CARRIER 8: ALPHA STRIKE By: Keith Douglass

international waters attempted to offer aid in locating the downed airmen and

the sailors from the ship. Working together with our allies, a few men were

recovered. As soon as practical, they will be repatriated to their respective

homelands. In the meantime, the United States regrets that a tragedy of this

proportion could occur, and offers its condolences to the families of the men

involved.”

T’ing cleared his throat and looked down, as though overcome by emotion.

A staffer reached around from behind him, placing a piece of paper before him.

T’ing slapped the hand away, glanced at the paper, and then shoved it aside.

“Does the ambassador from China wish to respond?” the chairman asked

uncertainly.

She intercepted a keen look of distrust and anger from T’ing, a

millisecond-long flash of belligerence. It was gone as quickly as it had

come. Then T’ing stood.

“On behalf of my government, we thank the ambassador for her condolences.

The events of this morning …” T’ing stopped, feigning momentary emotion,

and thought furiously. If he disputed the ambassador’s version of that

morning, it would inevitably follow that word of China’s defeat would be

circulated immediately. It was intolerable–the loss of face in front of the

Pacific Rim tiger nations would set China’s plan for regional leadership back

generations. On the other hand, her proffered explanation would buy China

time, time to rebuild and rearm, time to further insinuate itself into the

countries bordering the South China Sea.

He glanced at Vietnam and saw Ngyugen’s almost imperceptible shrug.

Whatever China decided, the Vietnamese ambassador would support. Brunei

didn’t even matter, and Malaysia had no proof. In that instant, pitted

one-on-one against the American devil, he decided.

“… are indeed a tragedy,” he continued. “We thank the United States

for her assistance and look forward to the immediate return of our airmen and

seamen.”

The ambassador from the United States rose again. “Those events only

point out the ever more pressing need for a regional plan for the South China

Sea. We must be prepared to move swiftly, to act in concert, to prevent

further loss of life in future storms.”

T’ing gritted his teeth and nodded. It would do no harm to agree now.

Sun Tzu would have understood using the tactical advantage of peace to buy

time to prepare for the next conflict.

CHAPTER 31

Friday, 6 September

Hangar Bay, USS Jefferson

Alameda, California

“Attention on deck!” the Chief of Staff snapped.

The ranks of officers and enlisted personnel stiffened slightly, but made

no other appreciable movement. Even the Navy Band detachment seemed

immobilized as they struck up “Ruffles and Flourishes,” only the conductor’s

right hand beating out the tempo.

Vice Admiral Thomas Magruder strode up the steps to the platform and

returned his nephew’s salute. The band finished with its final bars, and

Tombstone dropped his hand. His uncle greeted old friends on the dais, then

took a seat in the chair slightly to the right of the podium. The colors were

posted, the national anthem played, and the chaplain offered an opening

prayer.

Tombstone stepped behind the podium and adjusted the microphone. There

was no need for it–his staff had checked and double-checked every detail

thoroughly, rehearsing the change of command ceremony until even the most

junior ensign on the Jefferson could have recited every line by heart. The

only part that would be new would be Tombstone’s farewell speech.

He looked out over the ranks of men and women–almost two thousand of

them, the remainder on watch, liberty, or leave–arrayed around the two

hundred metal chairs on the flight deck of Jefferson. Civilians and military

guests from other commands packed the space encircled by the ranks, rustling

their programs and catching up with old friends. His eyes sought out Tomboy

and found her standing in ranks with her squadron. A small smile passed

between them.

It had been his decision to hold the ceremony on the flight deck,

although they’d kept the cavernous hangar bay spotlessly ready in case it

rained. The weather in Alameda, Jefferson’s home port, could be unpredictable

in the spring.

During his early days as a junior officer, Tombstone would have tried to

find some way to get out of attending any ceremony. It had seemed boring

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *