Kriangsak knew he had to choose a new target and choose it quickly.
Turning, he surveyed the city skyline across the canal toward the
southwest. The pyramid-shaped, ultramodern architecture of one of
Bangkok’s more modern and luxurious hotels rose beyond the trees of Siam
Square, half a mile away.
Perfect.
He reached out and grabbed the sleeve of a soldier nearby, turning him
around and getting him moving toward the klong. He found another …
and another. Within five minutes, Kriangsak had rounded up a small army
of fifty armed men and had set them moving across the Wit Thaya Road
bridge which spanned Klong Sen Seb. Scattered gunshots and shouted
demands for surrender sounded behind them as army troops closed in on
the dazed and stumbling survivors of the column. His fifty men had
managed to get clear in the smoky confusion and dim light, though,
before the loyalist net closed around them.
The Americans had done this. So be it. If the Americans had seen fit
to intervene in the coup, then it would be the Americans who would have
to accept the consequences.
Colonel Kriangsak knew he might still be able to bargain from a position
of strength.
CHAPTER 23
0610 hours, 21 January
Tomcat 201, U.S.S. Thomas Jefferson
Tombstone dropped into his ejection seat and accepted his helmet from
Chief Smith. The plane captain grinned at him as he went through the
motions of strapping on his airplane, and gave him a jaunty thumbs up.
“How about bagging another six kills, Commander? For us.”
“I’ll see what I can do, Chief,” Tombstone said, laughing. He settled
the helmet over his head and adjusted the lip mike. “I’ll see what I
can do.”
He finished pulling the arming pins for the ejection seat and checking
the other necessary preflight details–leg restraints, oxygen and G-suit
hoses connected and locked, radio cord snapped into his helmet.
Smith gave his helmet a friendly pat. “Luck! Canopy coming down.”
Tombstone could hear Dixie’s harsh breathing over the Tomcat’s ICS as
the RIO went through his own checklist. “Firing up,” Tombstone said,
and he switched on the powerful Pratt & Whitney turbofans.
“All set back here, Tombstone,” Dixie told him.
Outside, the plane captain gave the Tomcat a final quick visual
inspection, then signaled his approval. A small army of green shirts
began breaking down the aircraft, removing the chocks and chains which
had kept it pinned in place on the starboard side of the carrier, just
forward of the island. A man in yellow jersey and cranial backed ahead
of the F-14, signaling with his hands. Tombstone released the brakes
and set the aircraft trundling slowly forward after him.
The launch for the alpha strike code-named Operation Bright Lightning
was well under way. Jefferson had been hurling aircraft into the sky
for the past hour, beginning with the VA-84’s A-6 Intruders and
VFA-176’s Hornets for close support missions over Bangkok.
But the real show today would be in the far north of Thailand, over the
airfield at U Feng.
“Eagle Leader, this is Homeplate,” a voice crackled in his helmet
phones.
“Eagle” was the call sign for VF-95 on this strike.
“Homeplate, this is Eagle Leader,” Tombstone replied. “I copy. Go
ahead.”
“Stoney? This is CAG. How are you feeling?”
Tombstone was surprised. CAG did not normally chat with pilots during a
launch … and he never asked after their health.
Still, he understood. CAG had gone to bat for him with the senior
medical officer. Marusko had put his own neck on the line, so that
Tombstone could risk his.
“Livin’ on the edge, CAG,” he said. “No problem.”
“Take care of yourself, Stoney. Oh … and the admiral says, ‘Good
flying.””
This last was even more surprising. Admiral Magruder was usually
scrupulously careful not to show favoritism for his aviator nephew. A
personal message from the CO of the battle group broadcast over the
tactical com net could hardly be kept secret.
But Tombstone didn’t mind, not anymore. And a little last-second
nervousness from CAG over his decision to intervene with the doctors was
justifiable, Tombstone decided.
Had he made the right decision? Strange. Tombstone hadn’t thought
much about it. The hours since his escape had been a mix of frantic