Hawk Flight (Flight of the Hawk Book 3)

by Robert Little

  He looked at a spot on the table and said, “Me too.” She looked intently at him, “Are you saying you won’t forget your own name, or mine?” He burst into laughter, “Both.”

  She continued to look at him, “Why?”

  He said, “You confuse me, you push me around, you are cocky, intelligent, you make me laugh, and you make me feel things.” She pursed her lips, “Feel things? Interesting statement, if vague as hell. Hunger, abdominal cramps? What things?”

  He looked back, “I don’t know.” She nodded, “Well, when you find out, will you comm me?” It was his turn to ask, “Why?” She smiled, “Eldiot. Figure it the hell out, but first, let’s go dance.”

  She stood. He looked up, “Dance? To what?” She shook her head, “What the hell do you care? You put your damn arms around me and shuffle around like you’re trying to remember where you live.”

  He stood, “I can do that.” She laughed and held out her hand. He shook his head, “You need help?” She laughed again, “Consider this hand your guide to culture. By the way, your arms go around my waist. Any lower and I’ll drop you down a gravity well.”

  He grinned, “Nice to know.” She asked, “What exactly is nice to know?” He said, “You just intimated that you have an ass.”

  She stopped in the middle of the dance floor and turned to face him, “You didn’t know? Are you claiming you haven’t been looking at my ass? Yes or no?”

  He frowned thoughtfully, “I was look for your ass, not at your ass. Small difference.” She smiled beautifully, “Finally, the man Linda raved about shows up.”

  He took Mona in his arms, “Indigestion.” She put her arms around his neck, “What?” He said, “What I’m feeling.”

  She laughed, “Fucking liar.”

  They slowly shuffled in a small area, their movements in no way connected to the music being played. At one point she quietly said, “There you go.” He asked, “You going to throw me down a gravity well?” She quietly said, “I would have. Not now.”

  Chapter 46

  Admiral Shin Ho Lee, Fleet Base Jupiter

  Shin Ho sat in his office, reading a huge comm from Admiral Tretiakov. He ached for the losses and the utter failure to get even close to the Bug globe, but they’d learned a great deal. He hoped the cost in human life and treasure wasn’t too high a price to pay, but he didn’t know if it was merely a small down payment, one of many.

  He paid most of his attention to his old friend’s notations, coming at the end. Alexi had written that he believed much of the work done to silence and shield the Dash 4 capacitor noise was shoddy. He wrote, “The specifications for the modifications are not extraordinarily complex, they aren’t even terribly expensive, so the contractors are at fault, there can be no other explanation. Admiral, please push from your end. I know that you will, know how angry this makes you, but please sir, in addition to whatever else you do, make an effort to force these people to understand the human cost, the pain and anguish attendant to their negligence. Much rides on your success.”

  Forty-two men and women lost in those irreplaceable fighters, the entire crews of two of his best destroyers. He snorted - those ships were sixteen and nineteen years old.

  He answered a comm from his aide, “Sir, your wife has left you a message. Shall I pass it through?” He smiled in almost relief, “Yes please.”

  He keyed his comm and the image of his wife appeared. It took about two hours for message traffic to transit from Earth, so this was a recording. “Hello dear. Have you eaten supper?” She waited a beat and then laughed, “Yes, I know, it will almost certainly be the last thing you ever hear from me, and goodness knows, you could stand to lose a bit here and there.”

  She paused, smiled and said, “Segue alert: Samuel has arrived home for the holidays, He’s got ten days leave. I think he’ll spend most of it with Alexis, she of the large eyes and intimidating mind. I think he likes the challenge, but I give him poor odds, despite the sudden popularity of Navy uniforms.”

  Samuel, their son, had followed his father into the Navy and was currently a lieutenant midway through an assignment on an old destroyer.

  She went on to describe her current class – she was a full professor of modern history at the Central University of Hong Kong, one of the newer universities in the immense metropolis. Her approach to lectures was very Socratic – she insisted on student participation and loved the sudden look of fear she was able to induce with a mere question.

  She knew that her husband enjoyed her descriptions of life on Earth, of children crying, men flirting, women talking to each other. Shin Ho smiled, just thinking about it.

  He finished the comm, made a mental note to record a reply and returned to Alexi’s detailed analysis.

  He made his own notes as he read and reread the bleak document. Some issues were amenable to corrective action, plus a few additional Federal Marshal’s and writs; others were not, would require time and vast expenditures of money.

  In an ugly way, the battle he was reading about worked to his advantage, for it helped foster in the public consciousness the fact that humanity faced the worst threat to its existence in its history.

  His relationship with Congress was already testy and heading south towards confrontational. Every world wanted large infusions of naval might, despite his repeated statements that the only systems that were in danger had several years grace before they could be attacked.

