CARRIER 6: COUNTDOWN By Keith Douglass

“That is all.”

“Attention on deck!”

He strode from the room, and Chris wondered why he looked so grim. This

was what every naval aviator spent his or her whole life training for,

this moment.

She joined the others as they crowded up toward the front of the room,

examining the Kola Peninsula map and asking questions of Coyote. Her

aircraft, she saw, would be covering an Intruder strike against SAM

batteries just west of Polyamyy.

CHAPTER 21

Monday, 16 March

1610 hours (Zulu +2)

Flight deck

U.S.S. Thomas Jefferson

“God damn it, Ski! What the hell do you mean, ‘downgrudged’?”

Lieutenant Commander Frank Marinaro was livid, and for one moment, Joyce

Flynn thought the man was going to slam his flight helmet to the deck in

anger and frustration.

Tomboy Flynn, Nightmare Marinaro, and their plane captain, Chief Michael

Cynowski, were standing at the port-side edge of the flight deck forward

of the island. Several of VF-95’s Tomcats were parked there, folded

wings almost touching, their maintenance crews readying them for launch.

“Sorry, Commander,” Cynowski said. He had to shout to make himself

heard above the scream of jet engines, the air-hammer racket of the

buffers. He wore a plane captain’s brown jersey, and a bulky Mickey

helmet. “Your AWG-Nine’s burned out. Looks like a coolant switch

fault, most likely. We’ll have to swap it out, and that’s gonna take

time.”

“How much time?”

“What?”

“I said how much fucking time!”

“Sir, I just don’t have the manpower right now!” Cynowski held up the

clipboard in his hand. “My boys’ve been goin’ round the clock here for

longer’n I like to think. Hell, we’ve got their scheds juggled

between-”

“Damn it, Ski, I don’t want to hear your sob story! How long before

Two-oh-four is back on the line?”

Cynowski’s face hardened. “Not until we secure from flight quarters.

Sir. Two days … and that’s if the brass stays off our backs!”

Nightmare was the coolest, steadiest aviator Tomboy knew, but at the

moment he looked like he was going to lose that cool completely. She

could understand his anger. Right now, there were no spare Tomcats

aboard save for the CAG bird, and it would take time to bring

Two-double-nuts to the ready.

It looked like Nightmare and Tomboy were going to be staying put while

the squadron launched without them.

Nightmare looked like he was about to say something else, but at that

moment an A-6 Intruder taxied past the line of Tomcats, rolling slowly

toward the number one catapult. The roar of its engines was deafening,

and the wash from its exhaust battered at Tomboy’s face, slapping at her

flight suit and forcing her to turn away. Nightmare quickly pulled his

helmet on and waited until the A-6 reached the cat shuttle and the noise

abated somewhat.

Suddenly, he seemed to relax. “Okay, Chief. Forget it. C’mon,

Tomboy.”

“Where we going, Nightmare?”

“Ops. Maybe we can use Stoney’s bird.”

Together, they turned and strode aft toward the island.

1615 hours

Intruder 504, Catapult One

U.S.S. Thomas Jefferson

Lieutenant Commander Bruce “Willis” Payne was uncomfortably aware of the

woman seated next to him. In an A-6 Intruder, the pilot sits on the

left, with the bombardier/navigator in the narrow seat to his right and

slightly below and behind his position. According to All the World’s

Aircraft, the heart of the A-6 was the AN/ASQ-133 IBM computer which

controlled the aircraft’s Norden AN/APQ-154 multimode radar, but any

Intruder driver with more than an hour of flight time logged would

insist that the real heart was his B/N, squeezed in eyeball-to-eyeball

with the radar scope projecting aft from the console. But damn! …

Payne’s B/N so far this cruise had been Lieutenant Thelma Kandinsky,

“Sunshine” to her shipmates. She was pretty and pert and Payne loved

imagining what she’d be like in bed, but he still couldn’t accept her as

expert enough to find her way through that maze of indicators and

electronics in her face, no matter what Tombstone Magruder might think.

The tail-chewing he’d received a couple of days before still burned …

and rankled.

“Damn it, Payne,” Tombstone had bellowed into his face. “These women

are our shipmates and they’re here to stay! They can do the job as well

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