Plan C?
Paula, “We have one more trick up our sleeve.”
More Radio talk with Musk control in Texas. Gets clearance for “Go” through the Digital-to-Analog Security Module (DASM) radio-thingy. Paula and the ‘Boys get very excited and jump into typing keyboard commands on LESSS, moving plugin devices from Earp to LESSS and back, looking up in the sky, making wind readings. And scrap booking this is nobody.
I moved back down to the tent so Lisa — Dr. Brookes — can finish patching me up. Twenty minutes later, we hear more yelling and come back out, climb up the dune again only now the sun is ripping down on us, like a butane blow torch on an ant hill. Everyone is taking refuge in the large hide covering, tent in size, and quite welcoming now that its late afternoon.
I haven’t kept up on the latest developments, but we’ve got clearance for something. More explosive pods? Perhaps a cruise missile or a fighter aircraft is going to drop a few 500-pound H.E. bombs and the ‘Boys are going to guide them in? Cool.
Paula whips out her smart device, got her flight app running and began hitting options and what not. I can’t really see in detail what she’s doing but it’s intense. Someone yelled, and we all look south. Way, way off in the distance we see something. A speck really. Based on her device, it must be another pod.
The speck gets a little larger. I’m thinking a B-52 strike? No. No need to come in so low. A Fighter? One of Paul’s Space Command buddies or Naval Aviator friends is “off course” and might just drop something?
I look around, but no one is saying a word. The near head-on view silhouette looks like it could be any aircraft. Is it even American?
It gets closer and closer and is starting to look familiar. And that’s no pod. I rub my eyes in disbelief. Holy you-know-what!? It’s the Dragon!
Dragon Attack!
“Who’s flying it!?”, I asked anyone listening.
“Texas! It’s on remote control. We started evacuating crews three days ago. We’re the last one’s off. Now shut up.”, commanded Paula.
Well, that explains a few mysteries.
Hey, dig it! Paula told me to shut up!
Paula, then with a final, ceremonial-like touch of her smart device with her index finger, “And now I have control.”
Approaching at a medium angle, not low as if it’s landing or high like a WWII Stuka dive bomber, the Dragon resembles an unsure raptor wobbling in to snag prey for the very first time. Paula’s fingers are working the device like some Ivy League freshman on Red Bull and cocaine; glancing up every few moments to see if the Dragon is reacting to her commands. One of her crew is acting as a spotter and Paula nods every so often — it’s an awesome teamwork demonstration. Based on their calm and cool demeaner, the Dragon must be obeying. If it’s not: Don’t come in low! Fingers and toes crossed! Don’t come in low!
Oh, man! It looks like it’s going to come right over us — or at us — it’s hard to tell. My heart rate just up-shifted from chipmunk to panicked chipmunk. I look around for something that will save me at the last second — just sand everywhere and a few tents! Sorry, I’m a little nervous because the margin of error doesn’t look like it’s running in our, my, favor.
The team, that’s Paula and her co-pilot, the wise-cracking Jones, who seems to have her confidence, are talking calmly while her skilled fingers dance over the device. Tom is calling out something from the LESSS. Others are staring at the monitor. Me? I’m watching a weird looking bird grow in the sky and, one step at a time, moving closer to Paula.
Finally, I’m able to peak over her shoulder. My God, these people are smart. Paula is visually guiding the Dragon in on the still remaining bright heat signatures — brilliant white blobs — left by the shuttle pod explosions striking and penetrating the sandy ground!
Big Boom
The Dragon struck the plant. It looked like the facility just sucked it in. We heard a thump — check that — a really, really, big thump!
Delay.
Then Ka-boom! No, no, more like, Kaaaaaaaaaaa-Boooooooooooom! Regardless, it was big. Nagasaki big.
The UN Eco oil plant turned into a giant fireball. We felt the heat from our outpost. Some of our equipment started to smolder and curl on the edges. We grabbed everything and chucked it down the dune.
Wow! Is that heat ever strong! Trying to watch became impossible. Paula gave the order to evacuate, and we threw what we could into vehicles, piled up everything else, and as we departed, one of the SOF boys tossed a couple thermite grenades under the collage of tents, hide material, tables, chairs, and other junk. Off we drove as the heap started burning like a 4th of July gone bad.
We sped and bumped to a wide open, flat, hot airfield of red clay. Two shuttle pods are sitting there. Nothing else visible in any direction. Minutes later, in came Paula’s jet. We abandon the vehicles and climb aboard while the same operator runs out and tosses a thermite grenade into each shuttle pod. I got a bourbon in my hand before he returned from his 300-yard run back.
Double bang! Both pods’ emergency ejection systems explode and the pods arch into the air, flaming and smoking. It’s beautiful really!
We take off and make an air B-line for Texas.
A Few Weeks Later
Dragon II is being prepped for a towed-JATO launch. Paula is the commander.
Musk-eteers and Paula knew Dragon II was nearly ready for launch, so ending the service life of Dragon I wasn’t so hard. Apparently, Dragon I had some structural problems and was about to come apart. Dragon II has a lot of improvements over Dragon I. One is fixing the big ramjet vibration issue. Engineers were finally able to accurately model the vibration problem and come up with a rework for Dragon II.
Lisa, Dr. Brookes as you know her, and I had a date. Ok, it was a medical checkup. That’s a date! She’s seeing an SOF dude. Dang. But she did mention a roommate — I’m game.
I only spoke with Paula once after getting back. She thanked me, and I told her how proud I was of her, and her crew, and how proud I was to serve with them. Yeah, I know, kind of the Nuremberg defense equivalent for second place dating, again. Please shut up.
I, also, congratulated her on her new assignment and she kissed my cheek. I haven’t washed it in weeks.