Lab Rat smiled a little. “I was hoping you might ask that.”
“This better work,” COS said grimly. He stared at the TFCC big-screen display, watching the small symbol representing the Aegis track to the west. “Otherwise, we’re in serious trouble if China decides to launch an alpha strike against us.”
“Vincennes is fifteen miles off the coast of Vietnam, sir,” the TAO reported. “Sufficient to be outside of territorial waters.”
“She was supposed to move further north,” Tombstone said, eyeballing the distances. “He can probably surveil the northern approach from where he is, but I’d like to give her the additional sensitivity that being closer will give her. I need those famous Aegis eyes and spies giving me more warning. Flankers coming off the coast of Vietnam aren’t the only threat we have to worry about out here — not if Commander Busby’s intelligence estimate is correct.”
“I suggested that, Admiral, but her CO mentioned that he’d prefer the additional reaction time to the additional coverage,” the TAO answered.
Tombstone sighed. “Get him on the horn for me. Private circuit, encrypted — and piped to my cabin alone.”
“Aye, aye, Admiral,” the TAO said, suppressing a grin. He picked up the carrier telephone line to call the communications officer and arrange the patch-through. For just a second, he was tempted to ask for the circuit to be patched to his dialer as well, and then he thought better of it. Aegis had been a pain in the ass all day, ever since the new OP-ORD had gone into effect. Judging from the admiral’s expression, a full two-way duplex circuit wasn’t going to be necessary. This was one conversation that looked like it was going to be strictly one-way.
Within five minutes, the private circuit was patched through to Tombstone’s cabin. The Communications Officer, or COMMO, had gotten quite adept at arranging that particular configuration, since Tombstone found reason to have to speak privately with the Aegis CO on a regular basis.
Tombstone held the receiver to his ear and listened to the hum of encrypted static as he waited for the Aegis TAO to locate his commanding officer. A few moments later, he heard Captain Killington’s distinctive voice.
“You got a problem with your orders, Captain?” Tombstone said frostily.
“No problem, Admiral. Just a couple of questions about our position that I was discussing with your TAO. I wasn’t sure how familiar he was with the nuances of Aegis anti-air capabilities. Moving up north is going to decrease our-“
“I’m aware of everything I need to know about an element of my battle group, Captain. There are reasons for your orders — they were not invented out of thin air simply to make your life more difficult.”
“I wonder if the Admiral is free to share some of those reasons with me,” the Aegis CO said. Even over the encrypted net, the stiff, formally polite tone of his voice was evident. Tombstone could almost understand it. From Vincennes point of view, there were too many submarines in the vicinity of the carrier. Additionally, since the size of battle groups had declined drastically in the last several years, Vincennes was the only truly capable anti-air platform around, doing double duty filling a role that previously would have been supported by at least two cruisers. The only questionable air contacts they’d seen in the last month had come from the coast of Vietnam. Additionally, given the Chinese’s questionable air refueling capabilities, any strike would most likely not come from China’s mainland, but from a detachment deployed to Vietnam.
The sensible AAW coordinating position was off the coast of Vietnam, and quite definitely not so close to land. From the position Tombstone had ordered the Aegis to, Killington would be forced to try for a tail shot against a missile fired at the battle group if a raid did come off the coast.
Unfortunately, Tombstone could not possibly explain his rationale to the Aegis CO, even if he had been inclined to. The real reasoning behind the operational plan was on a strictly limited need-to-know basis, and Killington didn’t need to know. All he had to do was execute a normal Aegis role in the battle group.
“It’s not necessary that you know why. Just that you know where. You do — so get your ass on station,” Tombstone said impassively.
“Aye, aye, Admiral. We’re heading north at flank speed,” Killington said finally, a note of suppressed anger in his voice.
“Not flank speed! Your orders are to use normal transit speeds. Thirty-plus knots is an aggressive posture, and you’re supposed to be assuming a normal patrol station. Listen to me very carefully, Captain. My chief of staff had command of one of your precious Aegis cruisers before he was assigned here. Given any provocation at all from you, I’ll give him a second command. Yours. Got that?”
“Yes, Admiral.”
Tombstone slammed the receiver down and then switched the dialer off the private frequency. He stared gloomily at the CCTV, focused on the now-quiet flight deck. So much depended on the Aegis fulfilling her delicate role in the maneuvers! Killington’s request hadn’t been unreasonable — to be filled in on the big picture, and to know how his ship’s orders contributed to it. Still, coming from Aegis, he’d been predisposed to deny the request out of hand. And now, with the Aegis headed north smartly, every hour simply increased the logistic problems associated with flying the CO over to the carrier.
Damn, hadn’t he learned this lesson as a lieutenant commander? The problems associated with managing the highly competent men and women who made up the modern Navy? Wasn’t there some point at which he’d feel certain he was capable of doing his job and leading his people?
Tombstone sighed. Too much depended on this plan coming off exactly as planned.
CHAPTER 17
“You set?” Bird Dog asked as he tucked his kneeboard in over the preloading button on his G-suit. Sudden acceleration would depress the button and activate the suit before it could react automatically. One more thing that could go wrong, something in the back of his mind noted, another little mechanism for killing pilots: gray out and unconsciousness brought on by high G-forces.
I might not even know, if it was bad enough. Be in the drink in seconds if I passed out. Cold seawater, hot jet engines, big explosion. It’d be fast, anyway. God, at least don’t let me stay conscious. Don’t let me have to watch it.
An involuntary tremor shook him, and he pushed the thoughts away. This was no time to be thinking about the dangers he faced every day, not while sitting on the cat. Keep your mind in the cockpit, idiot. That’s what kills more pilots than anything else — getting distracted at just the wrong minute and forgetting to fly the aircraft. Look at Gator. He’s done this a million more times than you have, and you don’t see him sweating the load.
Bird Dog glanced in the mirror and saw the RIO give one last tug on his harness. Ice-blue eyes, framed by the flight helmet and the face mask, met his. Gator gave him a thumbs-up.
“Ready now,” Gator answered.
Bird Dog snapped off a salute at the handler and pressed his head and back hard against the back of the seat. Seconds later, he felt the first slight motion of the Tomcat. The steam piston rammed forward to the bow of the ship, accelerating the F-14 to 145 knots in six seconds. Catapulted off the carrier at just above stall speeds, the Tomcat clawed for airspeed and attitude, but settled for just staying airborne.
“Always a miracle,” Gator said, taking a deep breath.
“I haven’t let you down yet, have I?” Bird Dog asked, trying for a light note in his voice.
“First time’s the last time. So you know where we’re heading?” Gator asked, abruptly changing the subject.
“You think I wasn’t paying attention at the brief? South.”
“South is the right answer, my man. You get the nose pointed that way, I’ll give you a vector.”
Bird Dog winced as he thought back to the one time he hadn’t managed to keep the aircraft pointed in the
