher, power generator and radar center. There's a picture of the Battery Control Center too." he reported.
Charlotte (Cricket) immediately brought up the pictures on her computer. She skillfully altered each picture to look different. She was so good at what she did, no experts could tell for sure that the pictures had been doctored. It looked enough like the HAWK's system but yet was different. She printed out her work.
Barb and Mike (Cougar) examined the print outs.
"Good job !" complimented Barb. Mike nodded his approval.
Shura typed some encrypted messages to a person called "Moose." She forwarded the pictures also. Cricket had finished the doctoring just in time. She was not only good, accurate and talented, but also fast. Accurate speed was a necessity in this line of work.
"She just sent the info off to a contact some where in San Diego." reported ScrewBall. " Mobil unit on the move. Whoops! Sorry! Lost the signal. These folks, whoever they are a pros. They're good!"
"We have enough to arrest these two, but I think the upper brass will want us to catch their contacts if possible." explained Barb. She got on her phone and called her boss. The conversation was encrypted. She was right. Keep the investigation going. Get as many of these operators as possible were her orders.
Shura put the pictures back in the envelope and laid them on the dresser. She returned to the sleeping Terry and snuggled up to him. She had been working the Airman for three months. She knew she had him hooked and hooked badly. He had been giving her bits and pieces of information for weeks. Good information that checked out with what her people already had. He would be getting out soon. He wanted to marry her and move back to his home town of Cincinnati, Ohio. However, the country was in a bad recession and unemployment was high. He feared getting out, but if he stayed in, there was a chance they would be separated. There was a highly secret missile battery stationed in a remote part of Alaska. They could go for weeks without seeing each other. Her people were pleased when she passed the batteries location to them. She knew she had to act now, if she were to get what her people were asking her to get--a shoulder fired Satan Missile and one of the Silver HAWK's simulator-repair computers.
Terry woke and started to rub her thigh. She nibbled on his ear. "Do you love me?" she asked blowing in his ear.
" You know I do babe." he answered. "I would do anything for you, you know that."
" I would like to go to Spain, Portugal or Italy to live when you get out," she whispered as she gently massaged his chest. "We could be so happy together in Spain. It is sooo beautiful." she added.
"You know I want to make you happy and always be with you, but I am not a rich man. I could never afford that." he sadly answered. Besides what would I do?" he asked.
" I have friends. They would pay us millions for a Satan Missile and a HAWK simulator. They would give us a Villa in Spain with new identities. We would never have to work again. We would be together always." she explained as she rubbed her leg on his stomach. She was getting him aroused.
" You are asking me to do a very dangerous thing. If we get caught we will go to prison for life. Besides I don't know if I can pull it off." he answered breathing heavy.
"For me yes? You are so smart. For me you will do anything, yes?" she asked slowly kissing up and down his neck. "This is very exciting, yes?" He was hard, very hard. "Let me thank you for showing me the pictures of your beautiful missile."
"We have to destroy them. We can't get caught with them." he answered.
" Soon but not now." she whispered as he rolled over on her. Her hips moved slowly, left and right, up and down, making circles and semi circles. She was doing all the work, just letting him enjoy her body. Her arms were around his neck, her legs locked on his back. He would do as she asked, she knew it.
Watching was Barbra's staff. They knew it too. "Sex and now the addition of money. " said Barb.
When Terry was finished Shura went into the bathroom. When she came out she was dressed in a white blouse and white short shorts. They complimented her tan skin and blond hair. She looked great. She took the pictures and the brown envelope to the shredder. Then she emptied the contents into a white plastic trash bag. "I will dump these in a trash can some where in Victorville." she explained. "Not here."
Terry was still stretched out in bed. She went over and straddled him. She put both hands on his face and asked," You will do for me what I need, yes? To go to Spain or maybe Italy?"
" Anything for you babe," he gasped. "But I will need some money to help pull this off."
She got off of him. Opened her purse on the dresser and gave him a big roll of money. "This is very exciting, yes?" she asked again.
"You bet babe, I think we can pull this off." he answered. " You know, you're right. It is exciting."
"Sex, money, now the thrill. The ingredients are all starting to appear, boss said Gabby ( Lois Lentz ).

