As Chick was falling to the floor, Jud Tyler was racing Carlisle to the car. They had picked up the word of the attack almost as it happened, the alert bartender at Torito's dialing the new terrorist code into their phone, 999. Jud was behind the wheel now, and as he backed out of their slot in the Blue Cube parking lot, Carlisle was already getting more information via the Santa Clara PD's "white line" radio channel. This was the county-wide cooperative line used for both fire and police units in cooperation.
"Tac 4, this is Leader 1. We are en-route. Any information on preps leaving the scene?" asked Carlisle.
"Standby Leader 1. All units on frequency, standby, 3 Mary 6 is in pursuit."
They waited the interminable time for the motorcycle unit to complete his report, then the SCPD dispatcher came back on. "Leader 1, Dispatch. Your suspects are proceeding southbound on Keily, crossing Calabazas. 3 Mary 6 is in high-speed pursuit."
"Roger Dispatch. Permission to pass traffic to 3 Mary 6 on this frequency."
"Roger Leader 1, all stations standby for Leader 1."
"3 Mary 6, Leader 1. Use extreme caution. Follow, but do not approach. These guys still have a number of missile rounds. Copy?"
"Absolutely Leader 1. I'll give 'em plenty of room."
"Roger. Dispatch, Leader 1, do we have an air unit available."
"Roger, Air 14 is en-route to pursuit, ETA, 2 minutes."
"Ok Dispatch. Move 14 to this frequency. Leader 1 back."
"Roger. All units, 3 Mary 6 in is pursuit of 1976, white Chevrolet no window van, license, 134 King Victor David. Pursuit is high-speed, southbound Keily, last position Calabazas. Any unit in area in area respond."
"4 Baker 10, El Camino and San Tomas en-route."
"Traffic 3, Keily and Homestead en-route up Keily."
"Roger, Traffic 3, Seargent requests you cordon all lanes Keily at Benton, Copy?"
"Roger, Dispatch, Traffic 3."
A mile south of the speeding van, Steven Graves, a reserve officer responsible for checking on traffic around the schools in the South side of Santa Clara, gulped as he digested the orders he had just received. Cordon off 4 traffic lanes as well as the center turn lane marked with yellow lines. A good 60 feet of roadway. His only choice would be to use civilian cars. Making his decision, he spun his big Chevrolet in the center of the intersection, and jumped out of the car. He waved oncoming traffic down, and luckily got a car to swerve, his breaks placing the car in perfect position. Quickly he urged the driver out and within seconds he had a very nice looking collection of cars blocking the way, almost as if an accident was blocking all lanes. Just as he had ordered the last driver out of the car, he heard a squealing of breaks and looked up ahead to see the blue and red flashing lights through a cloud of smoke as the white van, seeing the blockage, spun a u-turn and headed up over a lawn and back toward the intersection of El Camino and Keily.
But that way was quickly becoming blocked. Just
when it looked like the only exit left was the a side
street between El Camino and Benton, Chopper 14 came
waltzing out of the street, hanging just a few feet
off the ground. They had him!
With a smile Steven Graves congratulated himself on his quick action. Why he'd probably get a commendation for making the capture possible. But then something began to bother him. The van slammed its brakes on, and as the nose dipped, he noticed that the police units didn't approach, and the chopper swerved back and up, almost as if the pilot were panicked. Then as the van turned to the right, he saw the reason why. Hanging out the right hand passenger's window, a figure could be seen holding a long black shape. As the van finished its turn around, the tube became visible to Steve. Suddenly he realized that the $8.50 per hour reserve pay was not enough to pay for this. With a shout, he jumped back over the side of one of the cars hoping to shield himself.
"Shit!" was the last sound he utterred as he felt rather than heard the approach of the Redeye shoulder rocket.
