Plan of Attack

After Luger was routed through several clerks, aides, and chiefs of staff, he finally heard, “General Fortuna, secure.”

“General, how are you, ma’am? This is General Luger, Air Battle Force, Battle Mountain, secure.”

“Dave! Good to hear from you,” General Leah “Skyy” Fortuna, the deputy commander of Air Combat Command, responded happily, her thick New York accent still obvious despite the distortion from the secure telephone line. Leah Fortuna got her call sign “Skyy” both from her love of flying — she’d been a bomber pilot and flight instructor — and her love of blue American-made vodka. “How the heck is the smartest guy ever to graduate from the Air Force Academy?”

“I’m doing okay, thanks.”

“Congrats on getting the command out there,” Leah said, “although I’m sure you hoped it would be under happier circumstances. No one deserves it more than you, though.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“You’re making me feel old with that ‘ma’am’ crap, Dave — or is this a ‘ma’am’ phone call?”

“Sort of, yes.”

“Okay. So what can I do you for?”

“I received an unofficial request for support from General McLanahan at Air Intelligence Agency,” Dave said.

“ ‘Unofficial request,’ huh?”

“That’s why I’m calling, ma’am. I have a request for overhead-imagery support that I’d like you to take to General Muskoka.” General Thomas “Turbo” Muskoka, a former F-15E Strike Eagle and F-117A stealth fighter pilot and deputy chief of staff of the Air Force, was the new commander of Air Combat Command, the Air Force’s largest major command. “Patrick made the request directly to me. I was not comfortable taking that request outside the chain of command, so I denied it. But I believe that Patrick does have a legitimate operational need for the data, and I firmly believe I have the sensors and equipment that can get him the information he needs.”

“Why not take it to Eighth Air Force?”

“Air Battle Force’s taskings don’t normally come from Eighth Air Force,” Dave said. He knew it sounded lame, but it was the best excuse he could think of at the moment. Although the EB-52 and EB-1C bombers in the Air Battle Force were not nuclear-weapon-capable, the unit came under the command of Eighth Air Force — although Terrill Samson definitely treated the unit from Battle Mountain, Nevada, as the long-lost ugly stepchild.

“I never really understood exactly whom Air Battle Force reports to,” Leah admitted. “I assumed it was directly to the Air Force chief of staff’s office. But it’s okay with me for now — I don’t mind being your boss.”

“Thank you,” Dave said. “Besides, I think Patrick already made the request to his command and was denied. As I said, I think he has a legitimate need that we can fulfill.”

“So you decided to go right to Air Combat Command,” Fortuna said. “I don’t appreciate McLanahan’s using you to go over his bosses’ heads. You were smart to upchannel his request, Dave. I hate to say this of Patrick McLanahan, but that man is snake-bit these days. No one wants anything to do with him, because they’re afraid he’ll do something on his own that’ll bite them in the ass. I know he’s a good friend of yours, but I think you should know the buzz about him. He’s gone way beyond what even Brad Elliott supposedly did.”

“I hear what you’re saying, Leah, and I agree,” Dave said, “but he’s much more than just a good friend of mine.”

“I know. A word to the wise, that’s all. What kind of satellite support is he requesting?”

“Two constellations of NIRTSats, launched from a Sky Masters carrier aircraft or from one of the One- eleventh Wing’s Megafortresses, if I can get them recertified; a mix of visual and synthetic-aperture radar, short duration, low altitude, targeting southern Siberia and Sakha provinces. I also want to forward-position a Battle Force ground team to Shemya for possible ground ops in eastern Siberia.”

“Russia, huh? That’s going to have to go right up to the Pentagon, probably right past the chief’s office to SECDEF himself. And you said that Patrick McLanahan requested it?”

“Is that what I said?” Dave asked. “I believe what I said was I was requesting it on behalf of the Air Battle Force, in support of the United Nations peacekeeping operation in Turkmenistan.”

“There you go, Dave,” Leah said. “I think you’ll find that an easier sell, especially after that attack on the CIA base at Bukhara. A little piece of friendly advice, Dave? Don’t tie your star too tightly to Patrick McLanahan. He can be your friend — just don’t let him be your mentor.”

“Can I share the data I get with him?”

General Fortuna chuckled lightly into the secure connection. “Loyal to the end, eh, Dave? Okay, it’s your funeral. And it’s your data — you do with it whatever you want. Air Intelligence Agency gets a copy of all overhead imagery for its databases anyway. Send me your ops plan ASAP, and I’ll give the boss a heads-up and a recommendation for approval to pass to the Pentagon. Don’t send those ground forces farther west than Shemya, or the boss will have your ass for breakfast — after he gets done kicking mine.”

“Understood.”

“Your request will probably need to go to the White House, too — just so you know,” Fortuna continued as she made notes on her tablet PC computer. “Your name and McLanahan’s will be seen by all the suits as well as the brass. Get ready to take the heat. How soon can you have the plan over here?”

Luger tapped a button on his computer. “Transmitting it now.”

“Good. I’ll look it over, but if it’s coming from you, I don’t see a problem.”

“Thanks, Leah.”

“Hey, I still owe you big-time for all the help you gave me in computer-science and math classes at the Zoo,” Fortuna said. “I never would’ve passed without your help.”

“Bull.”

“Maybe, but I still owe you,” she said. “You were so damned smart — and you are so damned cute. Good thing you’re way the hell out there in Nevada.”

“Your husband might agree.”

“Jeez, Dave, has it been that long since we’ve spoken? I ditched what’s-his-name two years ago,” Leah said. “Best thing that ever happened to my career. Men might need loyal, sacrificing wives to get promoted, but women need a good long game on the golf course, and to be able to stay up late, smoke expensive cigars, and bullshit with the politicians and contractors. Once I figured that out, I got my second and third stars with no problem.”

“In that case I think I’d like to come out for a visit and play a few rounds,” Luger suggested.

“I have a feeling you’re going to be busy here real soon,” Leah said, “but I’ll keep the light on for you, Texas. Stop by anytime, big boy. I’m clear.”

When the connection was terminated, David Luger sat quietly, thinking.

Rebecca Furness broke the silence a few moments later. “Sounds like you two were an item, David. So you were the nerdy bookworm at the Zoo who helped all the hard-charging type-A upperclassmen pass the hard-science classes so they wouldn’t get kicked out?”

Luger ignored the comment and turned to Hal Briggs. “Hal, I want to position a few of your guys out in eastern Russia as quickly as possible — Shemya, perhaps?”

“Somewhere close to those Russian bomber bases in Siberia?”

“Exactly.”

“No problem,” Briggs said. “Weather’s improving up there. I’ll start working on getting plenty of special-ops tanker and combat search-and-rescue support — five minutes after takeoff, we’re in no-man’s-land. How many troops are we talking about?”

“Everyone you have available,” Luger said. “If we find that base, I want to be able to take it down right away.”

Furness looked at Luger with an exasperated expression as Briggs stepped over to his console in the BATMAN. “Didn’t you hear what your girlfriend said, David?” she asked. “I know you like and respect Patrick, but he’s way overstepped his authority, and he’s asking you to do the same. Be smart. Don’t do it.”

“Rebecca, I want a couple Megafortresses available to link up with Hal’s ground forces,” Luger said. “Get together with him and plan a cover operation with whatever forces he manages to link up with over there.”

Furness shook her head. “It’s your career, General. You Dreamland guys will just never learn, will you?”