since he’d seen sunlight? His daily routine took him from his stateroom to
the wardroom to Combat, with a pre-watch check of the engineering spaces every
six hours. Without the time counter on his screen, he would have lost any
sense of daily rhythm.
Weapons-free if fighters come within weapons release range, he wrote in
the pass-down log. Wasn’t likely that he’d forget to tell the other TAOS, but
it never hurt to write it down. He thought for a moment and then added per
CO’s order and signed his initials with a flourish. It never hurt to cover
your ass, either.
1000 local (Zulu +5)
United Nations
How delicate are the lines we walk, Ambassador Wexler thought, studying
her counterparts. Around the table, the faces staring back at her were fixed
in the same bland expression she held on her own. Ambassador Ngyugen looked
particularly impassive, while Ambassador T’ing radiated the same pervasive
low-level sense of malevolence she’d come to associate with him in the last
year.
“Again, we protest the Chinese exclusionary zone declared in the South
China Sea,” she said, carefully adding a note of indignation to her voice.
“These are international waters, and the warships and aircraft of all nations
have the right to peacefully transit and use them.”
“And has one of your aircraft or ships been denied access?” the Chinese
ambassador said smoothly. “If so, perhaps you could make this committee aware
of that incident?”
“Chinese fighters have flown threatening profiles against our assets in
the South China Sea,” she replied. “As of four hours ago, peaceful American
aircraft have been under interception by your nation.”
“Ah, but you claim every nation has free access to those areas. You must
be consistent–either they are international areas, and we have every right to
be there, or one nation has the right to control access to them and limit the
use of others. If the latter, then I would suggest that authority would fall
to those that border the body of water, not to a nation so many miles distant.
Or do some rules apply only to other nations and not to America herself?”
Rules apply to restrain the conduct of nations such as yours, she
thought. For a moment, she was tempted to give voice to the unspoken and
politically deadly thought. It’s true–and we’ll never say it out loud–that
when nations such as yours learn to act in a civilized manner by international
standards, we’ll quite gladly pull back to our own playpen. But until some
semblance of respect for human rights and the rights of other nations manages
to penetrate your policy, you’re going to have to count on seeing us around.
She heard herself mouthing some bland reassurances automatically,
requesting merely that the Council take note of the instances and posturing
that a formal protest might be filed. It wouldn’t, she knew, and every other
nation around the table knew it as well.
For the time being, the American forces were going to have to walk the
same narrow line between peace and conflict that she did.
1113 local (Zulu -7)
VF-95 Ready Room
USS Jefferson
Tombstone and Tomboy sat side by side in the high-backed leatherette
VF-95 ready room chairs. The chairs formed eight rows, taking up the front
part of the ready room. Tombstone, by virtue of his rank, claimed a front row
seat, and motioned Tomboy into the seat next to his.
“You ready for this mission? Might be a little boring, a quick
qualification flight in a normal Tomcat, after what you’ve been flying,” he
said lightly, taking the opportunity to study her face carefully.
“Hell, I’m just glad we’re on to fly instead of pulling alert. And those
JAST birds aren’t all that different from a normal Tomcat, Admiral,” she said.
“They do the same things, only better. The controls are the same, but the
black box configurations give me a hell of a lot more gain on the radar. It’s
a Tomcat with a few extra fancy toys.”
“I take it you’re enjoying the opportunity, then?”
“Absolutely! Bouncer gave me a good briefing on it, and Batman’s making
sure I have plenty of opportunities to practice with it.” She smiled, and her