CARRIER 2: VIPER STRIKE By Keith Douglass

trigger a war.”

“If that’s what it takes-”

“Knock it off, Commander. We’re not at war with Burma, okay? And the

Thais don’t need that kind of pressure right now. Not with an all-out

insurrection going on up there, not with all the rumors floating around

about a possible coup attempt. I’m afraid we’re going to have to let

them handle this their way.”

“Their way. What’s that … sit back and wait for Batman and Malibu to

walk out of the jungle on foot? Good God, they could be lying up in

those hills hurt, or dangling from their harnesses in a tree!” Tombstone

licked his lips. “Look, CAG. Maybe we can’t send the wing up there,

but how about just a couple planes? A sneak-and-peak TARPS. I’d like

to-”

“Negative.” Marusko’s voice was flat. “The word is to wait, let

Bangkok handle it.” He folded his hands on the desk. “Look, Stoney, I

know how you feel.” Marusko’s usual casual warmth returned. He ran a

hand through his hair and leaned back in his seat. “Why don’t you take

the rest of the day of?

Catch the bus into Bangkok, get your mind off it.”

Tombstone considered it. He’d enjoyed the day he’d spent in Bangkok

with Pamela and had been entertaining hopes of seeing her again. Now,

though, knowing Batman was down … maybe dead … the prospect felt

like torture.

“If it’s all the same, CAG, I have some paperwork to catch up with.” He

stood, and the chair’s legs scraped the deck like nails on a blackboard.

“I’d scuttle that paperwork if I were you, Stoney. I suggest you-”

“Will that be all, sir?”

CAG scowled. “That’s all.”

“Thank you, sir.” He turned and strode through the door, his thoughts

whirling. He found himself thinking again about Pamela. It was

strange. He very much wanted to share his grief and worry with someone

… but not with Pamela, not when he was still trying to puzzle out the

newly awakened feelings for her which he had only just discovered.

Talking with her about Batman right now would feel too Much like a play

for sympathy.

Besides, how could she know what losing a friend like Batman was really

like? That special camaraderie among combat aviators was something not

shared with outsiders, mostly because they simply were not expected to

understand it, couldn’t understand it without having been part of the

fraternity themselves.

Briefly, Pamela’s words about the death of her brother returned to him,

but Tombstone dismissed them. It didn’t really matter whether she could

understand or not.

Bitterly he strode down the passageway toward his quarters.

1015 hours, 18 January

CATCC, U.S.S. Thomas Jefferson

The darkened chamber of CATCC seemed quieter than usual this morning,

and Howard felt as though every one of the men in the room was waiting,

listening to hear what he had to say. Somehow, he forced himself to

walk across the deck to the raised swivel chair where Chief Paulsen sat

sipping a mug of coffee while reading the morning report.

It was the hardest thing Howard had ever tried to do in his life.

“Chief?” he said.

Paulsen did not look up. “Yeah, kid?”

“Chief, I gotta talk to you.” He glanced around the room. “Alone …

please?”

His section chief considered for a moment, then heaved himself out of

the chair. Setting the mug down, he jerked his head toward the

passageway.

“Okay. C’mon.”

Howard sighed and followed.

He’d waited at the bar for two and a half hours after leaving the

others, wondering if Bentley and the others were ever going to come back

for him.

He’d been half afraid his desertion had made them mad enough to leave

him there.

Then he’d started getting worried. Bentley might pull a trick like that

on a raw nugget, but Howard thought that Rodriguez and Paterowski

actually liked him. They’d have come back for him.

It was nearly midnight when Howard decided he had to leave. The last

bus to Sattahip left from in front of Lumpini Park on Rama Four Road at

0100, and if he missed it, he’d be marked AWOL–absent without leave–in

the morning muster. That could lead to a captain’s mast and