Barb got on her radio to the two agents, Earl Brant and Theresa Martin, watching and listening Shura's condo from a parked white surveillance van in the parking lot," Retrieve that white trash bag, if she dumps it. I am not sure she will."
"Right boss will do, " reported Earl. "Boss, we're not the only ones watching her." he added. "Another white van, California license, LZX 511 SD. We ran it. Registered to Hassan Shuri. No criminal record."
"That's interesting!" commented Barb.
"They're right," added ScrewBall. "Someone else has hacked into her system. Wait! She is sending an encrypted message to Moose. Okay I have cracked it. It's in a foreign language though."
"Let me see it!" said Gabby," It's Russian. It says the US has five Silver HAWK Missiles orbiting in space armed with nuclear war heads. She is also asking for money and escape documents."
"I didn't even know about those orbiting missiles !" exclaimed Barb. She immediately got on the line to Washington. She reported all she learned. She had a plan. She needed approval. Then she got on the phone to Col. Corrine Mayforth, explained the situation to her along with her plan.
" Sounds like a good plan." agreed Corrine. "I'll inform the general."
Terry left the condo for the base. Shura opened a dresser drawer and pull out a 9mm semi auto. Fifteen minutes later she left. Followed by the other white van. Earl and Theresa's van followed to Shadow Mountain Road. Shura's Mustang and the other white van were picked up and followed south on 395 by a blue Dodge Charger driven by Jim Lancaster and Joan Abbot. They followed her to Victorville to Carl Jr.'s at Hook and Armagosa.
Joan radioed into Barb. "She dumped the white trash bag into a white van, " she reported. California licence XGCLL53. Owned by Yuri Chavcovich . No criminal record."
" White van!" she exclaimed. "Why do they all have to be white? Thanks."
Fifteen minutes later Joan called in,"We were following her and that other van from Silver Lakes, but at a good distance since there was signal device on her. She was on on Mariposa. She pulled off the road and so did the van. She simply walked up to them and shot them in the head. Driver first and then his partner, both male. One cold cookie there Barb! "
"Excuse me boss, but she is getting another encrypted message from Moose." Screwball butted in. Here's the print out Lois.
Lois examined the print out and translated," Moose wants her to meet him in room 265 tomorrow evening at Hotel San Diego. It's located at 675 L Street."
"Lori can you get down there with your crew, get Moose out of that room, install your surveillance and monitoring equipment, and transmitt every thing here?" asked Barb.
"You bet!" answered Lori. "We'll be on our way in a half an hour."
"Excuse me again boss." butted in ScrewBall. "We're being hacked from two different sources. One's Chinese another is North Korean. Don't worry, all I am feeding them is a realistic bunch of crap."
"But how do they know we are monitoring Shura?" asked Barb.
" Gota' be a mole some where boss.! These guys are good, but they still have to know were working on this." answered ScrewBall.
Barb got back on the secure line to Washington and let them know the latest details. They approved her plan. They were also working on all possible leaks.
Barb got on the phone to API CEO of Engineering , Bert Corliss and API Chief of Security Sandra Leitow.
She explained just enough of the operation to give them background for her plan. "I will need a dummy simulator-repair computer and a couple of dummy Satans that work, but not like the real thing. That's in case a demo is needed some where in the op."
"The API Field Rep for the base can modify the simulator on location. No problem." answered Bert. "He will probably take the SHM-311. It is only the size of a brief case and looks like one. The API Rep is Myron Newton. Myron will tell Terry it's still good but is being replaced by a better one with an updated modification. He will let Terry put it into storage and do any necessary paper work so it won't get lost in the shuffle. Sooort of make it easy to steal. The dummy Satans are no problem either. We can get them ready to go tonight. They will be imprinted with the same serial numbers as two in storage at Edwards. Don't get them mixed up pulling the 'old switcheroo'."
"We will have those Satans to Edwards by tomorrow morning." replied Sandy Leitow "Good luck".
Barb called Col. Mayforth. " I"ll send Terry on a mission to March Air Reserve Base , to get him out of the way for a couple of days. This will give us time to set up his theft attempt-- to slyly open the door for him. "
"Thanks for your help and cooperation." answered Barb." I hope this works."
The trap and sting has now begun at Edwards AFB. Mean while things were cooking at Twentynine Palms.

Monday, October 4, 2010



Mike and Chuck checked out the three bodies. "Smith brothers", said Chuck.
"Yeah!" answered Mike looking at Chuck. "These three plus Dusty. You and me almost got um all. Two in prison. We put em there."

"Still locked up? asked Chuck.
"Yep!" answered Mike." "Gettin' out next year", he added.
"Think they'll come fur us?" he asked.
"Reckon so", answered Mike.
"One of us will hav ta kill em." said Chuck.
"Reckon so. " said Mike.
"Or both of us." said Chuck.
"Or both." answered Mike.
Sandy and Vicki drove up in a one horse buggy. The women looked at the bodies and the dead mule. Vicki ran to her husband Mike, and gave him a big hug and a passionate kiss. . "I was so scared when we heard gun fire coming from over here!" she exclaimed. " Thank God you are alive!"
Sandy hugged her twin brother. "Wow!" she exclaimed. " "You're lucky to be alive! Geeze! They shot Ted!" looking at the big mule.
Ronnie Masters, Juan Morales, Jose' Ortega, Sumner Wilson, the three very tired US Marshals, and Levi King rode up. "You fellas alright?" asked Frank.
"We're fine, but fur the mule" answered Chuck "Storm commin' in and got ta bury the mule. Looks like a bad one commin' too."
"We are goin' after um!" replied Frank.
"Be careful!" warned Mike. "They might ambush ya up ahead aways." Three miners came out from town to help bury the mule.

