CARRIER 9: ARCTIC FIRE By: Keith Douglass

Tombstone nodded. “Another few seconds and it would’ve been one of

us. You did all right, Sikes.”

The SEAL nodded at Tomboy. “Good thing you spoke up. It distracted

him just long enough for me to get a shot off. If you hadn’t–well, better

lucky than good.”

“Tombstone turned to Tomboy. “TAO–get someone in here to clean up

this mess,” he said, surprised at how steady and calm his voice sounded

even to himself.

Tomboy nodded. “Aye, aye, Admiral,” she said. “But there’s something

else I need to do first.” She crossed three steps over to Tombstone,

carefully stepping over the mutilated body on the floor, and let her arms

snake around him. Tombstone resisted for just a second, then pulled her

toward him as though he’d never let her go.

CHAPTER 16

Friday, 30 December

1500 Local

USS Jefferson

“You got them all?” Tombstone said into the hand-held radio.

“Yes, sir. Nasty bit of work. You’ve got two injured up here, one

pretty seriously. The corpsmen are already here–first impression is that

they’ll make it,” Sikes replied. “You’ve got the bridge of your ship back,

Admiral. And four nasty characters in custody.”

“Good work. And just for the record, it’s not my ship for much

longer. About ten seconds, I’d say.” Tombstone glanced across the room at

Batman, who was pacing back and forth in the admiral’s cabin. His own

cabin, Tombstone reminded himself, not mine. Not anymore–and never again.

This one last brief command of the carrier group had been a fluke.

“You ready to relieve me?” Tombstone asked Batman. “If you’re going

to wear out that strip of carpet, you might as well be the one who has to

explain it to the shipyard.”

“You bet! For a moment there, I was afraid you wouldn’t give her

back.”

“The thought crossed my mind. But I’ve had my tour–Jefferson is all

yours.” Tombstone paused as a thought suddenly occurred to him. A cold,

distant shadow flitted across his face. “Almost. There’s one last thing I

have to take care of.”

“What? You’re not pissed about the JAST bird going sneakers up, are

you?” Seeing the look on Tombstone’s face, Batman added hastily, “Not that

I really care. Being project manager for JAST was last tour, not now.”

“No, nothing to do with your baby at all. It’s just I’ve cleaned up

the mess I left in your cabin–I ought to finish the job.” Tombstone

reached for the telephone, then paused. “Can you wait another five

minutes? No longer–and you’ll be glad you did.”

“Wha-?”

Tombstone cut him off. “I just remembered another little mess I left

on your ship. And I’m going to need the lawyers to straighten it out.”

“You’re sure?” The JAG officer looked doubtful, then shook his head.

“Washington’s going to scream bloody murder over this one.”

“Let them scream,” Tombstone answered coldly. “Those people

endangered the safe operation of this ship with their stupid stunt. I want

criminal charges brought against all of them–and I want my name on the

charge sheet. How long will it take you to get moving on it?” He glanced

over at Batman. “My relief’s chomping at the bit.”

The JAG held out the manila envelope he’d been carrying in his left

hand. “Admiral, after our last conversation–well, I took the liberty

of–I thought you might be asking for this at some point. I think you’ll

find everything in order.”

Something softened slightly in Tombstone’s eyes. “Why, Captain. By

any chance have you anticipated my desires in this matter?”

The lawyer nodded. “I like to be prepared for anything, Admiral.”

“And what, may I ask, is in the other folder?” Batman broke in.

“Commendations for all of them?”

The lawyer looked faintly alarmed. “if I’d thought of it, there would

be. No, the only other option I’ve prepared is an airlift request–with

and without armed guards.”

Tombstone nodded. “You get those armed guards ready to go. I think

I’m going to need them.”

Fifteen minutes later, Tombstone watched from Vulture’s Row as four

civilians wearing flight deck cranials paraded across the flight deck

toward the waiting COD. Two master-at-arms carrying sidearms flanked them.

Each of the civilians had his or her hands clasped behind the back in a

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