CARRIER 4: FLAME-OUT By Keith Douglass

“Mercury Leader, Mercury Leader, this is Domino.” That was the call sign

for Air Ops aboard the Jefferson. The voice sounded worried. Had the carrier

been listening in on the channel, or had the KA-6 called on higher authority

after Tombstone’s demand for another try? “Say your fuel state, over.”

He answered as the Tomcat backed away from the basket and watched it

disappear into the gloom once again. “Point three,” he replied tersely. His

palms were sweaty now, and he didn’t want to be reminded of his fuel state

again. The probe reappeared ahead, almost dead on target, and he started

forward once again. Tombstone knew this would be his last chance.

“Mercury Leader, Domino. Recommend you back away now. We don’t want a

flame-out that close to the Kilo Alpha. Over.”

Tombstone gritted his teeth but didn’t answer. He wasn’t going to give

up yet …

The probe hooked up and he pushed the basket forward. It crossed the

first line … the second … still no green light. Magruder muttered a curse

against Murphy’s Law, gremlins, and careless maintenance men and edged the

throttle further forward. Another stripe disappeared … and another.

The Tomcat’s canopy was only a few feet from the belly of the tanker, and

even in the dark Tombstone thought he could see individual rivets in the

fuselage.

“Darkstar, I’m pushing her all the way in,” he told the pilot. “Stay

frosty and keep her level.”

“Roger that, Mercury Leader,” the pilot replied. “Good luck and may the

Force be with you.” Behind the banter Tombstone knew the other pilot was as

worried as he was.

The Tomcat inched forward …

f

… and the green light came on.

“Yes!” Tombstone whooped. He could feel the plane’s weight increasing as

fuel flowed into the tanks. The Tomcat started to drop back, but Magruder

increased the throttle to hold his precarious position. There was no way of

knowing if the avgas would continue to pump if he let the plane slip back to

the normal position, and he wasn’t about to try this maneuver again.

“Mercury Leader, Darkstar. Are you getting anything? Over.”

“Affirmative, Darkstar,” Tombstone replied. He looked down at the fuel

gauge in time to see it rising above the two-hundred-pound mark. It had been

a damned close call.

He concentrated on holding the Tomcat steady as the fuel continued to

pump into his tanks, easing back after the gauge reported a thousand pounds to

a less dangerous distance. The avgas kept flowing steadily, nearly five

hundred pounds entering the Tomcat’s tanks every minute. Tombstone held the

aircraft in position until he had 3500 pounds aboard, then called the tanker

again. “Darkstar, Mercury Leader disengaging. And we thank you for your

support.”

The tanker pilot gave a chuckle on the other end of the line. “Glad to

help out. Sorry for the trouble.” There was a long pause. “Oh, yeah, almost

forgot. Just before we launched, the boys in Viper Squadron told me to give

you a message, Tombstone. Welcome home!”

2257 hours Zulu (457 hours Zone)

Air Ops, U.S.S. Thomas Jefferson

The North Atlantic

A man-made island far from the nearest dry ground, the U.S.S. Thomas

Jefferson, CVN-74, plowed through the cold, dark waters of the North Atlantic,

her course north-northeast at a speed of thirty knots. America’s newest

nuclear-powered supercarrier, like the other vessels of the Nimitz class, was

one of the most powerful ships of war ever to sail the world ocean. She

measured over a thousand feet in length, with a flight deck that covered four

and a half acres and ample space to house the 5,500 officers and enlisted men

who called her home. As the core of Carrier Battle Group 14, comprising seven

warships and an Air Wing of over ninety aircraft, Jefferson formed the heart

of a naval fighting force of incredible power and versatility.

But sitting near the back of the glassed-in Air Operations room, commonly

known as Primary Flight Control, or “Pri-Fly” in carrier slang, Captain Joseph

Stramaglia couldn’t help but ponder the limitations of that power.

He had decided to monitor flight operations this evening from Pri-Fly,

and had arrived about the time that the ferry mission from Oceana NAS had met

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