The posse didn't get far. They had to find shelter quickly. They found it in an abandoned mining camp 10 miles above Lane's Crossing. Because one hour after leaving Chuck, Sandy, Mike and Vicki the storm hit and hit hard. The rain was intense, strong winds made it worse. Lightning lit up the black and blue sky. The dry washes became full of water. The Mojave River rushed wild and overflowed its banks. No one was going any where. John Woolf had to break camp and move his troupe into the high ground of town. Myron Newton' cattle spooked and scattered. Rounding them up would have to wait until daylight and calm weather. Everyone in the area had to hunker down and wait the storm. It would quit and start again. By morning the town was a muddy wet mess. No one was happy.
The prison wagon pulled over and made camp. Unfortunately they didn't post a sentry. It was foggy in the pass and the wind noisy. No one heard the shots as four US Marshals were killed. In the morning the mules were hitched to the wagon. It headed toward Oro Grande.
The land of the Mojave doesn't stay wet long. What doesn't percolate in its dusty, thirsty soil is eliminated by the hot dry winds. Puddles only last a couple of days or less and soon disappear. The dry washes empty and the river returns to calm as the overflow water recedes from the flood plain. In two days time everyone was back on the move.
US Marshal Frank Bastedo and his deputies Stephen Modzelesky, Andrew Gronau, and Don Leitow were not present when Ax and Hard Rock were released to the guards with the prison wagon. They had the badges and the paper work so Jeremy released them. If Frank and his men had been there, he would have seen the four prison wagon men as impostors. Instead the posse found the empty wagon three miles out of town, axle deep in semi dry mud, mule team gone and empty! The trail was hard to follow. The gang split up, then split up again in all directions.The trails disappeared whenever they reached stony, rocky ground.
Frank's loss of Ax and Hard Rock didn't sit well with his bosses and the politicians. They couldn't replace him because there was no one capable to replace him with. Although Frank and his deputies were instrumental in diminishing the size of both Parch's and Ax's gangs, his boss chewed him out anyway.
Two days later everything was dried out. Chuck and Sandy had already left. Myron Newton rounded up his cows and headed down the Cajon Pass to LA. John Woolf's troupe was also heading for LA. Jeremy and Stephen Lelliot turned in their badges. Jeremy joined John's troupe. Acting was for him. Stephen just wanted to go to LA, start a business, get away from violent gun fighting. Piute, Tomas, and Mario went back to their ranch-farms and the women they loved.
The night before they left Jeremy and Stephen were in the Wagon Wheel Tavern eating and drinking. The Wagon Wheel didn't cook its own food, but had it brought over from Sharon Taylor's "Rickety Ole' Cafe".
Sumner Wilson, the big Morman, and Dr. Claustre where there too. Cooks Suzan Bilton, Cheryl Meyer, Joan Abbot were taking orders and bringing in the food.

