boys on the front lines!”
“Touchingly put, Admiral,” Waring said. “And I take your point.
However, as Gordon here tried to point out, there are political realities
which must be addressed. Realities which shape our policy and give it
substance.” He hesitated, placing the tips of his fingers together delicately
before him. “Perhaps Admiral Magruder has hit upon something, though. We
should not, ah, micromanage the situation. Perhaps the thing to do would be
to allow the commanding officer of CBG-14 the fullest possible freedom in
carrying out his orders.”
“Which are?” Vane asked.
“Why, to support the Norwegians. To avoid excessive losses to his own
command. To maintain CBG-14 as a viable fighting force and a credible
deterrent to the Soviets. And to maintain for us as wide a selection of
options in the region as possible. I think that about covers it, yes?”
Inwardly, Magruder groaned. They were abandoning the Jefferson. There’d
be no help for her. He could read between the lines of the discussion and see
that the bureaucrats and politicians were arranging for Jefferson’s martyrdom.
He felt sick to the core of his soul. God, Matt, he thought. I’m sorry
…
CHAPTER 16
Monday, 23 June
0330 hours Zulu (0430 hours Zone)
cvic, U.S.S. Thomas Jefferson
Romsdalfjord
The atmosphere in CVIC was charged with an invisible but almost palpable
electricity as Tombstone and his senior CAG staff gathered with Tarrant and
Captain Brandt, the admiral’s senior staff, and the senior Ops staff to sort
out the new and unsettling news flashed simultaneously from Bergen and from
Washington. Tarrant and his flag officers had flown in by helicopter from
Shiloh less than an hour earlier. They’d brought with them new orders from
Washington.
The room was darkened, and a large-scale map of Denmark and the southern
portions of Norway and Sweden was up on the projection screen. Broad,
sweeping strokes in red outlined the latest concentrations of Soviet naval
infantry and the new fronts, now engulfing all of Sjxland and most of the
southern tip of Sweden, from Halmstad to Kristianstad. Arrows and cryptic
notations–numbers, ship names, and times–showed the movements of Soviet
ships north through the Denmark-Sweden strait, with lead elements already
positioned off Lindesnes, the southern-most tip of Norway, and well into the
North Sea proper.
“The main body came through the Oresund nine hours ago,” Paul Aiken said.
The shadow of his pointer traced movements across the map. “The aircraft
carrier Kreml was positively identified by Swedish observers ashore, in close
company with two Kirov-class cruisers–Tallinn and Irkutsk.
“Apparently, Swedish Viggens attempted to organize an attack on Soviet
ships here in the Baltic, but the attack was broken up before it could be
properly organized. A second strike was made late yesterday evening. AJ-37
Viggens outfitted for antishipping operations attacked Soviet warships off
Geteborg. An Udaloy-class destroyer, the Marshal Shaposhnikov, was struck by
Swedish Rb-04E antiship missiles and sunk. A Kresta II-class guided-missile
cruiser, we think she is the Admiral Isachenkciv, was heavily damaged and
appears to be making for port. We also have reports of several smaller Soviet
vessels–corvettes and patrol craft–sunk or damaged by Swedish torpedo boats
or air, but we don’t have any solid data on that as yet.”
Aiken closed his pointer as he turned to face the officers gathered in
the room. “Best information, based on Swedish reports and satellite data,
suggests that the Baltic Fleet deployment includes at least thirty-five ships
of all classes, exclusive of patrol small stuff. As you can see, their losses
so far barely scratch the surface. Lights.”
CVIC’s lights came up, and Aiken looked toward Tarrant. “This concludes
my briefing. Admiral?”
“Thank you, Paul.” Tarrant stood and took Aiken’s place at the front of
the room. He braced one elbow on the podium and paused, seeming to consider
carefully what he had to say. “Well, gentlemen, you see what we’re up
against. This battle group is now facing two major threats. I won’t
underplay the seriousness of our position. CBG-14 is now effectively pinned
between two superior Soviet forces, the Soyuz and supporting elements of the
Red Banner Northern Fleet to our north, and the Kreml and the bulk of the Red
Banner Baltic Fleet to the south. If Jefferson is caught between them–or if