With a blinding explosion, the police unit in the center of the street lit up like a roman candle, its fuel tank and metal combining into a huge bomb aided by the large smooth cased fragmentation warhead of the little rocket. The impact of explosion dug a twelve foot crater in Keily Blvd, and blew the other five cars in all directions. With a sweeping motion, the last car cleared the street of onlookers and the drivers who had vacated their cars, killing four and injuring seven.
With a roar of its engine, the white van blasted through the intersection making use of the lanes now so horridly clear.
"Traffic 3 is gone, Dispatch" came the cracked voice of the chopper pilot.
"Dispatch, Leader 1. No more cute tricks. Units to follow only."
"All units, Leader 1 advises surveillance only. Suspects are heavily armed. Leader 1, Dispatch. We have SWAT 4 on Tac 3."
"Roger, Dispatch, Leader 1 to Tac 3."
"SWAT 4, Leader 1."
"Go."
"Rog. Any suggestions on how to stop a guy with a rocket."
"Use a bigger rocket."
"Copy. Standby."
Jud looked over at Carlisle as he fiddled with the radio, and then spoke again.
"Knight One, this is Leader 1."
"Knight One."
"We have a mission. Map handy?"
"Rog."
"Okay, Keily Blvd moves south through Santa Clara, from Central to Saratoga Blvd. Your target is a white van, two SCPD units well behind. Guarentee he'll hit the freeway any minute. Can you get here?"
"Already in the air, Leader 1. ETA about 2."
"Rog."
Jud banked the big Ford around the corner at Lawerence and 280, blowing the light and ran up onto highway 280. In a few minutes they would be close to the action.
"Leader 1, Knight One. We just caught sight of the police units. No sighting on the van yet. Standby...Okay we've got him Leader 1. Suggestions?"
"Follow for now. I'll let you know."
Switching the radio, Carlisle spoke again, "Dispatch Leader 1. Federal Authority Two, all units to terminate pursuit, I repeat all units to terminate pursuit, Copy?"
"Roger Leader 1. All units Leader 1 terminates pursuit, repeat, terminate pursuit."
Then a different voice came on, a tired older man's voice, "All units, Captain Davis. Stand-down, terminate the pursuit. Let the federallies have it guys, your out-gunned."
From the air, Knight One's pilot could see the van twist around the corner of Saratoga and Keily, then squirt the short two blocks to the freeway entrance, the black and white police units slamming on their brakes.
"Leader 1, Knight One. He's westbound 280."
"Damn!" hissed Jud as saw the huge black chopper dip and bank to follow the van ahead, then they watched helplessly as they both screamed past going the opposite direction. Jud careened across three lanes and took the Saratoga exit off, and following the same path the van had, bounced back onto 280 now in the proper direction.
"Knight One, Leader One. Back off a bit, and let him run a little. Let's see where's he going."
In the air the pilot of Knight One, grinned to himself, and then made a motion with his elbow to his copilot, who nodded.
The co-pilot pulled down a visor from above his
head, and flicked a toggle switch on the bank of
controls just above his forehead. A bright red dot
appeared on his eye as he sighted on the van. When
finally convinced he was lined up correctly he
flicked a toggle on the control column and a red dot
appeared on the van. The pilot now pulled off, half
collective and the chopper began to lift higher, soon
well out of sight. But the red dot automatically
stayed un-erringly on the van as it swerved lane to
lane towards San Francisco on highway 280. The
copilot switched to infrared designator and the red
dot disappeared. With a press of the firing key, the
copilot or pilot could easily fire their own rocket
at their target.
"Leader 1, Knight One. We have target fully designated, he's not going anywhere without us."
"Rog. We are in a white Ford sedan, just passing Lawrence and 280. Do you have us?"
"Rog. You are approximately two miles behind the target. Target is now at 80 plus."
"Copy, target rolling at 80. Keep us close."
"Copy."
Jud was impressed. This is the kind of
surveillance they should have in all police choppers.
Like the movie "Blue Thunder", high tech choppers
made remarkable police weapons. In this case, they
would be able to track their suspects with their ever
knowing that they were being followed.
