Wired - Douglas E. Richards [101]
“Hagerstown, Maryland,” said Kira in a normal tone of voice. Even so, the entire group could easily hear her through the headphones, which did a remarkable job of insulated their ears from the unrelenting din of the chopper. “It’s about seventy miles northwest of D.C.”
Metzger nodded and the Blackhawk swooped off on a southwesterly heading. He dialed up a map on his computer and within minutes settled on a flight plan. When he had the aircraft under control he reached back and shook hands with Desh and then Kira in turn.
“We appreciate the ride, major,” said Desh. “Do you think you got away cleanly?”
“I think so,” he answered. “I altered some computerized flight logs to disguise the theft. Hopefully this will buy us a day.” He shrugged. “I also disabled the transponder so they can’t locate us immediately when they do discover the unauthorized use.”
“Well done,” said Desh.
Metzger nodded to acknowledge the compliment. “We should be there in about thirty minutes,” he announced. “Where do we land?”
The four passengers eyed each other for inspiration, but no one offered any immediate thoughts. A Blackhawk wouldn’t be easy to hide.
“We need abandoned areas that don’t get any traffic,” said Metzger. “Think.”
Kira pursed her lips in concentration. She had been living in a trailer park just outside of Hagerstown for months. She should be able to come up with something. “There’s a community pool near the town’s northern border,” she said. “After summer it’s drained and the facility is chained up. It has a very large deep-end we could land in.”
Metzger shook his head. “Won’t be deep enough. This bird’s almost seventeen feet high.”
Damn, thought Kira in frustration. She turned back to sorting through additional possibilities. They had been picked up in a football field. While this was a nice wide-open space, it couldn’t conceal the chopper. She smiled. Perhaps she just had the wrong sport. “There’s a minor league baseball team in Haggerstown,” she said. “The Suns. They play in Municipal stadium. Seats over 4000. Enclosed by bleachers and a home-run fence.”
“How tall are the bleachers?” asked Metzger.
She had never been to a game but had driven by the stadium on many occasions. “At the entrance, behind home plate, taller than seventeen feet.”
“Is it locked up in the off-season?”
“Can’t imagine it’s not,” replied Kira.
“How close to residential areas?”
“Not,” she replied. “Fairly industrial. No bars or stores in the area open at night.”
“Sounds like we have a winner,” said Metzger. “Let’s give it a go.”
With this decided, Desh motioned to Connelly to join him in the back of the chopper. The two men knelt beside two large, green canvas bags that Connelly had loaded aboard that contained a wide assortment of weapons and other equipment. Desh unzipped the first bag and inspected the contents approvingly: four combat knives, plasticuffs, metal handcuffs, rope, tape, six flashlights, a first aid kit, a wire cutter, a bolt cutter, and six pairs of night vision goggles. Desh also found several assault vests sporting multiple pockets for weapons, spare clips and grenades.
The second bag contained a wide variety of electronic and communication equipment, four H&K .45s, four MP-5 machine pistols, and a dozen stun grenades. These grenades were also known as flashbangs. Like this name implied, they would create such an intensely bright flash and earsplitting bang that they would blind and deafen an enemy for about ten seconds. Several pairs of eye protectors and electronic earplugs were present as well to minimize the effects of the stun grenades on those who were using them. Finally, Desh located several empty rucksacks that could be filled for specific missions as needed.
Connelly had done well. He had loaded the chopper for bear as Desh had requested.
As Desh continued inspecting the equipment he removed his headphones and motioned for the colonel to do the same. He leaned in close to Connelly’s ear. “This