"Tell us the story about "Rufus The Jail House Rat!"
Sum sipped on his whiskey, swallowed the piece of steak in his mouth and began.
"In 1863 this mosquito infested swamp along Lake Michigan was called Brunson Harbor. That's the year Roscoe's dad, " Roscoe The Terrible" met the lady rat, Roscetta Lee at the camp's dump.. Their first litter was wiped out by rat bashers. The most famous of the rat bashing gangs was the Morrill, Mayforth, Lancaster Bunch. In 1865 the swamp was renamed Benton Harbor to honor Thomas Hart Benton, the foolish Missouri Senator that helped Michigan gain statehood. In 1866 the swampy camp was declared a village and Roscoe The Jail House Rat,( born in the village dump in in 1865), was a year old. One night the rat bashers wiped out Roscoe's friends and family. He took revenge by impregnating every female rat ready, willing and able. He was a very handsome rat and a good lover. He overran the village with his offspring. They ate all the garden veggies, and chewed the ropes holding the hams in the smoke house allowing, foxes wolves and coyotes to eat them . They ate the apples in the apple barrels, chewed holes in the feed bags and ate the grain. Rat poop was every where. They kept the women awake at night with their scratching. They urinated on the tables too. Finally Ward Morrill, Jim Lancaster and Russ Mayforth gave up and went West. They took their families, boarded a ship, rounded the Horn and came to California. Roscoe followed them all the way here. Every where they went, that pesky rat followed.
Then Roscoe met the prettiest Kangaroo Rat he had ever seen. He fell head over rat tail in love. He decided to put his roots down here in Oro Grande. First he wanted to take revenge. The night before Ward, Jim and Russ left , they had a party here in the Wagon Wheel. They ordered steak, biscuits, potatoes, and the Rickety Ole Cafe's famous cherry pie. Now Roscoe is no ordinary rat. He can understand English and make plans. He over heard the men talking about their going away party. The three didn't like California. Jim was heading for Oregon, Russ and Ward to different parts of Texas. Rat community leader Roscoe rallied his troops. Suzan Bilton and Cheryl Meyer were cooks that night. Every time the women turned their backs, Roscoe and his gang marinated the steaks with rat urine and the pooped in the pie. "
Cheryl, Suzan and Sharon didn't like the way the story was going. Their cooking reputations were on the line. Cheryl's hand creep slowly to the broom handle. Suzan picked up a cast iron pan. Sharon picked up a vase. Patron's moved away from the men. A possible bar fight was in the makins' and they wanted to be out of range of flying objects. Newspaper man and author Frank Allen Rogers and photographer Bert Corliss were eating at a table near the window. Frank was busy writing and Bert was looking at some of his pictures he wanted to show colleague Emily Grant. Newspaper editor Mike Lamb and artist Charlotte Bilton Carver were eating cherry pie and sipping coffee at another table. Charlotte sensed trouble.
"This better get better Sum, ifin' you know what ah mean. " warned a snarling Sharon.
"The men sat down at the table, ate their steak, drank their coffee and devoured the pie. They said it was the best steak they had ever ate. The flavorin', was really the best and wanted to know what Cheryl used. The pie and coffee really hit the spot. They gave all the women a big tip. "
The big Morman had finished his steak and had started on a huge piece of cheery pie. He shoved it away and looked sheepishly at it. Grabbing the pie and pulling it infront of him Sum said,' Ifin you don't want this pie.... . Then the big Morman realized it was a joke and let out a boisterous laugh. Everyone joined him. He grabbed his pie back from Sum.
"There's more," said Sum. "Now before he left Jim told me to make him handsome, rich and famous ifin' I ever used him in my tall stories. After the men left, funny things happen to them. Jim got so handsome from Sharon's food, he married a rich and beautiful lady, and became a famous shipping magnate. Russ became so smart that all the Texas politicians, bankers, land speculators and other crooks came to him for advice. Even President Grant asked his advice. Ward wanted to be fast at something. He became the fasted buggy driver in Texas. No one ever beat him in a race. He made a fortune betting on himself. Now that's not how Roscoe wanted things to end. It has made him mean. Ifin' you're in jail and don't keep your boots on, he'll get the toes. Ifin' ya don't keep your hands cupped over your privates, he's goin ta get your ....". That"s my Roscoe story." Everybody laughed and finished their meals, but not without some worry.
Before Frank Bastedo and his deputies left for San Bernadino, he got a break. A telegraph message from Fort Mojave indicated Parch and his gang was in Arizona. Did he wish to pursue? Frank wired back he did. So instead of going to San Bernadino , Frank, Stephen Modzelesky, Don Leitow and Andrew Gronau rushed for Fort Mojave on the Colorado River.
AX, Parch and the gang had a hideout in a canyon. This canyon was located in the foot hills of the Hualapai Mountains. Normally a good place to hide, it was a lousy place to defend. The Hualapai (People of the Tall Pine) were at war with the white man. Some of their leaders would periodically be murdered thus breaking all the attempts for peace. A brave warrior called Sherum was carrying out the present war with the white man. Ax's bunch set upon a couple of wagons driven by four Mexicans. Following behind this wagon were three captured Hualapai women. Their hands were tied to the back of the end wagon. They were forced to trail by foot. They would be sold to whomever met the price of their captors. The price the four Mexicans got was death.
The gang got inside the canyon. They thought they were safe. Black Patch, Ax, and Parch cut the three women loose. Each took one. "Time for a little fun." said Black Patch. But gun fire spoiled that idea. They were caught in a vicious cross fire of bullets. In less than thirty minutes most of the gang was dead. Wounded, with only one round left Black Patch put the Colt to his own head and fired. Ax, Parch and Hard Rock weren't so lucky. Hard Rock was buried alive up to his neck facing an ant hill. Parch and Ax were tied upside down on wagon wheels. Fires were made below their heads. Death would be painful. It was what they so often dished out. Now it was their demise.
When Frank and his deputies arrived at Fort Mojave, he was met by Army Captain Wes Platt. "We're in a war with the Hualapai." said Wes. They are being led by a capable warrior called Sherum. All they will give us is ten troopers, three scouts and a wagon plus driver. The breed Kotouk speaks fluent English. He's part Mojave, Mexican and Irish. He's a good tracker. What he says goes.
They left early the next morning. It was hot, dry and breezy. The scouts picked up the trail early. It took them into Hualapai land. They came across what was left of the four Mexicans. Buzzards, coyotes, ravens and flies didn't leave much. They went on. Toward late afternoon they found the canyon. The scouts conferred and wouldn't allow the troop to enter.
"Sherum and his warriors are above in the boulders," Kotouk told Captain Platt. Many more than us. Not a good place to fight." he added. They could see the bodies of Parch and Ax, faces contorted, skulls split open from the heat, brains dripping into the hot coals. "They want us to see this. This is revenge for killing all their people and taking their land. Always save one bullet for yourself or this might happen to you!" Kotock warned.
Sherum's warriors appeared in the rocks . They fired at the group. "Stand firm !" warned the burly Master Sergeant. "They want us to run in there. They'll cut us to pieces."
"We won't give them a fight today !" said Captain Platt. "Let's move out!" he ordered. They stopped only to water and rest their horses. When they got to the safety of Fort Mojave, Frank wired his superiors. " Ax, Parch and their men are no more. "




