Batman shook his head, wondering. With the very latest ESM equipment,
radars, and other highly classified sensor systems on board the carrier, in
the end, the first detection had been made the way it had been for
centuries: by a man on the ground.
Tombstone hung up the receiver thoughtfully. Was it possible, he
wondered, that the same man would still be in place after all these years?
He shook his head, deciding that it didn’t matter. Barring the outside
chance that this was a deception operation in some way, he was inclined to
trust the radio report. Though Batman had been doubtful, he’d agreed to
send the SEAL team in to investigate. And now it looked like that had been
the right move.
“Admiral,” Captain Craig said, poking his head around the corner into
Tombstone’s cabin. “Problem, sir.”
“How did you hear-?” Tombstone broke off suddenly. The chief of
staff hadn’t been present while Tombstone was talking to Batman. He
couldn’t know about the debris the SEALs had found blowing in the wind. It
must be something else. “What is it?” he asked, motioning the man to come
into the room. “Dinner reservations screwed up again?”
“I wish it were that simple,” the chief of staff said. “No, Admiral,
it’s an air distress signal. We’re getting seven-seven-seven-seven
blasting all over the place on IFF. Evidently it’s a civilian helicopter
experiencing mechanical problems about two miles from us.”
“How serious?”
“Serious enough that they don’t think that they can make it back to
land. And there’s no question of them ditching in these waters, of course.
They’re requesting permission to land on the ship.”
“A civilian?” Tombstone frowned. What in hell’s name would a civilian
helicopter be doing in this area?
The chief of staff shook his head. “According to the transponder,
it’s a commercial craft. The pilot said they were out trying to do some
spotting for a fishing boat when they started having problems. They’re
headed this way out of Juneau, they said.” Captain Craig shot him a
doubtful look. “The radar track doesn’t jive with that, though. The only
way it makes sense is if they’re coming out of Adak.”
“Adak? What the-” Tombstone cut the thought off abruptly. As soon
as the chief of staff had announced the discrepancy in the flight’s track,
the conviction that Pamela Drake was behind this had hit him. It had to
be–there was no other explanation.
Over the years, he’d watched Pamela’s determination to get in the
middle of every fast-breaking story, marveling sometimes at the lengths to
which she would go to ferret out the smallest bit of information. As a
more junior officer, he’d rarely been on the receiving end of her drive to
be the best reporter on any network, bar none. However, since he’d added
stars to his collar, the issue of their relationship and Pamela’s
profession had become increasingly problematic. Where does one draw the
line? he wondered. While he might not be entirely certain of the answer
himself, there was one thing he was sure of–with an ACN helicopter
inbound, it was somewhere different than from where Pamela did.
“Admiral?” the chief of staff said, snapping him back to reality.
“I take it the pilot’s declared an emergency, then?” Tombstone asked.
“Yes, sir–about five minutes ago.” The chief of staff sucked in his
breath as he saw the cold fire settle over Tombstone’s face. He’d expected
some reaction from his boss, but not this one.
“Let them land,” Tombstone said coldly. “As soon as they’re on deck,
I want to see them all in my cabin. Immediately.”
The chief of staff turned to execute the orders, feeling a fleeting
pity for the civilians in the helicopter. They had no idea of what they
were in for. “And COS? One other thing.” The chief of staff turned back
to his boss. “Sir?”
“Get the senior JAG officer on board up here ASAP. Let those civilian
idiots cool their heels in the conference room while I talk to him. And
tell him to bring up his Dictaphone and any other recording equipment he
might need. If this is what I think it is, I’m going to want criminal