Back In Dak To, when the radio receiver heard the message, he thought he must have been hallucinating.
“Let me hear it again,” he said to the man who first intercepted it.
A small crowd had gathered around him and they waited agonizingly for a confirmation. The silence was absolute, the tension palpable.
It was only after what seemed like an eternity, did the response arrive.
“Yes, that’s right, gentlemen. It’s affirmative, we have a signal, and it’s a strong one, at that. I think it may very well be their beeper.
A chorus of applause broke out.
“Sector Six,” shouted the commander taking off the headphones.
“Yes!” someone shouted loudly.
“Get Trautman, now!” ordered the commander.
“Awacs two: trace that signal. Trace that fucking signal and send us the coordinates. Divide the area into operational sections and start surveillance shifts. We’ve got to locate them.”
“Zone's hot, Sir. The sniffer is picking up on everything.”
“Affirmative, it’s the beeper the two MIA were carrying,” said the communications officer over the phone, then sliding off his headphones.
“They were last sighted a week ago, alive. This rescue retrieval has top priority. Repeat: top priority. Divert all available units to them. I want radio planes along with attack and rescue choppers.”
The man put took the headset off completely.
“I want everything, and I want it now,” he ordered.
“Copy that, Sir.”
“Get Trautman,” he said, “call 'The Beast' now. I want him here coordinating the operations.”
The radio head didn’t calm down and take a break until he saw all his men moving out.
“I can't fucking believe it,” he said in a low voice, to himself.