"Leader One, Knight One. Target is moving over
to right hand lanes, may be getting ready to exit."
"Roger."
In a few moments as Jud and Carlisle passed the Wolfe Road exit, they heard, "Yep. Target is taking highway to the NorthEast, Standby we'll get the number for you."
High above Jud and Carlisle, the co-pilot of the chopper used the scene magnification of the Maverick Missile tucked under the pylon of the chopper to look down at the highway as it wound below. In a few minute he saw the flash of a highway sign.
"Highway 85" he reported, and Jud moved over to the right passing a small Porsche doing about 90 miles an hour, the driver looking over in shock at the two in the seemingly sedate sedan.
Then as he blasted into the wide turn of the small two lanes of the NE bound portion of 85, he swerved around an old pickup truck. Then screamed past the truck as it must have been idling along at 40 or 45.
Still they were falling behind, as the Van was
making good time due to a lucky chance of having no-
one in front of them for the moment.
"Leader 1, you're losing ground. Target is now at El Camino and 85. Looks like he'll get some traffic soon though."
"Rog" answered Carlisle with a look at Jud, but the man was concentrating on his weaving in and out of cars, trying to keep the 80 plus MPH he knew he needed to average to catch up.
"Okay, target is exiting 85, now heading toward Moffett."
"Damn" said Carlisle. They had now gone full circle. Soon the van would be driving by the very place they had started from.
"Okay, he's slowing down. Blending in. We still have him. He's turning again. He's in the business park across the highway from Moffett. Call us when you hit Mathilda exit, we'll direct you from there."
"Rog, coming up on it now," reported Carlisle as they swerved off 85, and along the slight chicane of the Mathilda off ramp. Taking the 237 fork, then rolled up and over Mathilda and sped along at a solid 90 towards the huge Hanger One sticking up from Moffett.
"Okay, the target is stopping. We'll back off from him now, we know where he is," reported the pilot, as he gently added another 2000 feet and backed the chopper away enough to put a building between the van and the chopper. Hopefully the terrorists would not notice the sound of a chopper out of the ordinary in area surrounding the Navy's Moffet Naval Air Station.
Since they were off to the side of the pattern, the pilot radioed into Moffett their intentions, and he knew that the P-3s landing would be told to keep any eye out for them, but that would be the extent of their intrusion.
"Okay Leader 1 is on 237."
"Roger we have you, go through first light. Now take the next left. Okay your target is two blocks to the right on the very next street."
"Rog, we'll cruise by."
Jud forced himself to take a breath and turned the radio up. He and Carlisle practiced a couple of hearty laughs, the radio heard above their chortles. Then before they knew it they laughed their way past the van, and a bolt of lightning struck Jud's heart as they passed. A small Electronic company parking lot is where the van was parked, and Jud recognized it as a small chain of electronic stories exclusive to the bay area. In Palo Alto, the manager was an arabic speaking immigrant who had several times been harrased by INS agents for hiring Iranian's without work permits. Could this be a front for agents infiltrating the valley?
Then Jud saw a welcome sight. A brand new sandwich shop had just opened up, the Grand Opening banners streaming across the entrance, not more than a hundred feet from the Van.
Carlisle noticed it too and motioned him into the parking lot. Slumping in the seat, he fiddled with the radio again, he made another important call.
"D-Leader, Leader 1."
"D-Leader."
"We have our suspects to ground I think. It's time to bring the crew in."
"Rog, I have the position from Knight One. ETA in fifteen."
"Hurry D-Leader, I don't think they'll stay here long."
"Rog. Look Leader 1, we don't know if they're in there. Go take a quick look but don't do anything stupid."
Carlisle bristled at that but took it well, or least that's what Jud thought. They got out of the car and ordered a sandwich at the window, one of them always with half an eye on the van. The sandwiches were tasteless to them as the andrenalin from the chase had coated their mouths with salt. As the time ticked away, they ordered a second can of coke each, hoping that they were not becoming too conspicuous. Then Jud noticed that the chopper had now shifted positions, obviously checking to see what the back of the place had to offer.
