The Lotus Eaters

Santiago, Santander, Terra Nova

Hartmann didn't need any highly advanced navigational gear to find Santiago. Standing high above the city's lights, up on the commanding mountains to the east, four huge bonfires sent smoke, sparks, and flames to the sky. Hartmann checked his radar as he circled the city. No targets, nothing flying at all. He straightened out from his turn and set course to fly to Buenaventura. As he departed the area he radioed to Santiago Air Force Base, thousands of feet below.

"When can you people put up something to join me?" Hartmann asked.

The control tower answered, "Hours after daylight. The bastards skimmed by us just before one in the morning. Two helicopters; model unknown. They dropped thousands of these little damned mines on all the taxiways, the parking area, and the runway. Mixed in with those were some anti-vehicular mines. A bunch of them were painted with some red glow-in-the-dark paint. More weren't. We found out all the mines weren't painted when one of our people went out to try to sweep the way clear with a push broom. He stepped on one that wasn't painted. It smashed his foot. Anyway, at first light we'll begin to clear the base. Sorry. And, no, we can't refuel you either. Bastards."

Hours after first light, thought Hartmann, too late. I guess it's still up to me.