He proffered a comradely smile to the distraught GCI operator.
“What is absolutely inconceivable is how this entire affair began,” the GCI said slowly. He looked up at Yuri, a pleading expression on his face. “We did not launch that missile?it would make no sense at all for us to do so. The General Dynamics plant, the military assistance and foreign aid that we receive from the United States?we would not throw that all away.”
Yuri held up his hands as if to forestall all further protests. “We have no doubts about that. That is why Ukraine is here, ready to assist our good neighbor in any way possible. If this weapon was of Turkish origin?and let me say that we have doubts about that?then the attack was surely executed without the consent or permission of your government.”
“What do you mean?” The GCI operator’s eyes narrowed.
Yuri shrugged. “The possible explanations are obvious. One merely has to ask the question: Who would benefit from a conflict between Turkey and the United States? And I believe the answer lies to the east.”
“Iraq?”
“Who else?”
The GCI operator appeared to give it some thought. “I had heard the theory discussed, but never completely analyzed. It does make some sense, though. If the United States abandons us, we would have no choice but to look for other sources of support for our national security objectives.”
He shuddered slightly. “But the mad dogs who inhabit Iraq?I am Muslim, of course, but I am Sunni, not a Shiite. The differences between the two have never really been understood by the United States.”
Yuri touched the man soothingly on the shoulder. “We understand, of course. Ukraine possesses a large, peaceful population of Sunni Moslems, all good citizens of our nation.”
“Perhaps it is time for Turkey and Ukraine to pursue a closer relationship,” the GCI operator said slowly. “Of course, this is hardly my decision?I simply control aircraft. But I think that it might make much sense to many of my fellow countrymen.”
A sour look crossed his face. “Anything other than closer ties to the Shiites.”
Yuri left the matter as it stood, not wanting to appear conspicuous by engaging in an extended political discussion with a mid-grade officer. It did no harm, however, to plant the seeds of thought in the man’s mind.
Over the last two days, he had observed that the GCI operator was well liked by his peers, a gregarious and social man who commanded a degree of respect for his thoughtful political and religious statements.
Seeds sprout slowly in this rocky country, Yuri thought, and any beginning is a good one. Let us see how this will affect matters. It cannot help but provoke discussion, and further conceal our true objectives. Every officer on the Ukrainian support mission would be pursuing similar objectives within their own pay grades. With a groundswell of junior briefing officers noting the similarities between Ukraine and Turkey’s interests…
“Stoney, you need to get your star-studded butt back over to Jefferson,” Batman’s voice snapped over the radio circuit. “It’s absolutely untenable for a Sixth Fleet to remain on board that hulk any longer. There’s no reason for it. After that run the Falcon made on Admiral Latterly’s helo, you don’t need to be taking any chances.”
“I’ve been in command a little over two hours and you’re already urging me to quit?” Tombstone asked. He held up one hand as if to ward off the angry words streaming out of the speaker.
“It’s not a question of quitting at all. You should simply shift your flag back to the Jefferson where it’s supposed to be. That was the plan originally. I know you’ve got complete discretion to break your flag wherever you want, but be reasonable about this. Admiral,” Batman continued, switching to a more formal tone of voice, “I can provide air cover for La Salle as she hauls ass back to Gaeta, but if this conflict breaks open any wider, I’m going to need every airframe I have to protect the battle group. What La Salle needs to do is get the hell out of the way and let us run this war from the carrier. Don’t you see?”
Batman’s voice took on an almost pleading quality. “Stoney, it’s the only way.”
Tombstone Magruder sighed. There was too much truth to what Batman was saying for him to so easily reject it out of hand. Still, the situation on board the La Salle had him deeply concerned. It was clear the material condition of the ship had been deteriorating even before the air attack, a result of lack of attention to basic maintenance practices and cleanliness. When he met with the former admiral’s staff, the officers and enlisted personnel had been unwilling to meet his eyes, sullen and unwilling to speak their minds. Had he been going into combat on this ship, Tombstone would have been gravely concerned for their safety.
That’s not the issue now, though, is it?
This ship is not going anywhere except into port?for extended repairs. It will be at least a year before she gets underway as fully mission-capable, maybe longer. Do you really want to try to run this war from a pier in Gaeta, limited to the tactical data aids that survived and a tactical link to a shore-facility?
He knew the answer to that question. You lead from in front, not from behind.
Tombstone reached a decision. He turned to Captain Henry Jouett, La Salle’s commanding officer, a Navy surface captain with twenty-five years in the service. La Salle was Captain Jouett’s fifth at-sea command.
Relationships between flag commanders and the captains of the ships they rode could be a source of real problems. While Sixth Fleet commanded all assets in this part of the world, the commanding officer of his flagship owned the ship on which Sixth Fleet broke his flag. Flag interference with the day-to-day details of shipboard operations was not unheard of, especially when the commanding officer was a true surface sailor instead of an aviator getting his feet wet before going on to the command of an aircraft carrier. The differences between the two warfare communities could give rise to nasty pissing contests.
Captain Jouett’s face, dominated by a strong nose, was weary and lined from the tragedies of the last two days. His expression was cold and impassive. Short, broad-shouldered, and slim-hipped, the man was built like a bulldog. His hair was cut Marine short, sunburnt scalp showing beneath copper-colored hair. Piercing blue eyes stared back.
“I want this ship squared away,” Tombstone said. He watched as an expression of mixed relief and eagerness rearranged the lines in Jouett’s face.
I was right about him. Based on his reputation, I’d lay odds Captain Jouett’s the only man more pissed off over this ship than I am.
“Any problem with that?” Tombstone continued.
“No, Admiral. Not now.” Jouett’s voice was grim.
Tombstone glanced around the room, and caught a couple of sets of eyes glancing furtively his way. “In my cabin,” he said abruptly.
Once inside the admiral’s cabin, which still felt like alien territory to him, he turned to the ship’s CO. “You had a problem with my predecessor, I take it?”
Jouett nodded. “With all due respect, Admiral-“
Tombstone cut off the preliminary and pro-forma disclaimers with a sharp gesture of his hand. “I don’t have time for this now, Captain. You know what I’m up against. I have one question for you?what happens to this ship after I leave?”
“If you take your staff with you, conditions will improve one hundred percent.”
He stood a little taller, looking Tombstone straight in the eye. “I’m a surface sailor, Admiral. I know how to run a ship.”
“I’ve heard that.”
“I can do my job without an aviator trying to grow surface-warfare wings,” the captain replied bluntly. “Admiral, I don’t try to fly your aircraft?no aviator ought to be telling me how to run my ship.”
Tombstone nodded sharply. “Agreed. Captain, you’ve got between now and the time you pull into port at Gaeta to get this ship into proper shape. I’ll be back to take a look at her. You’ve got my support to do whatever is necessary to transform this hulk into my flagship. You run into any problems, you get on the horn to me. Other than that, I’ll leave you alone. That satisfactory?”
The captain smiled. “Oh, I think that will work out quite well,” he said quietly. “Admiral, I’d be honored to have you take a look at this ship in about four weeks. She might not be back up to spec by then, but I think I can show you what a warship ought to look like by then.”
“Then get me the hell out of here. And while you’re at it, manifest that young aviator my predecessor was trying to string up,” Tombstone said.
