by M. L. Maki
HANGER BAY, RAF KENLEY
The two SEAL teams have their gear packed and stacked in a corner. Lt. Mark ‘Fang’ Fronczak talks with BMC Paul ‘Grunt’ Bruce, “Where are Triage and Romeo?”
Grunt, “Triage and Commander Douglas are an item. He’ll be along soon.”
“And Buford?”
“Romeo is with his Juliet.”
“Do I know who she is?”
“Boss, you’ve got to pay attention better. Juliet is Commodore Hunt. While we were out on mission, he took a bullet for her. It’s kind of a highlander way of getting a girl’s attention.”
“Their ranks are too far apart.”
Grunt, “Her permanent rank is Commander, and they aren’t in the same chain. Sir, let it be.”
Fang, “She’s a solid leader. I respect the shit out of her. If he fucks her up, I’ll kill him.”
“Sir, you’d have to get in line. You don’t think she deserves to get laid after saving Britain?”
“It’s different with women.”
“Is it?”
OUTSIDE THE TRANSIENT BARRACKS, RAF KENLEY
Samantha Hunt pulls Gloria’s car to a stop. “Something I haven’t told you. I promised a date to a British Ace named Johnson. It’s become a political thing. If I can, I’ll get out of it.”
“No problem. I know we’re good.” Jeremiah gives her a big grin.
“Thank you. I need to change. I’ll see you at your hanger.”
“Right. See you there.” He leans over and kisses her. “Later, love.”
“Right. Later.”
He gets out and she drives to the control center. When she gets to her office, Cooper is waiting with a cup of tea. “Thank you, Cooper.”
“No worries, Spike. Your greens are laid out. I’ve the SEAL award package approved. You’ve thirty minutes before the SEAL’s plane is scheduled to depart. The strike package just landed with no losses.”
“Thank you.”
Gloria flows into the room, “There you are.” She meets Sam’s gaze and drags her into her bedroom. “You have the look I was hoping for. How did it go?”
Sam takes a deep breath and smiles, “It went great. I have a guy. A boyfriend, maybe more. I don’t know. Here’s your keys.”
Gloria hugs her, “I’m so glad. God, you’ve needed this for so long.”
“Yes, I have.”
“He doesn’t want you out of uniform, does he?”
“No. Not at all. We just have to figure out how to make this work. Right now, our ranks are so far apart that to go official would…Well, it would freak out higher.” She changes into her uniform, “You know, it was nice to just be a woman, a girlfriend for a bit.”
“Yeah, I know the feeling. It’ll work out, eventually.”
“Maybe…it will be what it will be.”
Gloria gives her another hug, “I got debriefing. Got to go. Love you.” She sails out of the room.
Cooper drives Spike to the hanger. Cargo Britches and Triage arrive just as they pull up. Sandra is in a pretty forest green dress. When they get out of their car, she gives Triage a passionate kiss. Sam smiles and walks into the hanger. She sees Buford and smiles. Fronczak looks at them and shakes his head.
Hunt sees the motion, “Lieutenant Fronczak, is your team present?”
He doesn’t get up, “Yeah, Buford’s on the other team.” He turns back to his conversation with Grunt.
Hunt, “I prefer to avoid most of the pomp associated with a star, Fang, but a modicum of respect is in order.”
He abruptly stands, “Um…I’m sorry. I thought, um, that…” All the SEALs stand.
“You thought I was here to see my boyfriend, and as such, I was just another split tail swooning over a trident. Lieutenant, some day it might be nice to just be a girlfriend. But, today, I’m in uniform. Today I’m the Commodore. Am I clear?”
“Yes, ma’am. Very clear.”
“Is everyone here?”
Triage stands in front of his team, “Team 1, Platoon 2, present.” He salutes and she returns it.
Fang, “Team 1, Platoon 1, present.” He salutes and she returns it.
She looks at them, “Before you go, I want to thank each and every one of you for the exceptional service you have performed. You demonstrated the flexibility, professionalism, and initiative the SEALs are famous for. You executed exceptionally difficult missions with no back up. The mission cost you dearly. I too mourn your loss. Cooper, the first award?” She pins Fang, Grunt, Triage, and Buford with the Navy Cross. Warren, BJ, and Buford receive the Purple Heart. Shockley and Warren receive the Silver Star. The rest receive the Navy Commendation Medal with the V for valor. “I am also authorized to grant the Presidential Unit Citation. Thank you.” She shakes the hand of each man, then leaves.
