CARRIER 8: ALPHA STRIKE By: Keith Douglass

ass and your boat closer than fifteen miles away from the coast, I’m going to

helo over to your ship, walk up on your bridge, and publicly castrate you.

And then I will relieve you of your command. Do you understand me, you

idiot?”

The Aegis CO choked out a “Yes, Admiral.”

“From now on, I am going to be taking particular note of the operations

involving Vincennes. Every time I look at the screen in combat, I’d better

see your ship so tightly in the middle of her screen position that it’d take a

crowbar to pry you loose. There had better never be a question in my mind

about what you are doing, where you are going, or what you are thinking. Is

that absolutely clear, Captain?”

This time, Killington could only nod.

“Get back to your ship. Don’t let this happen again.”

The Aegis CO rose and walked to the door. In the few steps that it took

him to get there, he regained a portion of his composure. With his hand on

the doorknob, he turned back toward Tombstone.

“I thank the admiral for taking the time to instruct me in basic rules of

engagement for this part of the world. Be assured, Admiral–I won’t forget

our conversation.” His face was carefully neutral during his statement.

“Get out, before I change my mind and relieve you now,” Tombstone said in

a deadly quiet tone.

CHAPTER 8

Saturday, 29 June

0800 local (Zulu -8)

Operations Center

Hanoi, Vietnam

We will be increasing the size of the garrison here immediately,” Mein

Low said. “Your logistics officer will meet with mine to discuss the

details.”

“May I ask why?” Bien forced a neutral tone into his voice. The ten

Chinese Flankers currently on “temporary assignment” to Vietnam were already

straining the resources of the small training base.

“Increased training opportunities,” the Chinese officer replied. “Your

men have made excellent progress in air combat. It is time to take the next

logical step in this evolution and begin experimenting with squadron-level

tactics rather than one-on-one combat. To support that, I need more than one

squadron here.”

“I will have to discuss this with my superiors, of course,” Bien said

politely. “It will take some time to make preparations for more aircraft.”

“The next squadron will arrive next Tuesday,” Mein Low said, as though

his Vietnamese counterpart had not spoken.

“I’m not certain-”

“Four days from now, Bien.” Mein Low fixed Bien with an impassive,

vaguely threatening look.

So finally the Chinese show their hand! Bien thought. I warned the

government against this very scenario. Once China has a presence inside a

country, they can be very difficult to dislodge. They are the perpetual

unwanted houseguests who far overstay their welcome–haven’t we at least

learned that during the last twelve centuries? And to refuse this additional

deployment will be an invitation for them to extend their presence by force.

The politicians who were eager to consolidate their recent gains in power

had been eager to take advantage of the advanced air-power training the

Chinese had offered. Bien’s concerns had been dismissed as old-fashioned, his

fears as paranoia.

“In addition to more advanced training for your countrymen,” Mein Low

puffed, “there will be other exciting opportunities to advance your regional

security. Our squadrons will also be deploying to Malaysia and Brunei, to

assist their programs. Within months, you will have the capability to make

the South China Sea an impenetrable fortress. Never again will you see the

Americans invading your soil, destroying your unity! With our help, you will

be invulnerable.”

I heard those arguments six months ago, when your first aircraft arrived

It was that very concept that sold the politicians on this entire

evolution–that we would develop the capabilities to withstand another

American invasion. But if the Soviets were difficult masters, how much worse

the Chinese will be!

But there was nothing to be won jousting with the Chinese commander, not

when his own politicians failed to see the dangers. Bien bowed politely,

leaving Mein Low’s office deeply worried about the future of his country’s

independence.

1100 local (Zulu -7)

Hornet 401

Spratly Islands, South China Sea

Most of the battle group wheeled to the west, steadied on a course of

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