CARRIER 5: MAELSTROM By Keith Douglass

the tradition or experience that had been part of the U.S. Navy’s foundations

since the U.S.S. Langley began air operations in 1922.

Jefferson and her battle group were at a sharp disadvantage here,

fighting superior numbers at the end of an Atlantic-wide logistics pipeline.

Somehow, though, Tombstone thought that those disadvantages were going to be

outweighed by the qualities of training and experiences. tithe men could pull

it together. He was still worried about Coyote.

“Hey, CAG.”

He turned at the familiar voice behind him. “Hello, Batman,” he said.

“You’re up early. What brings you to Vulture’s Row?”

“Just getting a last look at the light of day before vanishing into the

depths of the Magic Kingdom,” Batman replied. He was wearing his aviator’s

jacket against the cool, early-morning breeze. “You know how they like to

keep us in the dark.”

Tombstone grinned. The carrier’s intelligence department was identified

by the letters OZ, and from this had come joking references to the Magic

Kingdom and the Yellow Brick Road. And intelligence–specifically military

intelligence—was always fair game for bantering servicemen. A briefing for

all department heads, squadron skippers, and their execs had been scheduled

for that morning at 0500.

It was just possible, Tombstone thought, that there might at last be some

news about the lost Soviet carrier … and what Jefferson was supposed to do

about her. Since the battle off Bremanger three days earlier, no one in the

battle group seemed to know where Jefferson was going, or what her mission in

these waters was supposed to be.

“Well, they’ll tell us if they know anything,” Tombstone replied. He

leaned back against the railing. The surge and roll of the carrier seemed

magnified this far above the water. The air tasted of salt and jet fuel.

“Have you seen Coyote lately?”

Batman’s eyes narrowed. “Not since last night. Why?”

“Nothing. I was just wondering.”

“Yeah.” Batman joined him at the rail. He looked like he wanted to say

something but didn’t quite know how. “Y’know, CAG. Maybe you should lighten

up on the Coyote. I think he’s up against the wall, and it’s makin’ the rest

of us nervous.”

Tombstone raised an eyebrow. “He tell you that?”

“Shit, of course not. But it’s pretty damned obvious.”

Tombstone frowned. Blast the mystical, macho aura of pride, silence, and

invulnerability that every fighter pilot wrapped about himself like a cloak.

Of course Coyote wouldn’t talk to the other men in his squadron about whatever

was bothering him. That sort of thing wasn’t done.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” Tombstone said coldly. “But if he’s got

a problem, maybe he should come see me.”

“Maybe you’re his problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ah, I don’t know. But something’s got him uptight. We all figured you

must have given him a royal ass-chewing after that CAP incident yesterday.”

Batman shrugged. “Or maybe he’s just taken the Hopkins real hard. I guess

what happened to that frigate could’ve happened to us.”

Tombstone’s eyes involuntarily strayed to the southeastern horizon, where

a tiny black smudge marked the still-burning frigate. At last report, Kearny

and Decatur were taking off the wounded, while damage-control parties

continued to fight the blaze. The Hornets launched moments before were part

of an ongoing Combat Air Patrol deployed to protect the Hopkins from further

attack.

“If I didn’t think Coyote could do his job,” Tombstone said carefully,

“I’d have pulled his wings and right now you’d be the Vipers’ skipper. You

can pass that around to your people, Batman. Straight gouge.”

Batman’s mouth quirked in a half smile. “We all know what a sweetheart

you are, CAG. How about it? You coming down to CVIC?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Tombstone glanced at his watch. “Time to go. After

you?”

In Navy parlance, the word carrier is abbreviated CV, so CVIC stood for

Carrier Intelligence Center, pronounced “civic.” It was a suite of

compartments run by Jefferson’s OZ department. The Intelligence Officer,

Lieutenant Commander Paul Aiken, was giving the early-morning briefing in the

large auditorium–also called CVIC–which served as conference room, planning

center, and even as television studio.

Tombstone followed Batman in, taking a seat next to the Tomcat pilot on

one of the folding metal chairs in the second row from the front. Other

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