They break ranks and Buford walks up to Fronczak, “Thank you, Lieutenant, for fucking things up for me.”
Fronczak turns on him, “You shouldn’t be fucking the Commodore. You’re not good enough for her. Not now. Not ever.”
Buford stands his ground, “I love her. I love her, Lieutenant, and there’s not one fucking thing you can do about it.”
“I can kick you off the teams for conduct unbecoming.”
Lieutenant Russel ‘Triage’ Jeremy walks up, “Or, you could just shut the fuck up, Fang, and stop interfering with my team. It’s a violation of federal law for an officer to interfere in the private life of a subordinate. Now, just shut the fuck up about it. It’s time to go.”
Cargo Britches makes eye contact with Jeremy. Triage says, “Tell her I’m sorry.”
“I will. Have a good flight.” She watches them board and the plane take off.
COMMODORE’S OFFICE
Hunt walks in and her chief of staff, Andrews says, “Spike, we have an AMCROSS message for Duck. Swede’s still airborne. I called his division.” He hands her the message and she reads it. Smiling, she reads it again.
AD3(SW) Greg ‘Duck’ Newburg knocks and walks into her office. “You wanted to see me, ma’am?”
Hunt turns to him, grinning, “Duck, your parents are alive. They came back in time, too.” She hands him the message from the American Embassy in Switzerland.
“They were in Germany?” He sways and puts his hands on her desk. He looks at her and starts crying.
She puts a hand out to steady him, “Yes, on the NATO base that came back.”
“Wow. Wow.” He wipes his eyes, “Sorry, ma’am.”
“It’s okay, Duck. I’m so happy for you.”
“When will I get to see them?”
“That’s the problem. They’re interned in Switzerland.”
“Right, ma’am. Can I tell Sass?”
She looks fondly at him, “This isn’t a secret. You can tell who you like.”
FLIGHT LINE, PENSACOLA, FLORIDA
Lt. Ashley ‘Rose’ Thorne taxi’s a brand-new Grumman F/A-14C to its spot and locks the brakes. Commander Bob ‘Judge’ Bean parks his Tomcat to her right and Lieutenant Commander Truman ‘Johnny’ Walker brings his up on her left. For the ferry flight from Grumman on Long Island, they have weights in the back seats, rather than RIOs. They are directed to secure the engines. A huge smile on her face, she goes through the check list. Once they unass the birds, Truman walks over, “What do you think?”
Ashely, “I’m in love.”
Johnny looks into her eyes, “I am, too.”
Judge joins them, “Well, then. Maybe you love birds will join me in the O-Club to celebrate.”
Startled, they turn to him, and Johnny grins, “Roger that, boss.”
Captain of Aviation Grigory Rechkalov, a Russian student approaches them, “May I study the new aircraft?” He salutes, clicking his heels.
Judge, “Sorry, no. Our governments have not permitted training on the Tomcat.”
Rechkalov, “Why, sir?”
“That is between your leadership and ours. Right now, it’s forbidden.”
“This, sir, is a superior plane. We
fight the Germans for you, yet you handicap us?”
Thorne says, “Oh, now that you’re back in the war, you want to pretend all is well. The Germans laughed about you giving up some of your own territory during the ceasefire. I know. I was there.”
Truman looks at Ashley, then at the Russian, “File a complaint with your superiors. We all must follow orders.”
Rechkalov, “I could take one.”
Truman, “And go where? None of these jets have ferry tanks, and even if they did, you couldn’t fly one to Russia without refueling twice.”
“I see. Yes, sir.”
Thorne, “One other thing. If you attempt to steal American property, you will be summarily shot as a spy. Carry on, Captain.”
BRIEFING ROOM, RAF KENLEY
0500, 11 October, 1942
Hunt, in her flight suit, stands at the front of the room. “Okay, we’ve hammered the bridges and airfields. We’ve been wild weaseling them for two days. The Army Airforce and the RAF are much more effective in their attacks. It’s time to rope a dope the Germans.”
