“New destination?”
“We’re not going to Tonopah.”
“We’re not? You get something on the SATCOM? Are we going back to Reno?”
“I did get some news on SATCOM, and I decided to change our itinerary,” Patrick said. “Get Two-Zero tied on radar.”
“What’s the story, General? Where are we going?”
“Somewhere over the rainbow, boys and girls,” Patrick said. “Somewhere over the rainbow. I just hope we don’t run into a wicked witch after we get there.”
The rejoin with Aces Two-Zero went off without a hitch, and soon both bombers were in close fingertip formation, visually inspecting each other for any signs of damage or hanging ordnance after their live releases. Each plane did a turn over and around the other, checking all possible sides. “You look clean, lead,” reported the copilot aboard Two-Zero, Annie “Heels” Dewey, on the secure HAVE QUICK interplane frequency. “Hey, where were you guys?”
“We can tell you — but then we’d have to kill you,” Rinc said, but there was no humor in his voice.
“Put a cork in it, Rodeo,” Furness said.
“Crew, I’m clearing off to SATCOM voice,” Patrick said. “Make sure you’re toggled off.” Patrick switched over to the secure satellite communications channel and reauthenticated with Dave Luger. “How are we coming, partner?”
“We’re ready and waiting, boss,” Dave replied. “Foxtrot row is ready. We’ve diverted Aces Three-Zero and Aces Three-One, and they’ll be arriving in your patrol anchor shortly. You can come in as a four-ship. We might have problems with the three planes that were supposed to deploy to Tonopah, however.”
“Problems?”
“Muck, half the world is hopping mad at you right now,” Luger said. “Air Combat Command has been screaming at the Nevada Air Guard and at us for the last hour, asking if your guys and you have gone off your collective rockers. They’re pissed about the ROE violations, and they’re ready and anxious to prosecute all of you for dropping live ordnance over R-4808 without prior coordination. They’ve issued orders to the three planes still in Reno to cease all operations. The Nevada adjutant general isn’t arguing with ACC.
“I tried to explain that Genesis was driving this exercise,” Dave said, using HAWC’s unclassified call sign, “but I don’t have nearly enough juice to put out this fire. General Samson wants to meet with the chief of staff and/or the CJSC, but with this Korea thing exploding, no one’s available to take a meeting.”
“Has General Samson talked with General Bretoff?”
“Affirmative,” Dave said. “Bretoff’s a nice guy, but this squabble is way over his head, and he’s swinging whichever way the wind’s blowing. I think if General Samson will run interference, Bretoff will run with the ball and let us play. I think this was just plain bad timing, Muck — everyone would be a lot less tweaked if the Korea thing hadn’t erupted.”
“Gotcha,” Patrick said. “I’m not really concerned about ACC right now — what I want is those planes.”
“Bottom line: I think all you’ll get are the planes that are airborne right now, my friend,” Dave said. “Might be better to leave it at that. We only have kits and weapons for two birds anyway, and funds for only two more. Get the four on the ground at Dreamland, and only the SECAF or higher can dislodge them. CSAF is already onboard, if your boys haven’t pissed him off too much.”
“We’ll see,” Patrick said. “Thanks, Dave. See you on the ground shortly.” He switched back to interphone. “Co’s back up, crew. I’m going to interplane freq.” He switched to the air-to-air frequency: “Aces Two-Zero, check.”
“We’re up,” replied Rebecca Furness in the other B-1 in the patrol orbit.
“Aces Three-Zero flight, check.”
The transmission was a little scratchy, but they heard, “Aces Three-Zero flight of two is up. Hiya, hogs.”
“Three-Zero?” Furness remarked. “What’s going on, sir?”
“You’ll see.” On the interplane frequency, he said, “Three-Zero flight, Two-Zero flight is in fingertip in the anchor at one seven thousand block one eight thousand. I want you in the block one-niner to two-zero.” Both flights verified their positions on air-to-air TACAN and radar, then coordinated the rejoin with Los Angeles Center. Once both formations were within three miles of each other, McLanahan had Furness declare MARSA—”military assumes responsibility for separation of aircraft”—with the other formation. The civilian controllers seemed very relieved to relinquish responsibility for this strange and unusual gaggle of military aircraft.
“Hey, you guys hear what’s happened?” the pilot in Aces Three-Zero said on the secure interplane frequency after they were safely in the patrol orbit. “War has started in Korea. They expect the balloon to go up any second.”
“I think the balloon has already gone up — right on top of
“I’m going to let the general explain,” Furness said, “because I don’t fucking understand it one bit.”
“Okay, listen up, all of you,” Patrick said on inter-plane. “This is Major Seaver’s copilot. A situation has developed related to the Korea crisis, and using my own discretion under the authority of the chief of staff of the Air Force, I have ordered all of the 111th’s aircraft and deployable aircrews to another location. We’re on our way there right now. It’s imperative that you follow my directions exactly, or you’ll be shot down. Do you understand?”
“What’s going down, Go-Fast?” asked Pogo Lassky in Aces Three-One. “Is this for real? What does he mean, shot down?”
“Shut up and listen, all of you,” Furness said. “I don’t know what’s happening, but the general is in charge. Be quiet, pay attention, and do like the man says.”
“How’s your fuel level, number one?” Lassky asked.
“I’m not under duress, Pogo,” Furness answered immediately. Lassky’s question was a code phrase, asking in as natural a manner as possible if there was a hijacker or any trouble onboard. “This is for real. We’ll be on the ground shortly, and then he’ll explain everything. Now listen good.”
“Hey, are you a terrorist or something?” John Long asked. “Is this some twisted plot to steal our planes and bomb Canada or something?”
“It’s a twisted plot, all right,” Patrick said with a smile in his voice. “And yes, I am stealing the planes — sort of.”
“Is this part of the pre-D?” someone else asked. “Is this part of the exercise? Some kind of loyalty or anti- terrorist test?”
“No, this is not part of the pre-D, and no, it’s not a test of your loyalty,” Patrick replied. “You can refuse to participate in what I’m planning on doing. I will not order anyone to follow my directions. You can fly back to Reno. I’ll even invalidate the flying portion of the pre-D.”
“Say
“The squadron did almost perfectly in the generation and predeployment,” Patrick said. “You didn’t do so well in the flying part. I’ve already received hate mail from Air Combat Command, the Guard Bureau, and several wing commanders, and I’m sure there are more waiting to chew some butt. But I’m willing to tell ACC, the National Guard Bureau, and the chief of staff of the Air Force that I unfairly influenced the flying portion to make it more difficult than the regs allowed. You keep all your Probability to Launch and Survive points, and you do the flying part some other time with some other evaluator.”
“Why invalidate the flying portion of the pre-D?” the pilot aboard Aces Three-One asked. “What happened? How did we do?”
“I don’t know,” Patrick said. “I haven’t tallied the reports yet. I’ll debrief you all later.”
“If we were doing okay, I think you’d tell us, sir,” another crew member said. “Why don’t you tell us the truth? We’re big boys.”
“Any objections, Colonel Furness?” Patrick asked on interplane. There was no response — Patrick decided Furness knew exactly what was coming and was afraid to countermand a full report in front of the troops. “Very well. All in all, the squadron did very well — I’d rate you an ‘excellent’ overall, in fact. Almost perfect in Probability to Launch and Survive points. Almost perfect… right up until Major Seaver taxied out of the parking area. After that, it all went downhill.”
