“This is the central medical complex on the base. Three buildings to the west is the Cuban command post. We must insure that” “Didn’t they teach you anything at War College?” Batman said coldly.
“Sir?” Bird Dog’s confidence fled.
“We’ve had plenty of experience with detailed input on targeting objectives with political purposes in mind. In fact, as a War College graduate, you ought to know that. The individual targeteering and weaponeering management of that conflict significantly prolonged the entire war. Additionally, it led to tragic results.” Batman’s voice took on a somber note as he remembered how many classmates and friends he’d lost in bombing runs supposedly targeting truck farms. “Targeting must be a military function, first and foremost. Yes,” he continued, waving aside Bird Dog’s attempt to comment, “whether or not we enter into conflict is a political decision, I’ll grant you that. But micromanagement of targets will lose this conflict faster than anything we can dream up on this ship.”
“Admiral, if I could just,” Bird Dog began desperately, seeing his newfound career as a staff officer slip away.
“No, I don’t think so.” Batman shoved his chair away from the table and stood. “I understand what you’re trying to do, but you have to take the War College with a grain of salt. Out here, mister, your job is to keep pilots from going into the water for no reason and to no military advantage.
Try again and make sure you understand the difference between using assets to achieve a desired result and muddling about in decisions way above your pay grade.”
Batman looked around the room slowly, catching each officer’s eyes.
“All of you keep that in mind. This briefing is over.” Batman strode quickly to the door of his private cabin as the other officers scrambled to their feet in belated courtesy.
As the admiral’s cabin door slammed shut, the chief of staff turned to Bird Dog and regarded him gravely. “In my office in five minutes.”
Senator Williams, the junior senator from Virginia, shook his head gravely. “Keith, you can’t live in a vacuum. What happens down to the south has a big impact on operations.”
He glanced across the table to see if the admiral was paying attention, then he turned his attention to his meal. “People are starting to talk the wrong people.”
Admiral Keith Loggins, deputy AIRPAC, gazed down at his Cobb salad in disgust. “The hard-boiled eggs aren’t done all the way through. I hate it when they do that.”
“Pay attention, damn it, I’m trying to help you earn that next star.”
Senator Williams’s voice was viciously sharp.
“I am paying attention. Can’t I do two things at once?
Besides, the idea of using an aviation mishap for political advantage turns my stomach.”
Senator Williams sighed and pushed his plate away. “You didn’t tell those pilots to get loaded on testosterone and do stupid stunts with those aircraft, did you?”
“Of course not. We didn’t shoot down the civilian bird, and they’re not playing Romper Room out there.” Admiral Loggins pointed his fork at the senator. “That’s one thing you people have never understood.
We’re in a dangerous business out there, and there’s bound to be mishaps. There’s no way to prevent them.”
“Reality makes damned poor politics. Listen, Keith, you ought to know that by now. Everything has a slant to it, a twist, an angle. These F-14s of yours and Hornets that keep falling out of the airwell, the taxpayers start wondering what their tax dollars are going for. The average Joe, the one who gets out and votes, starts asking me why he can’t buy a new car and we can afford to replace your toys. It’s a problem.”
“But not mine.”
“Not yet.” Senator Williams motioned to the steward.
“You got any of that pecan pie from yesterday left?”
“What do you mean, not yet?” Admiral Loggins said uneasily. With the selection board for vice admiral meeting in only two months, this just might make a difference. “I wasn’t at sea on that carrier; I wasn’t commanding that squadron. I took my turn in the basket, and I survived that tour. They can’t hold me responsible for those mishaps.”
“We most certainly can,” the senator replied as he watched the steward walk away.
Admiral Loggins noted the shift in pronouns with growing apprehension.
“Hey, wait a minute….”
Senator Williams returned the gaze of the senior officer.
“I work for the people, Keith. And the sooner you learn that, the better.”
Damn it, I wish he would stop calling me Keith. Nobody in this building gets away with that. “Just what do you mean?”
“Just what I said. You’re deputy AIRPAC people are starting to wonder why you’re not doing something about this.”
“Like what? Fly every flight myself? I spent twenty years in the cockpit and I never had a mishap.”
“Like do something for God’s sake, Keith, exert a little leadership.”
The senator quit talking as the steward approached bearing his pie. He waited until the white-jacketed mess man had set the plate down and carefully repositioned the fork nearby. As the steward left. Senator Williams continued. “The Navy’s gone through this spate of accidents before. You usually shut down operations for a while and try to figure out why, right? A safety stand-down?”
“When we can. But Jefferson’s in the middle of operations down off Cuba. I don’t have to tell you what’s going on there.”
“And what else is near Cuba?” the senator pressed.
“Damn it, don’t you see what this means? It’s a golden opportunity you piss this one away and you’ll not get another one like it anytime soon.”
“The Arsenal ship?”
“Oh, the light finally goes on,” the senator said sarcastically. “The one project you and I have been working on for a year and a half now, and you finally think of it. Nice. I like a team player, Keith.”
“Quit calling me Keith,” the admiral said, his temper flaring suddenly.
A cold, still silence settled on the table. The senator carefully and meticulously placed his fork down on the tablecloth. “Fine. Admiral, then.” The venom in his gaze left no doubt about his opinion of the formality. “Well, Admiral, let me just recap the situation for you, if I may, sir. In case you don’t realize it, a large part of your future is riding on the successful performance of that Arsenal ship.”
“I’m an aviator.” The statement was almost an anguished cry.
“Besides, you’re the one who” “I’m the one who what?” the senator snapped. “Helped you get that second star? Shoved your nomination and promotion through committee? Made sure nobody asked any nasty little Tail hook questions? That guy?”
Admiral Loggins suddenly realized how far he’d gone over the line.
Everything Senator Williams had said was true the politician had been a major influence on the admiral’s career. “Look, I didn’t mean anything by that. And come on, we’ve known each other too longI was out of line. Call me Keith.”
The senator leaned back in his chair and assessed the man opposite him with a cold stare. “Make up your mind. Which side of the fence are you on?”
“I want what’s best for the Navy. I’ve always said that.”
The senator sighed. “And we agreed when we started this that the Arsenal was what was best for the Navy. A lightweight, easily built ship packed to the gills with every kind of advanced weaponry and with a skeleton crew on board. Hook up the electronics that allow for remote control of the firing, and you’ve got a perfect political platform.”
The senator’s voice was low and urgent. “At least that’s what you told my committee when you were testifying as a member of the research and development team. You remember? It was your first political move, your maiden appearance in front of the Senate.”