Although a work of fiction, this religious thriller has been packed with so many true events that it will stay with you long after you've finished reading it. Even the backdrop of the Vietnam War and what happened to Nickolas and his fellow soldier...
CHAPTER 2: The Signal ...... "Wow! I chanced upon this narration that held me spellbound for 2 solid hours! " (Jack Lim)
Blake had decided on his own to stay out of the bomber for now—respectful of the other men who had fought so bravely and who were now doing their nation's most honored work. While the other men were inside, Blake decided to circumambulate the bomber, carefully trying to get his bearings. Part of the aircraft was near a steep cliff. A ruptured tire looked like it had been tossed on the ground—shattered debris was everywhere and extreme care had to be taken as he worked his way around the fallen aircraft.
As Blake reached the other side his mind became flooded with questions. He wondered about the crew and what had happened to them. Little did he know that his life was about to change forever.
One official record that the United States Air Force was positive about was the number of men that had been on the B-52 before it was shot down. That fact was for certain: six men. Inside its now battered hull, the six bodies were indeed found. Not a pleasant sight for even the most hardened of soldiers. But there was no doubt about it. Their flight suits were there; their shattered bones were there; their dog tags were there. All six. Nobody was missing. Heavy hearts fell over the four men inside the bomber. A half hour of silence would pass before any of them would emerge from the fallen jet. Lt. Ngo reached for another cigarette.
It was then on the left side of the fuselage, near the cliff, that Blake spotted the mysterious shape. Oddly, the pile of rocks looked familiar but not something that he was expecting to see on the jungle floor. Not here. It caught him by surprise.
He could only guess that one of the Americans from the bomber had survived the crash. Had he left this crude signal for them to find? But what was he trying to say? Blake wondered.
Bending over for a closer look he then noticed something under the top rock. Carefully lifting it, he removed a piece of crumbling paper that had been wrapped years ago in a small plastic bag. Though fragile, the paper flag had sort of survived and later the next morning Sutton would take a picture of it. It was one of those small waterproof-survival flags, the kind that the military issued to their troops during the war. It was now beginning to make a little sense to him. Obviously, somebody had survived the crash. This was the proof.
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photo: Derrick Goode
Hearing something behind him, Blake turned around and saw Major Sutton making his way out of the large hole. Slowly approaching and looking very tired, Sutton said, "They're all in there, son. We found them—all six. From the looks of their crushed skeletons I'm certain that they died instantly. It's a pretty nasty sight. They never got out of their seat belts."
Blake could sense the deep sorrow that the Major felt but he was also becoming very confused. The two men stood looking at each other as they were joined by the other three Americans.
"Major Sutton, I found something over here that doesn't make any sense." He then handed the Major the American flag. "I found it under this rock—over here." The five men gathered around the pile of rocks while Blake placed the flag back where he had found it. He even placed the rock back on top of it. "What do you think Jim," Scott asked?
"I think it's a signal," Blake blurted out.
"But how is that possible, Blake? We found everyone. There is no way any of them were alive—go look for yourself." He felt bad he had said that last part.
Sutton could be seen making a tight fist. He bent over and removed the flag from under the rock. "Pete, I've got an idea. Pull out the metal detector while we clear away these rocks. Give me a hand Blake. Just throw them over there."
Within minutes Pete had his White's metal detector ready to go and everyone stood back. Turned on after the long journey, the machine came to life—its fresh batteries eager to go to work. From a strategic vantage point Lt. Ngo sat spellbound, trying to figure out what the Americans were up to. Rain began to fall. He looked at his watch. Time was running out.
On the very first pass across the jungle floor, the metal detector yelped—letting out its unmistakable chatter. Several more times it filled the jungle with its alarming sound. The soldiers tightened their grips on their automatic weapons. The monkeys sat staring, as if in a trance.
"Tracy, give me the shovel." Quickly digging through the wet soil, the clanking sound of a buried object could be heard. Lt. Ngo strained to get a better look. Now fingers replaced the shovel—finally grasping and then pulling the buried object to the earth's surface. Within such a short period of time more than two decades seemed to have fallen within their midst. First the lost bomber and now this strange object.
A crack of lightening startled everyone, forcing everyone to jump in fright.
"I think it's a tube of some sort, Major. Maybe from the plane." Sutton held the muddy object in his hand. Shaking it gently, something inside rattled.
As the men gathered even closer the rain began coming down harder. It was almost four in the afternoon. Twisting the ends of the tube with considerable might the cap finally gave way.
"Blake, cover me with a poncho so that whatever comes out won't get all wet. Scott, over here, hold your hands out. Mine are all muddy."
"What are the Americans doing?"
Tilting the tube at a 45-degree angle, four dog tags slid into Scott's hands. Reaching in with his fingers, he then withdrew a thick sheath of papers wrapped in cloth. "That's everything Major."
Trying to look at everyone at the same time, Sutton straightened his back and said, "Men, I want to get to the bottom of this just as fast as the rest of you. But we're a good hour's hike back to our camp and we've got a squall blowing down on us. It's going to take even longer to get back, now—and we've still got dinner to cook. If it's OK with you, let's put this stuff back in the tube and the first thing in the morning, after I get a chance to look it over, I'll give you a full report. Is this OK with everyone?"
Everyone nodded—sensing the storm's approaching fury. Motioning to Lt. Ngo to get his men ready to head out, again the column of men could be heard from the jungle tops making their way back to the base of the mountain. The wet monkeys clung to their trees, ever vigilant of the intruders below.
