Air Battle Force

I’m sure State will order an evacuation.”

“But I believe that the situation has become much worse, sir, even in the past two days,” Patrick said. “Flying a diplomatic mission into Turkmenistan right now might be an important thing to do to try to get control of this Taliban uprising and the possible repercussions should Russia counterattack, but it still places Deputy Secretary Hershel and President Martindale in grave danger.”

“It’s part of the job,” Venti said. “If she or the president thought they’d be in real danger, I suppose they would send some other representative. The State Department deals with these kinds of dangers every day.” It was obvious in his voice that he wanted to wrap up this discussion — or maybe he didn’t really believe what he was saying himself. “Thanks for your concern, Patrick. I’ll forward your report to State. Anything else?”

“No, sir.”

Venti stopped and looked at Patrick for a rather long moment. “Just for my edification, General: In case the situation did get worse between now and when Deputy Secretary Hershel’s plane flies over Turkmenistan, what else would you have in mind?” He turned and typed something on his computer terminal, then read a page or two. “I have your entire unit mission plan right here in front of me, which I received from General Luger. Is this what you’re talking about?”

“Sir, the Air Battle Force ground team has been mobilized. I would simply implement the rest of the total force,” Patrick explained. “The Air Battle Force travels and fights as a team, not as individuals. I agreed to provide security support for Deputy Secretary Hershel because I’m anxious to prove what our ground team can do, but the idea is to deploy as a team, even if the other elements are never utilized.”

“So you’re suggesting…?”

“I should be authorized to deploy the rest of the Air Battle Force,” Patrick said. “One Air Battle team, deployed and ready for action in-theater, with the rest of the Air Battle Force deployed to Diego Garcia or on fast alert here to back up the first team if necessary.”

Patrick could see General Venti wearily rubbing his temples, then leaning back in his seat. “I’ll need to read over your unit mission plan again, Patrick, before I upchannel this.”

“Sir, Hershel is already on her way to Bahrain for updates and consultations. She goes on to Turkmenistan in under forty-eight hours,” Patrick said. “That gives us less than one day before we need to deploy—”

“I know, Patrick, I know,” Venti said irritably. “But there just hasn’t been time to study all this. We were concerned about funding further development of your unit, not about actually deploying it in so short a time.”

“Sir…”

“Patrick, relax,” Venti interrupted. “I’ll call the staff together and we’ll get this on the secretary’s desk right away, along with your report and your recommendations. But we can’t accomplish everything instantly. If need be, we can recommend that Hershel’s mission be postponed. But in all likelihood everything will proceed normally. She and Martindale will meet with the Turkmen government and the ambassadors from the different nations involved, then get the hell out of there. The Turkmen and Russians aren’t crazy — they wouldn’t dare threaten a U.S. diplomatic mission.”

“Yes, sir” was all Patrick could say.

Venti shook his head. “You did good work here, Patrick. Very heads-up — the kind of information I need from my field commanders. But the civilian side, especially the diplomatic side, is a whole other world. Sometimes everything we do is simply not enough. Our job is to give them the data and our recommended course of action. They make the decisions.”

“Yes, sir,” Patrick responded neutrally.

Patrick’s tone of voice rang an alarm in Richard Venti’s head, and his attention immediately snapped back to the video screen. “General, I advise you to think carefully before you plan your next moves,” he said. Furness and Long could feel the weight of his stare even through the secure videoconference link. “I know you want to help, and you’re doing so right now. But remember your recent history. I like the planning you and your staff do, and I encourage you to continue. But every time you decide to embark on some unauthorized activity, someone ends up getting hurt — usually yourself.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Make sure that you do, General. Anything else for me?”

“No, sir. Thank you for your time.”

“Thanks for your reports. I’ll be in touch.”

The connection terminated. Patrick immediately called up the aircraft status board and a chart detailing the current locations of all the Air Battle Force’s and 111th Wing’s airborne aircraft. He ignored the alarmed shuffling Colonel Long was doing behind him. “General Luger.”

“Sir?”

“Generate and deploy the First Air Battle team immediately, and assume combat air-patrol operations over Turkmenistan. Assemble and deploy a combat-support group to Diego Garcia, and prepare ramp space and support facilities at Diego Garcia for combat operations. Then generate the Second Air Battle Team, and deploy them to Diego Garcia, configuration Gold.”

“What?” John Long exclaimed.

“Yes, sir,” Luger responded, glaring at Long. He immediately sat down at the deputy commander’s console and began typing in instructions. Seconds later Rebecca Furness turned away from the others as the duty officer called on her earpiece to notify her that her wing’s aircraft were being recalled and tasked with a mission and deployment by the Air Battle Force.

“Excuse me, General, but didn’t you hear what the chairman said?” Long asked incredulously. “He said no unauthorized activity. I was standing right here, and I didn’t hear him authorize you to send any aircraft anywhere!”

“John…” Rebecca started.

“What is it with you, McLanahan?” Long dug in. “Do you think this Air Force exists for your own personal pleasure?”

“Colonel…”

“Or have you completely gone insane?”

“Colonel Long!” Rebecca snapped.

Long turned to her in surprise.

“An L-hour has been declared by the Air Battle Force. Issue an immediate recall of all wing personnel and aircraft—”

“Rebecca, what are you doing?”

“Then generate the Alpha and Bravo Force aircraft in configuration Gold,” she went on, setting a timer on her watch — she knew that the duty officer would keep track of aircraft generation timing, but old habits died hard with veteran commanders like herself. “The Alpha Force crews should be ready for the prelaunch mission brief in L plus ten hours; the Bravo Force should be ready to go on ground alert in L plus eighteen. The wing battle staff will meet in the BATMAN in thirty minutes. An L-hour directs a Reserve Forces call-up, so you better notify the Nevada adjutant general and the governor of Nevada that the wing is commencing a full combat generation, and make sure they understand this is not an exercise.”

“Rebecca, we have absolutely no authority to be doing this,” Long sputtered. “It’s patently illegal. McLanahan is going to make a fool out of us again!”

“Colonel Long, I haven’t heard you order the duty officer to issue a wing recall.”

“And you won’t, until we have a chance to talk,” Long shot back.

“Duty Officer,” Rebecca called, “notify Colonel Mace that he is now the wing operations-group commander. Colonel Long will assume the duties of the Fifty-first Squadron commander.”

“Yes, General Furness,” the electronic duty officer responded.

“Rebecca, damn it, listen to me!” Long shouted. He took her by the arm and physically moved her away from McLanahan and Luger.

Rebecca’s eyes blazed, but she let him have his say.

“Rebecca, you can’t do any of this. You can’t follow an order knowing it’s illegal. You’ve been through this before with McLanahan, and you’ve gotten busted. Don’t trash your career again for the likes of them.”