shattered into pieces. Instead of reducing power and taxiing to his spot, Tombstone eased the throttles back. The hard scream of the Tomcat died. The aircraft rolled backward slightly in response to the pull from the three-wire. Tombstone applied his nosewheel brake, waited for the tension to ease off, then retracted the tail hook and popped the canopy.
Tombstone reached down to safe his ejection seat, then stood. He swung one leg over the side of the aircraft, groping for the foothold, then descended to the deck.
There was a moment of confusion on the deck, then the yellow shirts stormed across nonskid and clambered up the boarding ladder. Jeremy unfastened his ejection harness and climbed into the front seat. He popped the brakes, taxiied to the spot, and ran through the shutdown checklists. There were still Tomcats in the air that needed to get down on deck, and they couldn’t land until this aircraft moved.
Tombstone walked blindly across the deck, saying nothing. Her voice drowned out the rest of the world. Two white-shirt safety deck observers were shortly joined by Admiral Grant. A corpsman slipped in beside him, followed shortly by a doctor. The rest of the flight deck crew formed a protective circle around him.
Tombstone disappeared into the skin of the ship. Greene watched him go.
TWENTY-THREE
Pamela had just returned from the shower and was toweling off her wet hair when she heard the announcement over the 1MC. The ship had been at flight quarters for a couple of hours, but that was no big deal. After all, this
But the bongs from the ship’s bell startled her. She glanced at her clock to see if they were chiming the hour for some reason, but it wasn’t time for bells. The carrier had never used bells for hours regularly anyway.
And the bongs continued, on and on and on. She counted, stopping at eight.
Who the hell? Only top officials, up to and including the president, rated eight bells. She shoved her hair into some semblance of a style, grabbed her tape recorder and her sunglasses, and headed for the flight deck. Her cameraman was smart — Jeff would meet her there. He knew what eight bells meant.
There was a crowd of people heading for the flight deck and she went with the flow, up the ladders and then out the hatch into the bright sunshine. To her surprise, several hundred sailors already stood in formation in their white uniforms. The captain, executive officer, and the admiral stood at a microphone stand in front of them.
As she watched, the helicopter hatch opened. Two lines of sideboys formed up, all immaculate in dress whites. Bells, sideboys — who exactly was this?
Seconds later, she knew. Six men in dark jumpsuits wearing sunglasses and caps emerged, fanning out around the sideboys. They checked the crowd carefully, then one of them turned back to the helicopter.
A familiar figure — tall, dark hair with silver along the edges, and bright blue eyes — emerged. He seemed at home on the flight deck, entirely comfortable with the military honors being rendered, and returned the salutes tendered snappily.
An awards ceremony, then. So why wasn’t it announced? And who was it for? A number of names came immediately to her mind, and she swore silently about the public affairs officer’s failure to notify her about the ceremony. No, it wasn’t hard news, but it was good human interest stuff.
Her cameraman had arrived and stood by her side. He was already rolling as the president emerged from his helicopter.
The admiral saw them, and to her amazement, the admiral and a president began walking toward her. She had a brief, irrational impulse to curtsy, which she suppressed immediately.
“Ms. Drake,” the president said. “How are you feeling now?”
“Fine, Mr. President. None of us suffered any injuries.”
“Well, fine. I’m afraid I have some bad news for you, Ms. Drake.” The president’s expression was somber. Pamela felt a flash of anger. Tombstone had promised she was out of purgatory. If the president thought he was going to get good press for this ceremony, he had another think coming.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. President. Of course, the freedom of the press has always been something you’ve supported. If you intend to reinstate the admiral’s policy of barring the press from significant events, then I’m afraid I will have to—”
“Ms. Drake, I think you want to shut up right now,” Coyote said, a huge grin breaking out on his face. “The bad news is not that we’re going to get rid of you. It’s that for once in your life, perhaps the first and final time, you are the last one to know something.”
“What?” Pamela searched for words, unable to figure out why both the president and the admiral were grinning at her. Then the admiral stepped to her side, offered her his arm, and said, “You are the guest of honor at this little ceremony, Ms. Drake. And I would be honored to escort you to the podium.”
She turned to her cameraman and was not surprised to see him laughing at her, still taping. “You knew,” she said accusingly.
“Listen to the admiral, Drake,” Jeff said.
Five minutes later, Pamela Drake was sporting a defense metal on her lapel. And trying desperately to figure out how she was going to explain it to her boss.
GLOSSARY
0–3 LEVEL: The third deck above the main deck. Designations for decks above the main deck (also known as the damage control deck) begin with zero, e.g., 0–3. The zero is pronounced as “oh” in conversation. Decks below the main deck do not have the initial zero and are numbered down from the main deck, e.g., deck 11 is below deck 3. Deck 0–7 is above deck 0–3.
IMC: The general announcing system on a ship or submarine. Every ship has many different interior communications systems, most of them linking parts of the ship for a specific purpose. Most operate off sound-powered phones. The circuit designators consist of a number followed by two letters that indicate the specific purpose of the circuit. 2AS, for instance, might be an antisubmarine warfare circuit that connects the sonar supervisor, the USW watch officer, and the sailor at the torpedo launch.
AIR BOSS: A senior commander or captain assigned to the aircraft carrier, in charge of flight operations. The “boss” is assisted by the mini-boss in Pri-Fly, located in the tower on board the carrier. The air boss is always in the tower during flight operations, overseeing the launch and recovery cycles, declaring a green deck, and monitoring the safe approach of aircraft to the carrier.
AIR WING: Composed of the aircraft squadrons assigned to the battle group. The individual squadron commanding officers report to the air wing commander, who reports to the admiral.
AIRDALE: Slang for an officer or enlisted person in the aviation fields. Includes pilots, NFOs, aviation intelligence officers, maintenance officers, and the enlisted technicians who support aviation. The antithesis of an airdale is a “shoe.”
AKULA: Late-model Russian-built attack nuclear submarine, an SSN. Fast, deadly, and deep diving.
ALR-67: Detects, analyzes, and evaluates electromagnetic signals, emits a warning signal if the parameters are compatible with an immediate threat to the aircraft, e.g., seeker head on an anti-air missile. Can also detect an enemy radar in either a search or a targeting mode.