Tuesday, September 28, 2010




The Silver HAWK Missile SS1A is the deadliest missile any country has developed to date. It's range is dependent on the amount of fuel and the type and size of its war head. It is capable of entering outer of space and orbiting earth, circling our planet receiving and sending signals like a satellite until asked to perform its very deadly function- to swoop down like a hawk and destroy its prey. It can act out the role of a surface to surface missile or it can operate as a surface to air. It can shoot down the smallest of planes, other ICBMs, or drop a bomb into Moscow or Tehran with ease. It is stealthy. It's special fuel leaves no vapor tail. It travels twice the speed of sound. It has a computer memory so superior it could override the defenses of other missiles, fighter and/ or airline passenger planes. If detected it supersonic evasive maneuvers easily lose any missile sent to destroy it. The electricity required to run the radar unit for the mobile field combat units was a quiet gas, home-type generator. The Silver HAWK SS1A is so complicated and balanced ,each new modification or improvement creates several more. Weight, strength,endurance and longevity are extremely critical. It was the fastest, most sophisticated and complicated missile system in the world . Hard to modify easy to fix. It would tell a technician by lights, beeps or gauges which component or circuit was defective. All the technician had to do would simply replace a chassis.
In simulation test it took on all our best jets including the Lockheed Martin F-35 Strike II Fighter. The US Military had no defense of its own to counter act it. When Washington heard this, word came from the Secretary Of Defense and the President," Do not let other countries have this missile. Do not let it fall into the hands of any country nor our allies. Keep it Top Secret!"
This was naturally not completely possible. Two other world powers were involved. Great Britain and Japan. Both countries were co-owners. Both had their own versions of this missile, modified to fit their need. It was the same missile alright but different. But fortunately both countries were extremely stingy with information about their own particular modification.

The Silver Hawk Radar System

It's radar system is remarkable example of US engineering technology. Small, compact, mobile, easily disguised, single unit that can transmit and receive. Once locked on to a target, it stays locked on until the HAWK makes its kill or is released by a qualified technician. The field electricity for the mobile units is supplied by a quiet ,simple, home type generator one could buy at Lowe's or Home Depot. In field combat, the battery would have several radar units disguised in different ways. If one would be taken out in an air strike or by enemy infiltrators , another would take it's place. An enemy air strike would probably not happen. The air craft or incoming missile would definitely be detected and destroyed well away from the battery. In combat sentries and infantry protection would be critical.
The Top Secret Silver HAWK is manufactured by Atom Power Industries (API) INC. of Riverside, California.

Many countries know it exists. They need to develop something to counter it. The world balance of power has now shifted to the US, Britian and Japan.If a mad man/woman gained control of the one of these three governments, he/she could dictate world policy, threaten and back it up.


The new Top Secret Satan SS-3 shoulder fired missile is also a gem of US engineering technology developed by API. It is in fact its little sister. Although it has a radar system of its own, a simple device that looks like a satellite cell phone can be attached. It allows the launcher to tap into the Silver HAWK's radar system. Using its own radar gives it a reliably accurate range of 50 miles. Using a special fuel and the HAWK's system it boost that range to around a hundred miles. It also can penetrate the defenses of in coming targets including enemy missiles. It also can be used surface to surface or surface to air. So far no country had a defense to counter it. A very dangerous shoulder fired missile. One our enemies dearly want to get their hands on.


