The Circle War by Mack Maloney Read Free Book Online Page A

of the dictates was that sophisticated weapons like the F-16s —along with just about every frontline weapon in the West's mighty arsenal —be destroyed. In the wave of disarmament fever that followed — carried out for the most part by fanatical, if slightly suspicious National Guardsmen in the U.S.—literally billions of dollars of equipment was blown up, dismantled or otherwise made useless. Except for this one F-16 . . .
    A year after the war, General Seth Jones, the late twin brother of PAAC's Commander-in-Chief, Dave Jones, had found the plane locked away in an isolated hangar at the abandoned Thunderbirds' HQ at Nellis Air Force Base near Las Vegas, Nevada. Why the plane had escaped the disarmament destruction, he never knew. But to be caught with the aircraft was a crime in the eyes of the New Order, punishable by death. Nevertheless, as part of his plan to draw 53
    Hunter out of his self-imposed exile on a New Hampshire mountain, Jones risked death by firing squad and had the aircraft disassembled, then flown piece by piece back to ZAP's Jonesville base on Cape Cod where it was put back together in secret. Once Hunter got a look at the '16 —probably the last one left in the world —he immediately agreed to give up the hermit's life and to join ZAP.
    Jones had the plane repainted in its original Thunderbird red-white-and-blue colors, but it was Hunter who modified the aircraft to carry up to a dozen Sidewinder air-to-air missiles, instead of the usual four. He also installed a
    "six-pack" of Vulcan cannons, three on each side of the jet's nose. The pilot put his aeronautical doctorate to work when he disassembled the jet's GE
    engine and uprated it to nearly twice its power. Now the F-16 could reach speeds of nearly 2000 m.p.h. with the afterburner kicked in.
    Even before the war, Hunter was well recognized as the best fighter pilot who had ever lived. Now, in the dangerous, post-war world, his fighter was well known and accorded the highest respect across the continent. Consequently, the F-16 was known as the best fighter ever built. If any plane was built with a pilot in mind, it was the F-16 and Hunter. They were made for each other.
    Hunter put the F-16 into a long slow turn back over the base. At this point he knew he was serving as a "target" for the antiaircraft crews below—these daily flights allowed the crews to test their tracking 54
    and aiming equipment.
    His flight path brought him over the dozens of quonset huts that served as the base's barracks. There were about 15,000 troops in all stationed at the base—
    the infantry division, the Airborne group, Dozer's 7th Cavalry. With their support groups and families, the population at PAAC-Oregon reached 25,000. And just as with the old ZAP base on Cape Cod, a large community of ordinary citizens had sprung up around the installation. In the anarchaic New Order, the prime real estate was near the protection of friendly forces like PAAC.
    Not only did the citizens know that in times of trouble they could seek refuge inside the base, but living next to the installation also provided them with work in the many support operations needed to run the huge operation.
    Once he received radio confirmation that the AA crews around the center of the base had completed their exercises, Hunter steered the fighter toward the outer defense perimeter of the base. Below him he could see the acres of farmlands, tilled by citizens, that supplied the base with its food. Just as the small fleet of fishing boats docked near the base provided the servicemen with fresh catches daily, these farms put the vegetables on the mess tables.
    The neat squared-out patterns on the ground were broken occasionally by an antiaircraft battery or a SAM site. Corn grew right next to a string of ack-ack guns, and a Hawk missile system cohabitated with a field of carrots.
    The outer defense line was located some 11 miles out from the center of the base. Its perimeter ran nearly 30 miles and