  He had to tread a very narrow path, stressing the three years, while also stressing that they only had three years in which to create a Navy, virtually from scratch. It was tough going, and despite repeated assurances that he would receive the resources he required, he wasn’t getting them, much less what he wanted, which was control over the few ships his Navy retained.

  As newly federalized ships came under his control, he had first to ensure that they weren’t a greater danger to their crews than to their enemy, and once that task was concluded, Congress would pass a law sending the ship to this or that system.

  He’d known this was likely to happen, thus his rush to get those two elderly fleet carriers to Lubya. Information on the Dresdens, extending to their very existence, was a closely guarded secret, and he had done everything short of producing a hangman’s noose to ensure it remained that way.

  The Hawks were a bit easier, since they were so small that the various system governments didn’t consider them terribly valuable. Even so, he’d gone to great lengths to avoid even mentioning their name or providing a description, save that it was small and old.

  In his mind, the Hawks and the Dresdens would form the nucleus of the only weapon he had that might make a dent in the enemy’s forces, but he didn’t dare count on that, and even if they were able to survive in Bug space, there were an awful lot of Bugs, not very many Hawks.

  Additionally, both the Hawks and Dresdens were old to very old, and he didn’t know how well they would hold up to sustained operations, and that assumed they could even survive.

  He did know one thing however – they were going to find out.

  His aide brought in a covered tray holding his supper, the one his wife had asked about, probably not just to him. He quickly ate it and was finished by the time his next appointment showed up.

  He stood and went around his battered desk to shake the hand of a striking woman of indeterminate age. Her name was Isabella Chamberlain. She smiled, returned his greeting and settled gracefully into a comfortable chair across from Shin Ho.

  He offered coffee, it was accepted and he brought in a cup for her. It was an old, white porcelain mug, a somewhat unusual offering, and a test, and one she instantly passed.

  She held it up to look closely at the faded lettering, “CA 135, USS Los Angeles? Is that the...no, this must be extremely old. Goodness, this is from a wet navy ship?” He smiled in respect – he rarely ever brought out these old pieces of history, and often found his guests weren’t aware of their significance.

  Shin Ho had spent decades collecti
ng these examples of Navy history. He had the only remaining coffee mugs from the nuclear fission powered aircraft carrier Enterprise, he had some from the Roosevelt, one of the very last wet water ships of this class ever built, and two precious mugs from the Saratoga.

  In addition to those mugs, he had plates and silverware from a variety of ships, including some submarines and from some of the earliest spacecraft. Oddly, those proved to be the most difficult to acquire.

  She asked him about the ship, and he told of his TDA on the now retired but possibly soon-to-be rejuvenated Los Angeles.

  After ten minutes he smiled, didn’t look at the time and asked, “How may I serve you?” She smiled in appreciation and said, “You have been serving my constituents – humanity – for many years. Sir, I have come, not to ask something of you, but to offer whatever aid and assistance my organization may offer.” The fact that she’d personally traveled to Base Jupiter underscored the importance her offer.

  He knew quite a bit about her organization and the families that created it, and spent a moment considering her offer. He cocked his head, “As you might know, our needs are great. May I ask, what do you believe you are able to provide?”

  She said, “We have been intimately connected with the Federal Navy since before the end of the Civil War. We currently maintain in excess of one hundred seventy installations. Each one has a library – I believe you have long used their services, is that not so?”

  She raised the cup to her lips and took an exploratory sip, nodding, “Navy coffee. It’s a wonder you’re still alive.” Another sip.

  “According to my calculations, you potentially have available ninety-seven Hawk attack craft in three iterations. We believe that the Five series will prove too difficult to upgrade while offering too little in return; however, the Six should offer reasonable performance and of course the Seven can carry heavy missiles. In addition, according to our records, fourteen much larger craft were built along basically the same lines as the Hawks, and by the same yard, one our family happens to know something about. The original contract called for twenty-four, but after repeated cost increases and sub-par performance, it was cut off at fourteen, ten here and four at your Lookout. Those ships offer great promise in a relatively limited time frame. Virtually all your other options involve very old technology and we believe they would or will suffer from the same problems as the Essex and Invictus, potentially leading to the same horrid results.”

  She took a delicate sip of coffee, set down the cup and said, “Our organization has an immense wealth of data on both those ships, although far more on the Hawk than the Dresden. We wish to offer a download of our entire service database. We understand that the Navy officially takes no stand for or against our library, but we believe your people ought to benefit from it. To that end, I have brought a link to the database, on the chance you will accept our help. Additionally, we have a reasonably large database of veterans, and have compiled a list of all personnel who served on those ships. You might be surprised to learn just how many there still are. We have gone to the trouble of contacting them and have a list of one hundred and seventeen men and women who have direct and highly relevant experience on these ships and are willing and able to offer their services. If you accept our offer, we can transport them to Base Jupiter or to any other facility you designate. They are mostly retired, but are offering their services. Finally, we possess a large number of veterans in our association who have either left the service or retired from it within the previous ten years. Many of them have skills that you might find useful to vital. If you call up inactive reservists, these people would be potentially crucial to your efforts.”