Gunner, “Shit, yeah. Thanks for suiting up, boss.”
Hunt, “The Russians have been asking for us to draw the Luftwaffe away from the eastern front. Here’s the plan…”
COMNAVAIR OFFICE, NAVY YARD, WASHINGTON, DC
Henry Morgenthau, Jr., the Treasury Secretary, is ushered into Lee’s office. “Hello, Admiral. May I have a moment?”
Vice Admiral Lee stands and offers his hand, “Of course. Would you like some coffee?”
Morgenthau, “No, thank you.”
“How may I help you?”
“When is Commodore Hunt going to be available to go on a war bond tour?”
“You are aware that she holds the permanent rank of commander? Commodore is a positional rank.”
“It matters not to me. We wish to begin her tour.”
Lee sits back in his chair, “Let’s talk about this. She’ll turn over her command in a couple of weeks, then fly home for thirty days of leave. After that I can make her available for another thirty days, then I have another assignment for her.”
“Six weeks? That’s too late. We need good weather for the tour.”
“I see. Perhaps we should cancel the whole thing. That’s acceptable to me.”
Morgenthau, “Absolutely not. We’ll just have to schedule a couple of tour dates during her leave.”
“No. She’s earned her vacation. More than earned it. It’s not to be disturbed. That, and she won’t be in Tennessee the entire time.”
“What is her schedule?”
Lee, “We’re solidifying it. She’ll be in Washington for my wedding and in New York for another wedding. Is it still the plan to have her tour with her aircraft?”
“Yes, it is. She’ll start her tour in New York after the wedding.”
“Sir, the stars have to align to set up that wedding. I’ll let you know. Is it your plan to have her fly around?”
“Yes, of course. The plane is as much a star as she is.”
“Okay, but do you recognize the expense and effort it will take to have her fly the tour?”
“Explain.”
Lee, “We’ll need to fly a ground crew and spare parts around with her. We’ll also need security for the two aircraft. There will be a requirement for fuel at each stop, or at least some of them. Jets cannot use regular avgas. They use JP-4, or JP-5. The weather is only a small part of the consideration that must go into this tour.”
“You’re being directed to support it.”
“I’m aware. However, your fund raising must make more than the cost of the event.”
Morgenthau, “That’s my concern. Her tour will lift up the people. It will be good for morale.”
“I can see that. Do know, that while she’s on tour, she’ll be working directly for me.”
“She’ll be working for the officers we appoint over her.”
Lee, “The major? Secretary, she outranks the major and he’s Army. She works for me.”
“That’s acceptable. When is the wedding in New York?”
“What cities are on the tour?”
“I brought a list.”
Lee reads it through. “I’ll need to assign enough ground crew to support this sortie rate, but it’s doable, weather permitting. You know she needs to meet required sleep time between flights?”
“Of course, we’ll sort it out.”
“Good. I’ll let you know about the wedding.”
CHAPTER 5
ARTHUR 1, 30,000 FEET OVER OCCUPIED FRANCE
0715, 11 October, 1942
Spike and Lizard are flying at 275 knots with the wings forward and the engines throttled down. Behind and beside them, the Black Knights and the White Knights are in tight formation. Well to the west, a Lancaster radar plane covers them by radar. Lizard, “How did our grandparents do this? I feel like a sitting duck.”
“We are sitting ducks. That’s the point.”
“Okay, we’re about thirty miles from the German border.”
As planned, a plane over the channel announces in the clear, “Arthur 1, feet wet over the channel.”
Lizard grins, “And so it begins. Ten miles.”
Spike, “When they fire their long-range missiles at us, lock up the missiles fired at us. That’s where our Sparrows will go. We fire the AIM-1s and maneuver to avoid any leakers.”
“Got it.”
On radio they hear, “Bomber units, 36 bandits at 40 miles and 095, climbing to meet you. Missiles fired.”
Lizard, “Illuminating. Missiles inbound. Fire the 1s.”
Spike pickles off all four, “Quad Fox 3. Lighting burners.” She pushes up the throttles to zone 5. It’s liked getting kicked in the ass.
Lizard, “Fire both 7s.”
