rules apply.”
“Roger, copy,” her pilot said. “You know, I was worried about having to
fly with you–thought I’d have to be watching my language and learnin’ how to
be politically correct. But, hell, Fingers–you’re worse than I am!”
She sighed and leaned back against the hard cushion. She rubbed the
small of her back with both hands. Flying sideways had definite disadvantages
to it.
“Listen, Rabbit, you think I would want to spend eight hours a day with
people who were always watching their damned language? Flying with somebody
paranoid? Hell, we can’t be a crew like that! You have to be able to talk to
me. I have to know that you’re going to listen to me when I tell you to get
the hell out of Dodge, and you have to be able to talk to me to stay away.
It’s not like you’ve got anything else to do up there.”
“Aw, fuck you, Fingers. If you’d had the eyesight, you’d have been a
pilot, too!”
You’ve made that offer before, Rabbit. Someday I’m going to take you up
on it.”
He heard the enlisted technician snicker. “She’ll call your bluff
someday, Rabbit,” he said. “Or maybe not–maybe she’s heard how you got that
call sign!”
“Hey, you too? What the hell happened to male bonding?” the pilot
whined.
“Replaced by RIO bonding,” he said. “I’ll take smart-wearing-glasses
over stupid-with-good-eyesight any day!”
“How about taking new contacts over blank screens instead?” Fingers said,
suddenly all business. “In your sector, Jamie.”
“Got him,” the technician replied. “Classify it as a Flanker, based on
the radar and speed. Loitering in area, it appears. He’s doing the same
thing we’re doing, hanging around watching.”
“So we watch him while he watches us,” she said softly. “And we wait to
see who blinks first. I’d sure as hell feel a lot better with a TER right
now.”
“We don’t need no stinking weapons,” the pilot grumbled. “At least
that’s what they told us in the brief. We’ve got the Aegis to protect us,
right?”
“YeA, the Aegis and a satellite. I’m feeling real secure,” Jamie said.
“You and me both, brother,” Fingers said softly. “You and me both.”
1010 local (Zulu -7)
Combat Direction Center
USS Vincennes
“Keep a close eye on that Flanker,” the captain ordered. “If the balloon
goes up, I want to be ready.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” the TAO said. A week ago, he might have been tempted to
dismiss the captain’s order as more of the reflexive paranoia he’d come to
associate with the man. Now, since the missile shot last week, the CO’s
premonitions didn’t seem nearly as unreasonable. Sure, the Chinese were
claiming they’d been provoked into firing after the Aegis had locked up their
MiG. But with the new cool-down policy, that E-2 had to be feeling awful
lonely up there without CAP. No matter that the Admiral thought it’d ease the
tensions in the area to stand down the number of flights. He wasn’t the one
on the front line.
The TAO was. And he didn’t like the feeling one little bit.
“We’ll be ready, Captain,” he said, keying the Combat circuit as he
spoke. A series of clicks cluttered the circuit for a moment, acknowledgment
from the other operators. “We are ready,” he amended.
1045 local (Zulu -7)
TFCC
USS Jefferson
“Phase One,” Tombstone said to Ops. “They know we’re there.”
“Now let’s get them thinking the way we want them to,” he said, glancing
at CAG.
“Already scheduled. They’re going to see the Hawkeye relieved every six
hours. No tanking, no CAP, just the little ol’ Hawkeye up there all by
himself.”
“You’ve got the alert package ready to go?” Ops asked.
“Starting next cycle. We’re skipping this one, giving them some time to
look us over and get lulled into the rhythm of it. Get the crews some rest,
too. It’s going to be a while before they get that, once we start the next
phase.”
“This afternoon,” Tombstone said suddenly. “They’re not going to do
anything right now–they’ll have to talk to their staff, try to figure out how
to use our operations plan to their own advantage. It’s going to take them a