CARRIER 8: ALPHA STRIKE By: Keith Douglass

career–often just for the amusement of it–with a few well-placed words.

Until then, Batman would have sworn that a blue-on-blue engagement could only

happen on the battlefield.

But this was Tombstone, he reminded himself. His lead, the pilot he’d

logged thousands of hours with, done four cruises with, the man who’d bailed

him out of more tough situations than he wanted to think of. No, if Tombstone

wanted to do Batman harm, it’d come in the form of a fist in the gut rather

than a knife in the back. Batman took a deep breath and vowed that this was

his last DC tour.

“It’s not safe, Tombstone. It’s not safe, and you know it. Sending

those E-2C’s out there on their own–hell, what do you even need them up for?

The Aegis can give you every bit of air picture you need! Sending those

fellows out alone, with no protection at all, under these circumstances, makes

no sense at all!” Batman paused midtirade, watching his friend.

His nickname had always suited him too well, Batman thought. Tombstone’s

gray eyes, brown-black hair, and somber expression would have suited an

undertaker better than an aviation admiral. Yet Batman had seen the

impenetrable gray pools of his eyes flare with inner fire, and heard the hard

excitement too many times in Tombstone’s voice to believe that he was really

as cold as his subordinates believed.

“You think so, Captain?” Tombstone’s icy voice cut through Batman’s

reflections.

“Naw–hell, no, Admiral,” Batman said uncomfortably. He forced himself

down onto the couch, suddenly acutely aware of how inappropriate it was to

treat an admiral–any admiral, damn it!–that way. “Sorry, sir. My mouth-”

“-got the better of you, as it often does,” Tombstone finished. “Some

things never change,” he said, shaking his head sadly.

Batman’s head snapped up, and he stared at Tombstone suspiciously. Was

that a glint of amusement he saw in the admiral’s eyes? “Sir, if I didn’t

know better, I’d swear you’re laughing at me.”

“Not at you, Batman–with you. Or at least I will be in a couple of

seconds. Let me show you,” Tombstone continued, reaching across his desk to

snatch a message and a chart off his credenza, “exactly what we’re up to.

Your JAST birds are a part of this plan.”

CHAPTER 19

Wednesday, 3 July

1800 local (Zulu -7)

Flight Deck

USS Jefferson

As the sun dropped down toward the horizon, the heat rising off the

flight deck abated enough to entice runners out onto the decks between flight

cycles. Bird Dog jogged aft, feeling the sweat pouring off his back and

working out the stiffness that came from sitting cramped in a cockpit for six

hours that day. The humid air made any exertion doubly tiring, but the chance

to get some exercise was not to be missed. Tucked in various strange

compartments within the carrier were three weight rooms and one bicycle alley.

In various other stray corners, an occasional exercise bike would be placed.

While the carrier went to some length to try to make fitness available at all

times, no machine could offer the same sheer joy as being out on the flight

deck running.

As he ran past two VF-95 Tomcats, he noticed a familiar figure perched on

the step next to the cockpit. Even from fifty feet away, he recognized the

slim figure barely concealed by coveralls and the shock of short blond hair.

Veering off his track, he headed for the aircraft.

“Shaughnessy! What the hell are you doing?” he snapped, coming to a stop

next to her Tomcat.

The young airman flinched and almost lost her balance. “Just checking

that the seat is safed, sir,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “Parariggers

were doing some work in here earlier, and I just wanted to double-check it.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it! You’re on extra duty,

Shaughnessy. That doesn’t mean screwing around with the aircraft, it means

under close control of the squadron master at arms. You miss his muster,

you’re UA, young woman. Now get down there!”

Shaughnessy stared at the deck, unwilling to meet his eyes. “Aye, aye,

sir,” she said softly, her voice barely audible in the wind across the flight

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