  Shin Ho asked, trying not to sound as cold as he felt, “Miss Chamberlain, you have mentioned two ex Navy craft, the Hawk and the...Dresden you said? May I ask, why have you focused on those two craft?”

  She took another sip, “Admiral Lee, my organization has been around for a very long time. All of our members have served, some of them attaining quite high rank. They talk to each other, and whether you like it or not, so do the tens of thousands of active Navy members who find that our centers provide them with vital services that the Federation can’t seem to afford. We know that the Hawk is the only craft that to date has been able to go toe to toe with the enemy, and it is clear that the Dresden has the same potential. Your...tempestuous relationship with Congress is well-known, and I swear to you that it is not our desire or intent to cause you any additional pain. Rather the opposite in fact.”

  He cocked his head, “Why so?” She said, “Your predecessor should have been shot, not put in prison. In fact, it is my opinion that if it had been done correctly, we could have shot him, revived him and shot him again. You know, just to be certain we’d done it right. Admiral, you are the best officer for this job, and right now you have a little power with Congress, but only a little, and that august body seems more interested in preventing you from protecting our systems than actually defeating the invasion. We have begun a quiet lobbying effort. As it happens, there are a great many skeletons, and we know where many of them are buried. We have gone to great lengths to ensure that none of this can be tied to the Navy or lead back to you. Our goal is to attempt to allow you to utilize the Navy as you see fit.”

  He nodded and asked, “This...Dresden you mention...?” She smiled, “We believe you have already modified the first one and are hard at work on the other nine located here. Based on shipments of mag bottles and capacitors, your designers have gone with the same basic approach as used on the Hawks. Quite ingenious.”

  He asked, “And, you believe this because?” She said, “Admiral, our members sacrificed a minimum of four years up to as many as forty years of service to mankind, doing it in typically ancient ships for low pay and less respect. They no longer serve, but they continue to love the Navy. We recognize your need to keep a lid on your work with the Dresden, and we have done nothing to compromise that, we wish to help, not hinder.”

  He asked, attempting a little misdirection, “How have you managed to run so many facilities for so long? How do you pay for all those services? I’ve always wondered.”

  She smiled, “We’ve been very careful to ensure that our funds endure.” He smiled faintly, “So, not going to tell me.” She said, “Once a secret is shared...”

  He asked, “This database of former Navy members? I’d like to see it.” She produced a small piece of paper, and handed it to him, “This will be good for the next thirty minutes. It includes all the data I’ve mentioned.” She’d not been allowed to bring in any electronics or recording devices, and must have known that in advance.

  He finally asked, “Considering the nature of the information you have given me, I am going to have to insist on learning just how your organization claims to know what we are doing or planning to do.”

  She nodded, “I of course agree. How much do you know about the development of the Hawk?” He shrugged, “Don’t care.” She nodded, “It was developed by Producciones Padilla, L.L.C, a company headquartered on Maya. As it happens, John Chamberlain and his brother provided some important input into the original prototype, John’s brother married into the family and after leaving the service, went to work for Padilla. Additionally, the Chamberlain Foundation bought a large block of stock in Padilla. Therefore, we know a great deal about both craft – the Dresden was later manufactured by that same company – and speaking as a large shareholder, I offer a promise to provide you with any required technical data, and our manufacturing facilities are at your disposal, for this or for any other project; say for example, a new craft somewhat similar to the Hawk, but with a two-man crew, quieter and faster.”

  He snorted, “Your sources are...interesting.” She nodded, “Padilla worked on that project, made a bid but didn’t get the contract. If the government is interested, Padilla can build a modified Dresden prototype within six months, approximately. They worked on looking at ways to improve on the original design, which of course serio
usly lacked power. Their design triples the number of mag bottles and leaves more room to embark that missing complement of Marines.”

  He asked, “Are you here to sell me something?” She shook her head, “No admiral, I have no position with the company.” He snorted, but settled more comfortably in his chair and asked, “Six months?” She nodded, “Have whomever makes these decisions contact them directly. I know for a fact that they’ve badly wanted to help with the modifications to your ten, but I am told they were impressed with the low tech approach you’ve employed.”

  He finally grinned, “All right, I give.” She smiled, “Thank you. It’s always better when the person you’ve just offered to help actually wants the help.” He sighed, “Unfortunately true.”

  He held up an apologetic hand and commed his aide. She peeked in and he held up the card, “Would you please take care of this?” She stepped in, took the paper and left. No questions.

  He grinned, “I’d be lost without her.” Miss Chamberlain smiled, “She’s from Maya.” He frowned, “Is there a connection I should know about?” She said, “Cousin, and no, she’d never tell me the time of day without your prior approval.”