Spike, “Fox 1. Fox 1.”
“I got the inbounds.”
ARTHUR 133, BEHIND ARTHUR 1
Lt. Jacqueline ‘Ace’ Cochrane, “Zone 5. What the hell is she doing?”
Ensign Julian ‘Deuce’ Schlosser, her RIO, “Good lock. Stay with her. She’s shooting the incoming missiles.”
“I see. Damn.” The incoming missiles go away, disappearing radar. “That’s fucking shooting.” Many of the ‘262s are hit and go down. Spike hits four, they hit two.
Spike goes after a ‘262 with guns, taking it out, then goes vertical.
Ace, “Gs.” She pulls hard, following Spike up.
They hear, “Fox 2. Fox 2.” Two Sidewinders drop off the glove pylons on Spike’s bird and fire. They see the missiles hit two different German jets.
Ace, “Any targets?”
Deuce, “Nothing.”
Ace, “How the fuck did she do that? She hit two different jets with missiles at the same time.”
“That’s why she has over a hundred kills. We need to get that good.”
“Yeah, eyes out.”
Deuce, “Hey, Ace. We’re aces.”
‘Ace’ Cochrane, “Wow, you’re right. You’re also right that we have to get better.”
BELOW ARUTHUR 1
Commander John ‘Marshall’ Dillon pulls up and rolls level, “Did we hit it?”
His RIO, Ensign Joline ‘Guppy’ Pond, says, “A-firm. The west support is collapsing. It’s going down.”
“Okay, time go home, Guppy. Where’s LD?”
“Behind, right, high. I can see some of their kills coming down. Why are we stuck down here?”
“Gs.” He wrenches the jet to near vertical and lights the afterburners. A ME-262 that is diving clear of the fight above comes into his sights. He fires a burst of 20 mm, hitting the German in his left engine. The engine catches fire. The jet goes into a flat spin when the left engine shuts down. Streaming smoke and fire, it falls out of control. The pilot ejects just before the plane crashes.
Marshall spots another ‘262 maneuvering to get under the furball above him. He fires off a Sidewinder, “Fox 2.” The missile twists through the air and hits the ‘262 behind the cockpit. The
plane explodes and tumbles in a stream of debris from the sky.
Guppy, “Oh, I see. I thought those planes were kills. Sorry.”
“Kills aren’t under control. Those were. We’re given the ground targets because we have more experience with air to ground. They hit the jets because they’ve been fighting them for months. There’s plenty of war in front of us.”
ARTHUR 1, 40,000 FEET NEAR THE GERMAN BORDER
Spike, “Lizard, call for a commander’s check in.” The four Tomcat squadrons report no losses. The two Army Airforce War Eagle squadrons, attacking rail road bridges closer to the coast, also report no losses.
Spike, “Right, time to go home.” She turns her plane and flies back to England.
Lizard, “Boss, can we talk about your boyfriend?”
She smiles, “Okay, Lizard. What do you want to know?”
“First, I’m very happy for you. He’s like a ’41, right?”
“Yeah, born in 1919.”
“Cool. What do you talk about?”
“Lots of stuff. Horses. He’s a cowboy.”
“Oh. I was just wondering how the cultural divide worked.”
“Lizard, he’s very intelligent. We have no shortage of stuff to talk about.”
“Does he want you to take off your uniform and put on an apron?”
“No, Lizard. That would be a hard no for me.”
“Good, ‘cause we really need you.”
“Thank you, Lizard. How are things with you and your friend?”
“When we go on leave, I want to spend most of it with her. That means DC, because they’re still in session.”
Spike, “Lizard, give. Is it one of the congressional aids you hooked up with?”
“No. She’s in the house.”
“I see. I know who you’re talking about. Good for you.”
Lizard, “So, is it serious between you and the cowboy?”
“Is it serious between you and the representative?”
“Yeah, I think so. I can’t be sure until I get there. We kept it a secret here. If she wants it to be a secret in DC, I think I’m done.”
Spike, “Understood. Give her some time to figure it out. Jere and I need to keep it discreet.”
“You’re right. Is your cowboy serious?”
“Yes, he is. I’m worried about how to balance it all. How to be a girlfriend and a boss.”