As you can imagine the importance of these two missiles to our National Defense. The technicians have to be highly trained and dedicated. They all have high Top Secret Security Clearances. Each one is watched or monitored. The watchers report to high ranking military brass. They are watched too. The engineers and technicians of API are also watched. The watchers report to company executives and to Homeland Security. The problem is no one is watching the watchers.


One such watcher was Homeland Security Special Agent Barbara Allen. She was brought in from Florida to monitor Silver HAWK technicians at Edwards Air Force Base in California's High Mojave Desert. She was given a big beautiful 5 bedroom two story home on Lakeview Drive overlooking one of the Silver Lakes in Helendale, California. Four of her spacious bedrooms were filled with high tech computers, listening equipment and an assortment of video equipment that actually allowed her to see those she watched if they appeared in the radius of the hidden, camouflaged cameras. She was in charge of a staff of five people who also lived in homes or condos in Silver Lakes.


RONALD PERKINS: A very skilled hacker. Code name "ScrewBall".
SHERRY MENSINGER: Equipment technician. She can fix anything in that house, including the plumbing. Code name Tinker Bell
CHARLOTTE BILTON CARVER Grapic artist. She can make anything video look like something else or recover damaged pictures or videos. Code name Cricket.
MIKE LAMB: Hand writing expert. Document authenticator. Counterfeit money expert. Code name Cougar.
LOIS LENTZ: Voice imitator. Linguist. Speech therapist. Code name Gabby.
Working under cover at Edwards AFB was Airman Rolaine Winter, Silver HAWK Missile Technician. Code name Spider.


SARGENT HARLY BOLT JR.: Undercover Silver HAWK radar technician. Code name DUCK.
EILEEN E. BOLT: Department of Defense Special Agent and computer expert. Wife of Sargent Harly Bolt Jr. Code named Blossom.
Corrine Mayforth: Captain, USMC, Harly Bolt's commanding officer.
Jack Closson: Special Agent, US Dept. of Defense. Eileen Bolt's Supervisor . Code name Storm.

Stealing information about these two missiles would be a big challenge for any spy. It wasn't like the old days when you could lay your hands on books or pages of schematics or even sneak a shoulder fired missile out the door in a crate. Today it took skill and creativity. The Technicians of the 2000's used computer disks, meters and simulators with screens, probes or alligator clips and rarely even that. The HAWK and Satan were self diagnostic. If a check needed to be made, the technician opened a chassis door. Lights, gauges, and beeps warned of a malfunction. The malfunctioning chassis or circuit board would simply be removed. Since they usually cost more to repair or couldn't be repaired they were destroyed. The video on a monitor screen replaced the old paper schematic for the more complicated jobs.
Security was tight. No cameras, brief cases , unauthorized containers, packages, lap tops, cell phones or people were allowed access to any missile compound . Everyone who entered or left was thoroughly searched. To steal anything would involve the cooperation of the guards, technicians or military officers. Hackers could and did succeed at times at getting into classified programs. However, they were immediately detected and didn't get much. Yet some valuable information concerning the design and operation was getting out to interested foreign governments. It was the job of the above mentioned people to find out how and to stop it.


The 1st Light Anti Aircraft Missile Battalion (LAAMBN) is the only missile battalion in the US Marine Corps. It is so secret no one knows it exists but those with high Top Secret clearance. It is basically experimental. There were many at the Pentagon who didn't believe it was necessary or efficient for the Corps to have such a weapon. For that reason the Marine Corps was only allowed the scaled down Silver Hawk CV SS-21. They also agreed that the Corps should have a a version of the Satan SS-1. The Satan SS-1 A3, the older hand me down from the US Army.
The CV SS-21 was smaller, more compact, fully mobile, but didn't have the range of its big sister the SS1A. It didn't have the capability to enter outer space, orbit and wait. It could shoot down ICBMs, sophisticated modern fighter jets, penetrate civilian passenger airliner defenses, or blow up tanks, cars or buildings. Because of the cost, the CVSS-21 wasn't modified as often as SS1A. Nevertheless, it could still lob a nuclear warhead into Tehran or Moscow. It was virtually impossible to shoot down. No country currently had a defense against it. Other countries were desperate to get their hands on one.
The 1St LAAMBN battery was located in an isolated south west corner of the base. It was a restricted area. The 30 acre perimeter was fenced with 10 foot high chained link. The top was lined with razor wire. The motor pool and parking lot were located within this fence. An fortified guard shed was located at the gate entrance. A huge two story white block building housed the mobile missile unit and was home to the guards and technicians.
This building and a warehouse, also white, where behind a similar chain linked fence reinforced with razor wire. It too had a gate with a fortified guard shed. Parking around the outer perimeter wasn't allowed. The parking lot was one hundred yards away. Techs, military brass, guards and API engineers had to walk from there. Security was tight. Everyone was searched coming and going at both guard gates. It was impossible to smuggle information, parts and equipment out. Every thing essential going in or out was thoroughly inspected.




