“It’s not intended as one, sir.” Fitzgerald’s lips compressed into a hard, thin line. “This is a good ship, Admiral. And damned good men.”
Vaughn studied him for a long moment. “I want to know I can depend on mem, Captain. And on you.”
“That goes without saying. Sir.” Fitzgerald knew his tone verged on the insubordinate, but he was angry now and working to keep the words formal and correct. It was Vaughn’s responsibility to direct the entire battle group; it was Fitzgerald’s responsibility to hand the admiral a ship he could work with, manned by a well-trained and highly motivated crew. When Vaughn criticized the men, he was criticizing him. That might be Vaughn’s right as CO, but Fitzgerald had the feeling mat the admiral didn’t really care about Jefferson’s crew or bow capable they really were.
And that worried him.
Vaughn did not seem to be aware of Fitzgerald’s anger. “Good. I’ll want you to bring the Jefferson to a new course at once to avoid that submarine.”
“Of course, Admiral.”
“And I want an ASW alert. Get some of your King Fishers Up there in case they’re needed.” The King Fishers, VS-42, were Jefferson’s antisubmarine S-3A Viking squadron. “Intelligence briefing at 0800 tomorrow. I want to discuss our options.” . “Aye, aye, sir.”
“See to it.” Vaughn turned abruptly and strode toward the door. “Oh, and you might speak to your Exec about the mess here in CVIC. I like a taut ship, Captain. Can’t go into combat With gear adrift, hey?” Then he was gone.
26
KeHh Dougtass
ARMAGEDDON MODE
27
Fitzgerald stared after him for a long moment before following. Vaughn, he decided, was still an unknown quantity. An untested quantity.
Well, odds were he would get his testing on this cruise.
1423 hours, 23 March Tomcat 201
‘Tomcat Two-oh-one, charlie now.”
Tombstone heard the words and felt the tension ebb somewhat from his shoulders and back. “They’re calling us in, CAG,” he said. He nudged the stick to the left, putting the Tomcat into a shallow, sweeping curve that would roll it out of the holding pattern several miles astern of the carrier.
“Suits me,” Marusko replied. “My safe little office back on the old bird farm is looking better and better.”
“Viper Two, Viper Leader,” he called, opening the tactical channel. “Batman! We’re charlied. Going in.”
“Roger that,” Batman’s voice replied a moment later. “Save us a cold one. We’re right behind you.” That was almost the literal truth. His wingman was now half a mile behind Tombstone’s aircraft ami three thousand feet higher, locked into the aerial racecourse of the carrier’s traffic control holding pattern, called a Marshall stack. They’d been circling there twenty-one miles from the Jefferson while the Air Boss brought in some S-3A Vikings that had been out on a sub patrol.
Tombstone leveled off. He could just make out the Jefferson’s stem far ahead, a gray rectangle nearly lost on the ocean. The flight decks on Nimitz-class carriers covered four and a half acres, but they looked ridiculously tiny from the cockpit of a fighter plane positioning itself for a trap. As they got closer, his eyes shifted to the carrier’s port side where a yellow speck of light, the “meatball,” or Fresnel optical landing system, appeared centered like a bull’s-eye above the LSO platform.
“Two-zero-one,” the voice of the Landing Signals Officer said over Tombstone’s headphones. “Call the ball.”
“Two-zero-one,” Tombstone replied, identifying his aircraft by number. “Tomcat ball, three point one.” By “calling the ball,” Tombstone was letting the LSO know he had the
landing signal in sight, that the incoming plane was a Tomcat with 3,100 pounds of fuel left on board so Jefferson’s recovery crews would know how to set the tension on the arrester cables stretched across the deck, and that he was properly aligned for a trap.
“Roger ball,” the LSO confirmed. “Looking good.” Tombstone felt his heart begin to race. It was always like this during a carrier landing, day or night, fair weather or foul. Naval aviators without exception rated recovery on the deck of a carrier as having a higher pucker factor than air-to-air combat or an enemy SAM launch.