however she got there, she’s there. Give me the fly-to points.”
“Coming atcha,” the TACCO answered. “But watch it–we’re getting close
to the twelve-mile limit.”
“You point, I’ll drive,” Rabies said.
At this point, the TACCO thought ruefully, that was about the best he
could manage. He puzzled over the question of how the sub could have slipped
through their net of DICASS buoys.
1336 local (Zulu -7)
Pri-Fly
USS Jefferson
“Come on, it’s just a Tomcat to us,” the Air Boss snapped. “Same weight,
same steam settings. What’s taking so long!”
“Uh, sir–that new Captain is down there,” the phone talker said. “He’s
giving the flight deck crew a hand. Guess he wants to make sure everything’s
copacetic for those birds.”
The Air Boss groaned. “Does he want those JAST birds of his launched or
bronzed? Jesus, that’s all we need–a 0-6 ‘helping’ the flight deck crew. Is
he on the circuit?”
“Yes, Boss. He’s calling the JAST birds ‘Spook.'”
The Air Boss slipped his headphones on and listened. Sure enough,
Batman’s voice was there, talking to the catapult officer on the flight deck
frequency.
“Captain Wayne,” the Air Boss said, a note of urgency in his voice. “I
think we need you up here in Pri-Fly overseeing this.”
“Roger, Air Boss,” Batman’s voice said, recognizable even through the
background howl of the JAST Tomcat engines. “I’m just checking on a couple
of-”
“Now, Captain,” the Air Boss heard another voice chime in. He grinned.
The Admiral had undoubtedly wondered what was taking so long to launch the
JAST birds. He must have turned on the CCTV, seen his former wingman on the
flight deck, and extrapolated the reason for the delay.
“Aye, aye, Admiral,” the Air Boss heard Batman say. “On my way up.” The
Air Boss watched the captain walk back to the Line Shack, handing his headset
to a junior brown-shirted Plane Captain.
“Thank you, Admiral,” he heard a high voice say a few seconds after
Batman had removed his headset, thus severing his link with the flight deck
radio circuit. The Air Boss suppressed a chortle. He wasn’t the only one
who’d been watching Batman leave the circuit.
While he doubted that the Admiral could put a face to the voice, the Air
Boss recognized it as belonging to Aviation Boatswain’s Mate First Class
Winkler, the yellow-shined handler supervising the launch.
Then “You’re welcome, AB1,” the same voice said gruffly, “And stand by to
launch another one of those birds. I have a feeling that the only way I’m
going to be able to keep Captain Wayne out of your hair is to get his other
bird airborne. With the Captain in it.”
The Air Boss blinked. If he hadn’t already known it, he’d just learned a
valuable lesson.
Never underestimate what Admiral Magruder knew.
CHAPTER 11
Saturday, 29 June
1410 local (Zulu -7)
Spook One (JAST Tomcat)
“What the hell is that?” Bouncer muttered. The carrier was vectoring the
JAST Tomcat to the last position of the submarine to provide air cover for the
helicopters and Vikings sowing the ocean with sonobuoys.
“You got something?” Mouse demanded.
“Wait a second–let me tweak and peak a little. Come on, come on,” the
RIO coaxed, practicing his expert knobology on the radar.
“There,” he said a few seconds later. “Things just got shook up a little
on the launch, that’s all. I’m picking up some air contacts to the west. Low
fliers, about five hundred feet off the deck. Flight of four, it looks like.”
“Anybody else got them?”
“Nope. Vincennes is checking right now, but they’re not holding anything
along that bearing.”
“But you’ve got video there?” Mouse persisted.
“Sure do. Four solid blips, speed 450 knots, on a bearing that will take
them just north of the carrier.”
“Let’s go take a look, then,” the pilot said, tilting the nose of the
modified Tomcat down. “We might as well find out if this PFM gear works.”
“Might want to have some backup. You got people firing missiles around
here, Mouse,” Bouncer said uneasily. At that airspeed, and heading for the
carrier, the contacts weren’t likely to be commercial airliners.
“One Tomcat is enough for a look-see,” Mouse argued. “We need help, the