“I told him I’d have to get back to him, seeing as you’d gotten so fond of the Pentagon and all.”
Batman snorted. “Right. If I get it, I’d be relieving you. And be back on the ship I grew up on, so to speak. Hell, I’d arrange for all the other selectees to have accidents if I thought it’d guarantee me this battle group!”
“Still up to DC, of course, but my uncle does swing some weight with the heavies. After his tour on special assignment to the White House, he got to know his way around the Pentagon fairly well. You’d have to cut your tour in DC short-“
“Yes!” Batman cried. “Oh, yes, yes, there is a God!”
“I take it you’d have no objection, then,” Tombstone said dryly.
“And what about you?” Batman said suddenly. “Any idea of where you’re going?”
Tombstone shook his head. “Not a clue. There’ve been a couple of possibilities discussed, but nothing even more than a passing thought. It won’t be to sea, though. Probably DC would be my guess.”
“Well, that wouldn’t be too bad,” Batman said thoughtfully.
“Hah! Look who’s talking! You were just crowing over the chance to get out of there!”
“My situation’s a little different from yours.”
“How so?”
“I don’t have a RIO who thinks I’m the greatest thing since sliced bread. You do. And DC is a hell of a big place, Tombstone. Big enough for one admiral and one lieutenant commander to get lost in the shuffle.”
“What are you saying?”
“Just this, amigo. You’ve got a chance to have something very good with that young RIO of yours. These circumstances — it wouldn’t work, and you’re smart not to try. But you pass on this one when you get ashore, Stoney, and you’re going to regret it. I guarantee it.” For a second, something wistful shone in Batman’s eyes. “She’s a fine RIO, Tombstone, and a hell of a woman. And one of our own. Don’t blow it, okay?”
“Thanks for the advice. I’ll think about it.”
Batman left, clutching the precious stars in his hand. Tombstone watched him go. He’d make a fine admiral, no doubt about it. And if he had to give up command of his carrier group to anyone, he’d have picked Batman.
He scowled and reached for the next folder on top of the pile that threatened to slide off of his desk. During the last week, the normal paperwork associated with running a battle group had accumulated to a daunting stack. In two weeks, USS Lincoln would relieve USS Jefferson on station in the South China Sea, and the logistical issues and lessons learned were responsible for at least half of the folders demanding his attention. Nothing short of a full alpha strike from the mainland would get him out of wading through it today.
He heard a light tap on his door and sighed. COS had extracted a promise that he would spend four hours on paperwork and had guaranteed no interruptions. Tombstone wondered who had managed to sneak past his gatekeeper.
“Come in,” he snapped irritably. “And it better be important!”
The door opened slowly, and Pamela slipped in. “Maybe not in the grand scale of things, but I did want to say good-bye before I got on the COD. We leave in an hour. I promised COS I’d only take up a couple of minutes of your time.”
Tombstone leaned back in his chair and tossed his pen on the desk. “So soon?” he asked. “I thought you might stay for part of the wrap-up or the transit back to California.”
“The story’s not out here anymore, Stoney. It’s back with the politicians. I’ll let someone who likes tamer stories cover that part of it. Besides, Bosnia’s flaring up again.”
“Some things never change, I guess.” For a moment, he envied her. After the challenge of dealing with the Chinese, the trip back to the States was going to be boring. Still, he might actually have a chance to fly a bit more. How much more satisfying, though, to be able to leave when things got slow.
“Some things do change. Like us. It’s been different this time,” Pamela said.
“Has it?”
“Oh, yes, I think so.” She paused, studying his reaction. “You’re different.”
“Think the stars make that much difference?”
“It’s not just the rank, Tombstone. It’s you. Seeing you here, on your ship — knowing what you do, the responsibilities you have. It makes a difference.”
“This is where I wanted to be the entire time, Pamela. I thought you knew that — what it would be like.”
“I knew but I didn’t know.”
They both fell silent. There was no point in resurrecting the perennial argument about their careers. The last time they’d met, they’d decided it would never be resolved, and they’d broken their engagement. While seeing Pamela this time had awakened all of his old feelings, he now recognized that it had been mostly reflexive nostalgia.
“Maybe sour grapes,” Tombstone suggested.
“How so?”
“Being on the ship and all. As much as I’d like to, you know there’s no way that — I mean, how can I expect the crew to — it just wouldn’t-“
“You mean making love?” she said softly.
“Yeah.”
“Tombstone, if that’s all we had, it wouldn’t be much, would it?”
“It’d be a real good start, right now,” he said reflectively. He let his eyes run over her body hungrily.
“And a real dramatic end, if you got caught.”
“There’s that. But maybe an end is in order.”
“After all these years, you’re ready to give up? Leave the Navy?”
“People do. I’ve got over twenty years in. A rear admiral’s retirement pay’s not bad. We could get married. Try living a normal life, maybe.”
“Oh, Tombstone.” Pamela studied him for a moment. “If you’d made that offer ten years ago — hell, even two years ago — I’d have taken you up on it.”
“And now?”
“And now I know better. You’d have hated me for it, in the end.”
“Now’s different. Pamela, I haven’t been in a cockpit on a regular basis for three years — longer if you count that tour of duty at the Naval War College. It’s not fun anymore.”
“Maybe that’s the payback for all those years of flying. In those years of what you call fun, you learned something. You proved that today.”
He was silent for a moment. “I’m grounded, you mean?”
“You know you are. At least, you won’t be flying as much as you used to. You can’t, Tombstone. It’s not fair to your air wing and to the crew.”
“I can’t fly, and you won’t marry me. Somehow, that doesn’t sound like a happy ending.”
“Did they ever promise you one? I thought that’s what duty was all about.”
“Duty means a lot of things. Right now, the only thing I can think about is whether I’ll ever see you again.”
“I’d count on it if I were you, Admiral,” she said lightly. “When you least expect it, perhaps.”
She touched her fingers to her mouth and then brushed them gently against his lips. “That’s permitted on board your ship, isn’t it?”
His lips tingled where her fingers had touched him. “Yes — but this isn’t.” He stood, drawing her to her feet with him, and drew her close. They paused for a split second, and then their mouths locked together, hungry, demanding release from the pressure of the last weeks. His hand caressed her neck, and started downward. He felt the jutting prominence of her collarbones, the soft upper slope of her breasts. Even as he felt his body responding, he knew it was the last time.
“Enough!” she finally gasped, and pulled away. “Any more and I’ll miss my flight. Any second now, COS will be banging on the door, shooing me out.”
“Any more and I’d be joining you on the COD. And if he thought your visit was too long, imagine how he’d feel about that,” he said raggedly.
Good-bye, Stoney,” she said softly. “See you next war.” The door clicked shut behind her.
