third civilian was a woman.
She was lovely, wearing a conservative gray skirt and jacket which
seemed out of place with the disarray of her blond hair–the result,
Tombstone decided, of the cranial she’d worn during the helo flight to
the carrier. Her eyes were a pale, ice blue.
“I’m Pamela Drake, Commander,” she said in a crisp, businesslike tone as
she rose. It was clear immediately that she was the one in charge of
the trio. “American Cable Network. This is my cameraman, Bob Griffith.
My soundman, Hugh Baughman.”
He shook hands with the two in turn. Griffith was the tall, mustached
man, Baughman the one with glasses.
Tombstone exchanged a brief glance with the admiral. “Welcome to our
boat, Miss Drake,” he said.
“Pleased to meet you, Commander.” She raised one perfectly arched
eyebrow at the admiral. “But I don’t care to be patronized. I may be a
civilian, but I know you call something this large a ‘ship,” not a
‘boat.””
“Actually, he’s quite correct, ma’am,” Fitzgerald said. “Aviators
always call their carrier a ‘boat.” God knows why. Even when you get
too old to fly, like me or the admiral here.”
“Mind your manners, Captain,” the admiral said. As Pamela resumed her
seat, he turned to Tombstone. “It seems that you’re something of a
celebrity, son. Miss Drake here has come out to the Jefferson to get
some film clips for a news program special she’s doing. When she found
out you were aboard, well …”
“I don’t understand.”
“Ever hear of a news program called World Focus?”
“Yes, sir.” World Focus was a popular nightly program Stateside, with a
news-magazine format and aired by ACN. Mildly liberal, sharply critical
of the current administration and its foreign policy, the show had never
appealed enough to Tombstone for him to follow it much when he was in
the States. “I haven’t seen it since we were Stateside last, of
course.”
“It’s a one-hour program,” Pamela said. “Five nights a week, covering
current news topics. The closing fifteen-minute slot each evening is a
segment we call Up Close. Generally, we run with a single topic five
nights in a row, examining it from every side, featuring in-depth
interviews, that sort of thing.”
“But what does that have to do with me?” Tombstone asked. He felt
uneasy. Pamela Drake’s direct manner, her no-nonsense tone of voice
made him feel like she had him on camera.
She pursed her lips. “Next week we will be presenting an Up Close
series on Navy carriers, whether they’re necessary in today’s world.
We’ll be linking it to the World Focus pieces we’ll be airing at the
same time on the trouble in Thailand … whether we should be here, what
danger there might be in our getting involved in Thailand, that sort of
thing.”
“And you want Tombstone here for an interview,” Fitzgerald said.
“That’s right.” She gave Tombstone a sidelong look. “‘The Hero of
Wonsan,” the press was calling him a few weeks back. I think we should
feature him in an interview which we’ll work into the carrier piece. Who
is he? What was it like shooting down six North Koreans? What did he
feel about that?”
“Just a damn minute,” Tombstone said. “I didn’t do it for fun …”
“No one said you did, Commander. But now you’re here in Thailand,
presumably carrying out our government’s foreign policy. What are you
doing?
How do you see the situation?” She smiled suddenly. “I think you’d
have a lot to contribute, Commander.”
“Our instructions are to cooperate with you, Miss Drake.” the admiral
said. “You can make arrangements with the Captain here for any shooting
you want to do on board the Jefferson.”
“I’ll do that, thank you. As long as my crew and I are here now, can we
begin with a tour of your ship?” She smiled again, a dazzling display
of perfectly white teeth. “I mean your boat!”
“I don’t see why not,” Fitzgerald said. “Tombstone? Would you care to
show the lady and her people around?”
He did not care to, but one did not tell the Captain that. “Of course,
sir.”
“You’ll have dinner with us this evening, Miss Drake?” The admiral was