rumors about an alpha strike on China, you can put a stop to them. “Any other
questions?” Tombstone concluded. The officers assembled around the table
shook their heads. A few yawned as the gut-wrenching fatigue that always
followed combat Missions set in.
“Go see your squadrons, and then get some sleep,” Tombstone ordered.
“Come see me if any other issues surface.”
He watched them file out of the conference room, remembering how many
times he’d been in their shoes, and then glanced down at the message in his
hand. There was one other piece of good news to deliver, but it could wait
until the morning.
Friday, 5 July
0900 local (Zulu -7)
Admiral’s Cabin
USS Jefferson
“What took you so long?” Tombstone snapped. “I passed the word for you
ten minutes ago. Did you forget how to get to my quarters?”
“Sorry, Admiral,” Batman said. He glanced around the officers assembled
in Tombstone’s cabin, and a puzzled look spread across his face. All six
captains on board the Jefferson were present, along with every squadron CO.
“What can I do for you, Admiral?”
“It’s customary for admirals to call each other by their first names,
Batman,” Tombstone said solemnly. “Although I suppose we’ll need to wait a
few months for the Senate confirmation to make it official.”
“What? Oh, no, you don’t mean it!” Batman exclaimed. Every face in the
room was split with a broad grin. “Oh, shit, Tombstone! For real?”
“Here’s the message,” Tombstone said, a rare smile lighting his face.
“You’re number one on the list selected for promotion to rear admiral. See
for yourself.”
Batman stared at the message, then started to smile. The corners of his
mouth pulled further and further away from each other, until he was grinning
like a Cheshire cat. For once in his life, he was at a loss for words.
“And I wanted you to have these,” Tombstone added. He handed his old
wingman a red-and-white Navy insignia box. “There aren’t many sets in the
ship’s stores, so I had to part with a set of my own. Bring you good luck.”
Batman stared down at the two silver stars gleaming against their white
cardboard backing. “Still come mounted on cardboard,” he said reflectively.
“Funny, I guess I thought once you made admiral, they’d be on black velvet or
something.”
The assembled crowd broke into a line of jostling senior naval officers
queuing to shake his hand and offer their congratulations. One by one, they
started filing out of the office, until Batman and Tombstone were alone.
“You had to surprise me, didn’t you?” Batman said. “Couldn’t let me just
read it on the message board.”
“You would have done it differently if our positions had been reversed?”
Tombstone said gravely, his eyes still warm. “I don’t think so–not after you
forgot to tell me about Pamela being on that COD.”
“Hell of a payback, Tombstone. You’re pissed at me for the surprise, so
you get me promoted just to get even.” Batman shook his head. “The things
you’ll do for revenge.”
“There’re even more surprises in store,” Tombstone said. “Guess who
called me this morning?”
“The president, wanting to offer me his personal congratulations?”
“Almost. My uncle. You know, the old guy with more stars than both of
us put together? He asked me to pass on his congratulations–and one other
thing as well.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, seems like he’s going to have an opening for a Carrier Battle
Group Commander. For this battle group, as a matter of fact. He wondered if
you wanted your name put in the hat for it.”
“He had to ask? Damn, what have you been telling your uncle about me,
Tombstone? Of course I want it! It’d be my first choice!”
“I told him I’d have to get back to him, seeing as you’d gotten so fond
of the Pentagon and all.”
Batman snorted. “Right. If I get it, I’d be relieving you. And be back
on the ship I grew up on, so to speak. Hell, I’d arrange for all the other
selectees to have accidents if I thought it’d guarantee me this battle group!”
“Still up to DC, of course, but my uncle does swing some weight with the