The “Supreme Commander” handed the radio over to his lieutenant who would call in any changes, and he returned outside to greet the rest of the engineers.

It took until both aircraft reached the end of the runway and the first one was beginning its take-off run before he thought he could see black, minute shapes low over the sea and a couple of miles out—right behind the two 747s. He wasn’t certain, but he continued with the last of the engineers. The commandeered aircraft thundered past 100 yards away and thirty seconds later slowly climbed into the air a mile to the west. He looked towards the east, and this time the black shapes were very visible to a sharp eye, several feet above the horizon.

He had only seven or eight men to go when he heard the second aircraft’s engines go into a scream and he continued to bow to each man without looking towards the noise. It was working out perfectly, and he only had three men to go when the aircraft passed them and there was gunshot from the soldiers in the two formation groups by the Expressway, and everyone looked up. The second 747 left the ground, as Captain Wong pushed the last three Chinese engineers and the major into the terminal, screaming in Chinese to take cover as all hell broke loose outside. The last of the engineers were all pushed through the curtain and out of sight of the altercation outside. “Okay, guys, are we secure in here?” Patterson shouted as he got out of his clothes and allowed the last Chinese engineers who had not been knocked unconscious yet see who he really was. Those three engineers had 60 weapons trained on them, and nobody moved.

Then Major Patterson heard the rotors of the first chopper as it came in just behind the edge of the terminal and out of the line of a potential firefight with the enemy. They unloaded fast as Major Patterson, with his lieutenant and radio, headed for the roof via a ladder on the opposite side of the terminal.

He climbed up onto the snowy roof, with the ensuing firefight in view below him, just in time to see the second C-130 touch down and pull up behind the first one to empty its troops. The Chinese soldiers, professional and battle-hardened, were spanning out trying to get around the gunfire from the snow mounds. The major noticed a third C-130 at about 700 feet and half a mile away circling over the ocean—either directing the attack, or ready with medics, or both.

The second helicopter came in behind the terminal to block off any possible enemy retreat, and any further advancement into the airport area, and 180 soldiers raced out of the back of two C-130s, charging forward and firing heavily into the opposition’s area to protect the 130s as they continued down the runway.

Both aircraft nearly went vertical as they took off seconds later, exactly where the second 747 had left the ground, and out of range of any deadly fire.

The other two helicopters circled around and dropped a platoon of thirty men along the Van Wyck Expressway to cut off any retreat. A rocket flew close by one of the helicopters as it rose into the air but the rocket missed and went on its way, exploding in a building several hundred yards away. The second chopper hugged the ground as they left the scene empty.

The Chinese soldiers were cornered, but fought back bravely. They were well-armed and had several different types of weapons, but were not prepared for this sudden attack. Hand grenades flew from both sides and ground missiles flew out from the line of trucks they had set up as protection. Several of the charging men from the runway went down as they ran for the mounds of snow, with the stationery vehicles only a hundred yards away.

For several minutes, the firing was intense from both sides, with over 400 carbines firing at each other and several hand grenades and rockets going in both directions. Suddenly, three small mortars could be heard from behind the snow mounds as mortar bombs flew into the air and started to blow the cars to pieces. Nine rounds went in, as well as dozens of hand grenades and several shoulder rockets began to blow the rest of the vehicles, and the opposition’s cover, to pieces.

Then silence began to envelop the area as the American troops were told to hold their fire by their commanders. A white piece of material became viewable waving above the middle truck that was about to burst into flames. Slowly, several men climbed out of the vehicles, moved forward, and dropped their weapons. The major headed off the roof, told Captain Wong to get all the engineers together, unconscious or not, and frisk them for weapons or phones while he went outside.

The air was full of smoke as he left the terminal. Using his radio, he told his men to stand down, stay on the mounds, and keep the surrendering soldiers covered. The third C-130 came in landing well down the runway and stayed at a safe distance ready to be called forward.

Dozens of American troops were moving into the attack area, with several of them ready to fire at the growing crowd of injured and bloody men, who 15 minutes earlier had stood in formation not knowing that their lives were held in the balance for the battle.

A truck’s gas tank suddenly exploded, spewing bodies in all directions, and flames engulfed the two trucks either side. Orders were given by Major Patterson, and several of his men ran for the bulldozers to make sure that the trucks were separated and pushed further away from the terminals.

After a couple of minutes, Captain Wong shouted to the Chinese soldiers to go back and pull any wounded out of the mess of vehicles, and several men went back and began shouting for survivors. Another five bodies were pulled out and Major Patterson counted only 37 Chinese soldiers alive and or wounded out of the 200, which had arrived. A U.S. Air Force Senior First Sergeant who had been co coordinating the attack from the C-130s radioed Major Patterson and asked for orders.

“Tell your men to keep the captives under guard, pull them to one side, check them for weapons, be careful, and can I assume that the C-130 has medics?”

“Roger that,” was the reply.

“Get the medics in here. I want an injury count in ten minutes once we have the area safe and the men checked for weapons. Our injured go into the aircraft first, followed by theirs. I want a report from the Expressway and behind the terminals. Did we lose any?”

“Negative on the Expressway,” was the reply over the radio. “We were charged by about 20 Charlies, but none made it. We are clearing the area and coming towards you. Over.”

“I want 202 bodies or injured men in Charlie camouflage. I counted them before the fight and we are not leaving here until we have 202 accounted for,” ordered Patterson.

“We had several try and make it around the building, but they are dead and we are checking every hole anybody can climb into for any Charlie. Over,” added another soldier.

They started with their own wounded, and there were three dead Americans and 29 wounded—several seriously. The C-130 had over 20 medical personnel ready, and the wounded were quickly transferred to the aircraft. The second C-130 was empty and ready to take on more wounded. There were only three lucky Chinese soldiers who did not have a wound of any sort, and they were frisked and put to work carrying their own wounded into the aircraft as the first 130 made its way down the taxiway.

“Get all the wounded and dead back to McGuire,” Major Patterson ordered the flight personnel. He could not speak over the radio to McGuire from the ground, since the base was too far away, but the aircraft’s radio operators could from the air.

“C-130s—return ASAP for the engineers and the pallets of electronics we have here. It’s going to take at least ten flights in and out to carry the pallets, and we need this airport on lockdown by sunset. Also, ask the base commander at McGuire and Andrews to wake up all their engineering personnel. We need all the help we can to audit the inventory when the equipment arrives at McGuire. My troops will keep the airport under control until every Charlie is accounted for.”