Monday, September 27, 2010

Part IV Jail Break-ORO Grande 1867 Ist Attempt


When Marshal Bastedo and his men arrived at Point of Rocks, stage coach driver, Jack Closson brought him a telegraph message from Fort Mojave. John (Ax) Hinton's brother Morris "Parch" Hinton was raiding and killing in Arizona. He was chased into California by the U.S. Army. He disappeared. Where abouts unknown. " I saw his right hand man "Black Patch" in Grape Vine (Barstow) yesterday while the horses were being changed. Everybody's been talkin' bout Ax and Snake being held in the Oro Grande jail. He's bound ta know." he spoke as he wiped his spectacles. " Bet he tries to break them out." he speculated.

Frank got a worried look on his face. He told his men about the message. "We have to forget about the loot in the cave, for now." he said. "We have to get back to Oro Grande. Parch won't let his brother hang. He will try to spring those men before they get to San Bernadino.
Back in Oro Grande, Sum and Marshal Stephen Modzelesky received the same message from Fort Mojave. One hour later they received one from Frank Bastedo telling them operation at the Shadow Mountain Cave was a success and they were on their way to help keep the prisoners secured. Jack Closson, High Desert Harry, Mike Trux and a Mojave Native American called Apple Jack went to the cave to recover any loot. High Desert Harry and Apple Jack were good at handling rattlesnakes.
There were plenty of good guns to help guard the prisoners at Oro Grande. Ron Masters, James T. Hall. Levi King and Jose' Morales came in from Point of Rocks. Chuck Hires and cattle drover Myron Newton volunteered also. The jail was surrounded at all hours.
Snake was dying. New boils appeared and became seriously infected. The stumps where his big toes once were became infected. He was a glob of smelly pus. His cell stunk. Infact the whole small jail stunk. All Dr. Claustre could do for him was keep him sedated with laudanum ( tincture of opium). He died at noon.
Flat Head kept having bad headaches and seizures . The head aches got so bad he would scream. He took a bad seizure and also died an hour after Snake. That left Ax and Hard Rock. Hard rock was suffering from head aches too from being hit by Stephen Lelliot's gun barrel, but not as badly as Flat Head did. Dr. Claustre treated him with laudanum. He responded well. Too well. It made the good doctor wonder if he was faking just to get more.
John Woolf's troupe was going to put on a big performance at their river camp during the evening cool down. Everyone wanted to go but couldn't, so they agreed to stay one more day and do another one. Myron Newton wanted to see the first one, because a woman he once loved and maybe still loved was in the show. He asked to take one of the evening shifts. He told Marshal Bastedo and Sum," I think I met John Woolf in the early 1860's in Lincoln, Nebraska when I was driving cattle into town. I fell in love with one of his troupe. The local Native Indians called her " Blaye zitkataca hustola" but the white men called her Clover. She was an innocent beauty. I being a dirty, rugged, bearded, cow boy scared her off. She fled to her people.. Smitten badly and foolish like most men in love , I followed her all the way to what would become Rushville. She took a turn north. She had to know I was following her. I only got a couple of miles before I was met and captured by her tribe. She was promised to "Walks With The Wind". Until Piute, Mario and Tomas, he was the fiercest warrior I had ever met. Clover would not let them kill me. I spent a month with the tribe. Then I was allowed to just ride away. Got out alive. Watched Clover marry "Walks With The Winds" before I left. Broke my heart, so I moved further west. Walks With The Winds got killed, I heard in a raid on a wagon train passing through their land." Agreeable, Sum put him on the shift after the show.
"Fightin' Mike " Parker, former sheriff of San Bernadino was in town with his beautiful wife Vicki to see the performance. They were staying at the Inn Oro Grande. He wanted to visit his friend and former deputy Chuck Hires while Vicki and Sandy watched the first show. He and Myron would take the same shift.
Unknown to any body, Parch's men were in town scouting out the jail, guards and lay of the land. "There's too many guns in town!" reported Black Patch. "It would get us all killed attacking the jail. I don't like it. No sir not one bit."
"Cain't help it!" retorted Parch. "He's my brother. Cain't let him hang. We'll hit them hard and fast. Get in, get out, real fast like. We have 16 men including you and me. You come in from the south with six and I'll come in from the north with six. Your men lead two extra horses and and mine will lead the other two.
"Only two left, I saw them take out two bodies. An ole' drunk told me it was Snake and Flat Head!" reported Lefty Hodge. They's John Woolf's troupe in town too. They plan on givin' a show in the cool tanite. Most extra guns will be there. Two guards inside, two in the back. One up street, one down.
"Good!" replied parch." Makes the job easier. Do it quick."
In the mean time, the prison wagon was lumbering up the Cajon Pass. It would be in Oro Grande around noon. Only a driver, shot gun, and two mounted guards. Not the six previously promises.
As expected John's group drew a huge crowd.The eloquent Lori Doddington Singer wowed the crowd by singing songs such as "As With Gladness Men of Old" and "Champagne Charlie". The beautiful Dana Robertson and her husband Chad drew huge applause with their trapeze act. Lori added to it by singing "The Daring Young Man On The Flying Trapeze". Frank Woolf, Clover, Molly Ervin Moroney, and Chris Cook performed a play about Pocahontas and Captain John Smith to a standing ovation. Angie Swinger (Mama Bear), Sharon Taylor, Carol Himes Curneal and Suzan Bilton cooked up a huge feast people fed upon as they watched. As the show ended for the evening gun fire was heard in town. Lots of gun fire.
They came in fast as planned. The town was virtually empty because of John's show. The cafe and taverns were closed. Except for the guards and a few stragglers, mainly drunks Oro Grande was a ghost town. Ronnie Masters sat up town on the board walk with his specially made, old English Fowler 8 gauge shot gun. The percussion muzzle loader had a 44" barrel. " Closest thing to carrying a cannon", he said. An 1858 Sharps Repeating Rifle leaned on the wall next to him. He wore a Navy Colt on his hip. There was a wagon in front in case he needed cover.
Down stream from the jail, close to an alley between two buildings, Levi King leaned back on two legs of a chair whittling a doll for his daughter. He had a Remington Roll Back Rifle, and a Henry Repeater next to him. Like Ron he wore a Navy Colt on his hip. In back of the building, Deputy Marshals Andrew Gronau ans Don Leitow stood watch. They were tired but wanted the duty. They were armed with Army Colts and Winchester Repeaters.

