CARRIER 8: ALPHA STRIKE By: Keith Douglass

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

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