room for another good officer at the briefing. You won’t be staying on
board, will you, Commander?” he concluded pointedly, looking back at
Tomboy.
“Of course not, Admiral,” Batman said hastily. “Commander Flynn and I
will be returning to Jefferson later this afternoon. I wouldn’t feel
comfortable being away much longer than that, not under the circumstances.”
Admiral Carmichael nodded sharply. Message sent, message received.
“Well, speaking of tactical situations, let’s get this brief started.”
1350 Local
Adak
“No moving around back here,” the helicopter pilot said sternly.
“This bitch is going to be damned heavy for a while until I burn off some
fuel. I don’t want you shifting my center of gravity around.”
Pamela nodded, resisting the impulse to point out to the man that
she’d been on more than one helicopter flight in her life. Although, she
had to admit, never one exactly like this. Up close, the helicopter had
proved to be somewhat dinged and battered, and the interior spaces were in
no better shape. Still, all the moving parts seemed to be well-oiled and
clean, and she suspected that the mechanics and avionics got a good deal
more attention from the technicians than the creature comforts. “When are
you ready to go?” she asked.
“Anytime. You say the word, we’ll be airborne five minutes later.”
“And you understand what we’re going to do?” she asked again.
The pilot grinned. “You just leave it all up to me, ma’am.”
Five minutes later, as the helicopter careened away from the ground
and settled into level flight, Pamela had her first doubts about the
mission.
1425 Local
USS Jefferson
Ninety feet above Lieutenant Commander Brandon Sikes’s head, the
outward curving mass of USS Jefferson’s concave hull hung over his head
like a massive gray cliff. The storm had abated, and the seas were
ominously placid. Jefferson’s bow was pointed into the light swell, her
two outboard engines turning just enough to keep her on course. In
contrast, the docking platform lowered from her starboard elevator pitched
and rolled markedly. The flat-bottomed floating structure drew only two
feet of water and rode the swells heavily, the forward edge trying to bury
itself in oncoming swells while the trailing edge lifted free of the trough
between the swells.
Sikes planted his feet firmly apart, riding the pitching motion
easily. Compared to what he’d be doing in a few minutes, this was a piece
of cake.
The boat moored to the starboard side of the ship was just slightly
more than thirty feet long. Twin inboard engines, heavily muffled for
silence, drove it through the water at speeds in excess of seventy knots.
Fifty-caliber guns mounted fore and aft provided additional protection, but
her speed was her main tactical advantage. It was the ideal platform for
getting the SEAL team in and out of places they weren’t supposed to be
quickly and covertly.
And that was exactly what this mission called for. Sikes turned his
back on the boat and studied the men arrayed behind him. Four other men,
each with his own particular deadly specialty. His eyes lingered for a
moment on Petty Officer Carter, the newest member of the team. The young
SEAL had graduated from BUDS only one year before, and followed that with a
series of technical schools in the deadly arts that were the SEALs’ calling
cards. Carter was a good-natured, raw-boned twenty-year-old from Iowa.
Sikes shook his head. What was it about naval service that drew these men
from their landlocked childhoods to the water? And why did they make such
damned fine sailors? Carter was already showing the potential to be a
superb SEAL.
“Let’s get them moving, Senior,” he said, pointing toward the horizon.
“The sooner we get going, the sooner we’re back. All your men understand
what the mission is?”
Senior Chief Manuel Huerta nodded. “Yes, sir, we briefed again this
morning. Just a quick sneak and peek, nothin’ fancy. No heroics, no
toys.” The senior chief, a veteran of twenty-two years in the SEAL forces,
looked faintly disappointed.
“As long as everyone understands that,” Sikes replied.
“Depending on what we turn up, we may be going back.”
He turned back to the boat, confident that the chief had done his job.