“One documented ROE violation, three observed range safety violations, one observed weapons safety violation, one possible safety-of-flight violation,” Patrick said. “That gives Two-One’s sortie a zero Damage Expectancy score, which takes you down to eighty-six percent even if everyone else was
“That’s ‘General’ or ‘sir’ to you, Colonel!” Patrick snapped. “And don’t give me this innocence routine. You all knew what the ROEs are for this ride, and you deliberately broke them — not once, but
“So if I’m such a hazard and a risk, why did you have us do all that other crazy shit over R-4808?” Rinc asked. “You want us for something, don’t you?”
“Right now I want your planes,” McLanahan said. “I’ll decide if and which crews I want for them later.”
“And what if we decide not to go along with this cockamamy scheme of yours?” Rebecca Furness interjected. “Why in hell should we do all this and risk getting busted and maybe even handing our planes over to a terrorist or some wacko? We don’t know jack shit about you or what’s going on. Why should we trust you?”
“The answer is, you shouldn’t if you don’t want to,” Patrick replied. “Anyone who wants to can depart the anchor, get a clearance and a squawk from L.A. Center, and take your plane back to Reno. I’ll invalidate the flying phase of the pre-D exercise, and I’ll make sure you get full recognition for your outstanding job during the generation and deployment.
“I don’t know what will happen if you return to Reno, guys,” Patrick went on. “If you’re lucky, Major Seaver and maybe Colonel Furness will get fired or reassigned, and you’ll get to do your pre-D all over again after a six- month probationary period. But odds are, you’ll get decertified. The Nevada Air National Guard will lose its Bones, and it’ll take every ounce of juice from your congressional delegations and state lobbyists to get a military flying unit back into the state of Nevada, let alone to Reno.”
“So what happens if we go with you, General?” Furness asked.
“Maybe the same thing,” Patrick admitted. “The Air Force and the Pentagon can nix my entire plan. Then
“But if the Pentagon signs off on my plan, by wintertime we’ll be flying the most high-tech warplanes on the face of the earth,” Patrick continued. “You’ll be placed on extended active duty for training in a new class of warplane. You’ll train a new generation of bomber crews with a mission unlike anything the world has ever seen before.”
“Well, shit, General,” Seaver said sarcastically. “When you put it that way, what’s the big deal?”
“This is the big deal,” Patrick said. “My program is ‘black’ right now. That means it’s so classified that everything and anything that comes near it is sucked into a bottomless, agonizing pit of security rules that at best will drive you nuts.
“If you all agree to this, your lives will change forever. Your personal and professional lives, and the lives of your family, friends, and acquaintances, will be under intense scrutiny for decades. You will be giving up most of your personal freedoms and liberties by agreeing to do this. I know many of you joined the Air Guard to escape the life of an active-duty career military officer — well, if you agree to do this, life in the active-duty force will seem like a vacation in Hawaii compared to what you’ll be subjected to. You’ll be jerked around as soon as you get on final approach to our destination — I shit you not.”
Patrick waited for several moments; then: “According to my watch, we’ve got twenty minutes of fuel left before we need to head back to Reno. That’s how long you’ve got to think about my offer. Ask any questions, talk it over with your crews or with the colonel. Then give me an answer. Once we get back to Reno, the decision will be made for you.”
“We don’t need to talk about it,” Furness radioed. “I’m still the commander of Aces High, and I make the decisions.”
“Not this time, Colonel,” Patrick said. “This decision affects each aviator personally. It’s not a squadron decision.”
“They’re in my planes — it’s
“I said, no it’s not, Colonel,” Patrick snapped. “Each man and woman makes this decision on their own.”
“You don’t know shit about command, do you, General?” Furness said. “Listen up, hogs. The general’s right on one count: we blew it today. We all know the rules of engagement exist so the fighter pukes can have a chance of bagging us. We all know they’re bullshit. But we get paid to follow the rules, and we broke them because protecting our guys and doing the job means more than following some desk jockey’s safety rules. The pud- pounders have been looking for an excuse to shut down Aces High, and it looks like we gave them an excuse this morning. Fuck it. Our mission was BOTOTCHA, not playing by some stinking nice-nice rules. We put bombs on target and came out alive. We did our job.”
“I don’t know what game the general’s playing,” Rinc Seaver broke in, “but I got a peek at his super-secret project. It looks pretty cosmic, and it looks like it’s exactly up our alley. If we go back to Reno, we’ll probably be sucking wind. If we stay together and keep pushing forward, we might get a chance to do some pretty cool shit. We’re going for it. Everyone copy?”
“Two.”
“Three.”
“Four.”
“Colonel Furness is not being entirely straight with you guys,” Patrick said. “I don’t know what will happen to your unit if you return. Like I said, my guess is that the two pilots involved in the ‘airshow’ incident will be forced to retire or reassigned. Your unit will probably continue on…”
“And I don’t think the general’s been entirely straight with us either,” said Seaver. “The general has a hidden agenda: he wants our planes more than he wants us. We’ve been ordered back to Reno. If we land someplace else, we’ve violated a direct lawful order. We could all get shit-canned on the spot. But the general will end up with our planes, which is probably all he’s wanted ever since he showed up in town. Tell me I’m wrong, General McLanahan.”
“You’re wrong,” Patrick said. “My underlying agenda involves finding the best crews and the best planes for a new attack mission. I think you’re it. But my primary reason for coming to Reno was to conduct your predeployment inspection. Your showboating and the conflict in Korea has just sped up my timetable. It’s your hotdogging that’s put this unit in jeopardy, Major, not my agenda.”
“Thanks for the clarification, General — I think it agrees with what I just said,” Furness said. “We’ll leave it up to the crewdogs. Okay, hogs. Talk among yourselves, then report back and tell me if you’re in with me or out. If you want out, fine. No hard feelings.”
“Two’s in,” Rinc said immediately.
“Three’s in.”
“Four’s in.”
“That good enough for you, General?” Furness asked, a sharp edge to her voice.
“I guess it’ll have to be,” Patrick said. “Welcome aboard, guys and gals. Welcome to hell. Listen up carefully:
“We’re going to break out of this anchor and shoot an ILS approach at an undisclosed and uncharted military airfield. I have no doubt you’ll figure out which one I’m talking about shortly. As you might guess, security there is extraordinarily tight. Overflying the base is not allowed at any time no matter what the circumstances. We need to do this precisely so the security forces on the ground don’t encounter any surprises, because they have only one response to surprise aircraft overflying their location — they’ll destroy it. Plain and simple. They’ve done it before