Inside was the big Morman with his double barrel 11 gauge shot gun. It was also like carrying a cannon. Town Marshal and Special Sheriffs Deputy Sumner Wilson was with him. Both men were armed with Army Colts. Sum had a couple of Winchester and Remington Rifles handy.The Mormon and Sum had fortified the front and side doors with heavy iron cross bars. Of course all the windows were barred.
Parch and his men only carried Colt Revolvers and a lot of them for this job. They planned to fire until empty, discard and switch to another loaded revolver. Oh they had plenty of Winchester Repeaters hidden outside town. They would pick them up as they fled to to mountains.
They came in quickly and shooting hard. Ron Masters knocked one off right away with the old muzzle loading 8 gauge. The gun fire was so intense, he had to take cover under the wagon. At the other end Levi fired and missed. He too had to take cover. The gang pulled up in front of the jail. One rider dismounted and tried to kick in the plank door. He could see Ax and Hard Rock shackled in their cells. The couldn't shoot into the jail and risk killing the prisoners. The door wouldn't give. They were taking fire. The man was shot several times as he tried to mount. The gang wheeled their horses around and fled south. One had his horse shot out from under him. He quickly swung into one of the spare horses they had brought along. By the time they reached the south end of town, three of Parch's men, three horses and two innocent by standers were sprawled out dead in the street.
Outside town Chuck Hires and Mike Parker were examining Chuck and Sandy's horses and mules when they heard all the gun fire in town. Chuck grabbed Sandy's Remington Roll Back rifle. Mike drew his Navy Colt. The gang came upon the camp riding hard. They put out a heavy volley of gun fire at the men. One shot killed a mule. The two took cover under the wagon. Mike dropped one with two shots from his Colt. Chuck knocked another off his horse with a shot from the Remington. He got up wounded, firing his Colt. Chuck and Mike fired at him simultaneously. Both men hit the fallen rider, knocking him into the the rutted trail. One of the other riders William, "Wild Willy" Smith recognized the two ex-lawmen. They had caught one of his brothers, Dusty Smith and put him in jail. A judge found Dusty guilty of murder and horse stealing. He hung in the San Bernadino gallows two weeks later . Mike and Chuck had just now killed another brother, Calvin Smith. Wild Willy angrily wheeled his horse around and charged the two men. Again Mike and Chuck fired simultaneously hitting Wild Willy with four shots. He fell from his horse dead. The gang pulled up, spun around and looked. Not wanting to loose any more men, Parch turned the gang and fled. Six members of Parch's gang died in an unsuccessful attempt to save his brother. He would have to try another method. He had a plan.

This Story Is Fiction. Don't Miss Part V.