Carlisle slipped the little earphone to his belt unit out of his ear and handed it over to Jud. He then strolled over, sipping on the coke can, a small piece of his sandwich wedged in the other. He opened the door and vanished inside, all the while Jud's stomach rolled. He imagined that he'd never see Ray again. But in a few moments, Carlisle returned, a grin on his face.
"There's a back room, and they're all in their
having their lunch. I recognized the guy with the
blue denim shirt. He fits the description of the
fellow that fired the rocket at the couple in
Sunnyvale!"
"Leader 1, Knight One, ETA 2 minutes, get
yourselves ready. Suggest you fellows keep your head
down, were coming in three point, hard and fast."
Jud almost dropped the radio when it spoke, so
spooked was he now.
"Okay Jud", began Carlilse. "This place is going to be swarming with Delta Force. What say we get some innocents out of the way, discretely!"
"Right!"
Jud sauntered over to the window, and got the attendants attention. Flicking open his wallet he displayed his badge and said quietly,
"You got a back door". The young girl nodded with a puzzled look, then Jud spoke slightly louder,
"Okay this is Captain Tyler, Police. Move quickly and quietly to the back door and run toward Hanger One, you got it, get the hell outta here NOW!"
In in instant the little sandwich shop's crew vanished. A fellow was sitting out on one of the tables and Carlisle stepped around the corner, and flashing his badge so that only the man could see it he said,
"You, Sir. Stand up and get under COVER here with me. Yes, you. NOW" he hissed. The man confused, never-the-less heard the urgency in the voice and moved to the side of the building. Dragging him by the arm, Ray pulled the man down the street, as he and Jud began to stop off traffic at that end. While Jud was signalling a car to turn sideways on the street, he turned to look back down the street. The sight made him gasp. A Blackhawk was quietly rolling on its landing gear along the street, coming within a block of the parking lot where the white van was out of sight. Turning back to motion the driver out of the car, he jumped. Another BlackHawk was settling down a block away on the street, streams of black jump-suited Delta Force men were deploying away from the chopper. The driver of the car needed no urging and vanished into the shelter of a nearby office building.
In moments there were two assault teams standing at either end of the buildings surrounding the small electronic companys parking lot. Then the sound of the first BlackHawk, Knight One, could be heard as it dropped down behind the storefront.
Suddenly every man in the Delta Force moved at
once, four men crawling along on the street, hidden
by the curb and the high grass knoll in front of the
parking lot. They crept up into position right
across from the van and man peeked into the front
windshield and ducked down again. He signalled a
"zero" with his fingers and the rest of the team now
concentrated on moving in on the Electronic Store.
Just then a man came out of the door, his goods
swinging at his side in a small plastic shopping bag.
He didn't notice the Delta Force men at first as he
headed for his car to the left of the store's front
door. But just as his eyes grew in astonishment, a
black suited figure dumped the man to the ground and
covered his mouth. Then the rush was on. Four
conscussion grenades went off and smoke came pouring
out of the door.
Then shots from an automatic weapon rang out and another grenade, not a smoke grenade assumed Jud from the sound of the concussion, and the glass exploded out of the door. Then it was all quiet.
"Leader 1, D-Leader. All Clear."
Jud and Carlisle bounded into the store now, brandishing their entirely inadequate handguns, running to where a black suited man was signaling them to the back.
Here they saw a gaping hole where several of the terrorists had blown themselves up rather than be taken, and then he noticed 5 men sprawled on the floor. Each with a Delta Force man holding them down with a knee in the small of their back, and the business end of Stoner Commando rifle sticking in their ear.
"Our suspects didn't want to be captured, seems they took out the store owner too. These five claim to be workers here, we'll check 'em out. Sorry we don't have anyone for you to talk to."
Carlisle turned to Jud and shrugged, they had hoped for better, but somehow they knew it wouldn't be over yet.