CARRIER 9: ARCTIC FIRE By: Keith Douglass

qualified to fly it.”

“Well, whoever it is, we need him,” the chief said sharply.

Batman started to smile. “I think I can convince him to go along with

this. You see, it’s been a while since he’s gotten to fly much, and he’s

pretty eager for a couple of extra hops.”

“Just who the hell is this non-flying aviator?” the pilot said.

“Everybody flies on this boat, everybody.”

Batman’s smile broadened slightly. “Me.”

1700 Local

USS Coronado

“Come on, Tombstone, you know it’s the right thing to do.” Batman’s

voice held a pleading note. “That man on the ground deserves it.”

“I’m not so sure,” Tombstone said slowly. “One of the hardest lessons

that I had to learn when I was in your shoes was that my flying days were

quickly coming to an end. I hated it, but I finally admitted that I was of

more use in TFCC than in the cockpit.”

“This situation’s a little bit different, don’t you think?” Batman

argued. “If it were a matter of just sending a Tomcat–hell, I’ve got

plenty of men who’d volunteer. And women, too,” he added hastily. “But

the JAST bird is something else.”

Tombstone sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, his old wingman

was right. “And we can’t get another pilot out from Pax River?” he asked

one last time.

“No, Admiral.” Batman’s voice took on a formal note. “Too long of a

time lag. Things are moving too fast–by the time we got someone else out

here, that SEAL could be dead. The mission has to go ASAP.”

Tombstone sighed. “All right,” he finally capitulated. “What do you

want me to do?”

“I could use your help, sir,” Batman continued, the same grave tone

still in his voice. “As you point out, the battle group needs an admiral

in command of it. I respectfully request that the admiral shift his flag

to the USS Jefferson, and relieve me of command. At least for the duration

of this mission,” he concluded.

Tombstone sat bolt upright in his chair. “You want to be relieved?”

“Well, I’d just as soon it weren’t permanent,” Batman said wryly.

“But things go wrong. In the event that something happens, I don’t want

Jefferson left alone. And since you’ve been admiral on board her before,

you’re just the man to relieve me.”

It made sense. Damn, but it made sense. “Okay, Batman,” he said,

surprised at how eager he suddenly was to feel the steel decks of Jefferson

under his feet again. “You realize there’s going to be hell to pay for

this later?”

“There always is, isn’t there, Stoney?” Batman chuckled slightly.

“But we bring that SEAL home and all screw-ups are forgiven. You know

that.”

Tombstone nodded, all too aware that what Batman said was true.

“Expect my COD flight in two hours, then,” he said, and broke the

connection.

He stood up from his desk and started pacing the room. The amphibious

ship was a fine vessel, but it was nothing compared to being on an aircraft

carrier. To be in command of one one more time, just one last time–he

sighed, thinking about how many lasts he was coming to in his career these

days. “One last time,” he said aloud. He smiled briefly. “A hell of a

way to end a career.”

Six hours and one Harrier flight later, Rear Admiral Matthew Magruder

took command of the aircraft carrier USS Jefferson, relieving Rear Admiral

Edward Wayne in a short, hastily arranged ceremony. And, even though he

knew it was only for a short period of time, it felt damned good to be

back.

1745 Local

Aflu

Sikes regained consciousness slowly, driven out of the inky blackness

by the sharp red flashes reverberating in his head. He groaned as the

flashes turned into sharp pain. He moved feebly, trying to paw off the

hand on his shoulder that was causing it.

“Go away,” he mumbled. Damn, what was the matter–couldn’t they let

him sleep? Suddenly, he recalled where he was and what had happened. He

forced his eyes open, almost blinded by the sparks that flew across his

vision.

Slowly, the dark blur above him sharpened into the concerned face of

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