CHAPTER 11
Wednesday, 11 June, 1997
1445 hours Zulu (1445 hours Zone)
CAG office, U.S.S. Thomas Jefferson
Northwest of the Outer Hebrides
“Well, Magruder, how’d you like your first day of sub-hunting?”
Tombstone studied Stramaglia’s bland expression carefully before
answering. “It wasn’t … quite what I’d imagined, sir,” he said cautiously.
The Viking had set down on the flight deck an hour before, and Magruder’s
legs were still stiff from too much time sitting in one position. At one
point the TACCO, Meade, had offered to swap seats with him for a while, but
he’d turned it down. Now he was regretting it.
“Boring as one of my Top Gun lectures, eh, Magruder?” Stramaglia asked
with a lopsided smile. “Well, that can’t be helped. I want you out on at
least one flight a day until I’m sure you know everything there is to know
about ASW. Got it?”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Magruder replied.
“And knock off the formal little sailor routine.” CAG looked down at his
desk. His tone changed, losing the mild bantering manner and becoming grim
and cold. “You heard about the Bear hunt?”
Tombstone nodded. “Sounds like a real mess. What happened up there,
CAG?”
“Goddamn nuggets screwed up, that’s what happened,” CAG growled. “First
one of them wanted to play stunt pilot and got himself in trouble, then his
call made another one decide it was time to rock and roll. A right royal
cock-up from first to last.”
Magruder didn’t say anything. He might have been able to do something to
keep the situation under control if CAG had let him go up with Ajax Flight as
he’d requested, but it didn’t seem like the right time to point that out to
Stramaglia.
There was a knock on the cabin door. CAG looked up and barked out a
quick “Come!” It was Coyote, wearing his khakis now instead of a flight suit
and looking just as grim as Stramaglia. “I’ve got the reports on this
morning, Sir,” he said. He held up a folder in one hand.
“About time, Grant,” Stramaglia said harshly. “Park your butt and let’s
go over exactly what that fine bunch of glory hounds of yours did.”
Magruder started to rise. “I’ll let you-”
“Stay put, Magruder. If you’re going to be my deputy you’d better be in
on this.”
As Tombstone resumed his seat CAG leaned forward and took the bundle of
paperwork from Coyote. Stramaglia deposited the folder unread on the desk and
looked Coyote over slowly. “You lost two men and a plane out there this
morning, Grant … and worse than that, you let your people violate the ROEs
and maybe pushed us into a full-fledged war. Does that sum up the situation
in your estimation?”
Coyote nodded slowly, his face a mask. “Yes, Sir,” he said quietly.
“Got anything to say for yourself?”
Hesitating, Grant looked from Stramaglia to Magruder and back again. “It
was a very fluid situation, Sir,” he replied. “Men can make mistakes
especially when the men have limited experience.”
“Don’t make excuses!” Stramaglia barked. “You are the squadron
commander, Mr. Grant, and that makes you responsible. So don’t hide behind
your men!”
Coyote didn’t answer, but he glanced at Magruder again. There was a long
silence before Stramaglia went on. “If we didn’t need every experienced
aviator in the stable, I’d pull you and that kid … what’s his name? Powers?
I’d pull You both off the flight roster. Him for being an irresponsible
asshole and you for letting an irresponsible asshole run loose. As it is, I
can’t afford to do that. But you can be sure I’m going to have some things to
say that aren’t going to look good in your files, Grant. Do we understand
each other?”
“Yes, Sir,” Coyote said meekly.
“All right. Now on to new business. Odds are our Russian friends aren’t
going to be too happy with us after this one. Washington hasn’t responded
with any official word, but the admiral and I are agreed we need to up our
readiness in case of a retaliation. Capish?”
Grant nodded. “I agree, Sir. Best to take the cautious approach.”
Stramaglia glared at him. “Glad to hear you approve,” he said coldly.