"Yes, sir."
The President grinned. "Besides, I'm not about to let you off the hook. Hell, man! Our Asian allies are fit to be tied over this thing… and I'm supposed to break in a new hand now?"
Schellenberg smiled. "Bad timing, huh?"
"Damn right it's bad timing." He plucked the secretary's resignation from the desk and tore it into pieces. "Now, I thought we should send some of State's best people over there. You know, smooth things over. I was wondering about that doctor who briefed us, what was her name…?"
"Dr. Chu. Yes, I'd thought of her for something like that myself. She's not afraid to give it to people straight."
"Good. I've given you one hell of a mess over there, Jim, and I'm counting on you to clean it up."
Schellenberg's resistance weakened as they continued to talk.
Mess it might be, the President reflected as they discussed the situation, and mess it would continue to be for weeks to come. But it could have been worse… much worse. If it had not been for the Jefferson and her battle group…
There was a major contradiction there… a U.S. Navy carrier battle group as an instrument of peace. But without Jefferson and the will to use her, America would have been held hostage ― again ― or been forced to go to war. The challenges to freedom included not only foreign invaders, but fear, indecision, and the willingness to sacrifice principles on the altar of appeasement, of peace-at-any-price.
More often than not, the cost of appeasement was too damned high. He hoped the men who had died on those beaches understood. Somehow, he thought they would.
EPILOGUE
So, Coyote!" Tombstone said, grinning. "Do you mean to tell me you're leaving me stuck with this character for a wingman?"
"Ah, you're just jealous, Stoney," Batman said, laughing.
"You saw that walking dream in nurse's whites out there! She's the only reason this guy's screwing off here!"
Coyote lay in the hospital bed between them. It was three days since he'd been carried on a stretcher off the rescue helo, then medevaced to the Naval hospital here at Yokosuka. Physically, he looked only a little the worse for wear, with bandaged leg and shoulder and a needle in his arm feeding him D5W from a bottle hung on an IV stand. But Tombstone had looked into Coyote's eyes and seen something else, a hurt or a fear or some inner twisting which IV bottles could not reach.
The cure lay within the patient. Whether he could find it was still a question.
"Can't be the nurse, Batman," Coyote said. "You know I've got a ticket home."
Tombstone walked to the window, which overlooked Yokosuka Bay. The harbor was clogged with Navy ships, tugs, cargo ships, and ferries. Looming over them all was the gray steel mountain of the U.S.S. Jefferson, just around the headland at Uraga on her way to the anchorage. He and Batman had gotten permission for the hop to Japan ahead of the carrier the day before. They'd spent the night at the Yokosuka BOQ in order to be at the hospital at the start of visiting hours.
He'd only just learned that Coyote was due to be case-vaced once more, this time to the Naval Hospital in San Diego. He was going home, just like Snowball Newcombe, who'd been shipped out yesterday.
"Sure, sure," Batman said. "I think you've got something going with her!"
"Cool it, Batman," Tombstone said. "This here's a married man!" He grinned, then shook his head in mock despair. "My God, Coyote, you've got to come back! You haven't seen the latest flock of nuggets they're sticking us with! They just flew out to the Jefferson yesterday."
Just before they'd strapped on their Tomcats for the flight to Yokosuka, Tombstone and Batman had talked briefly with the air wing replacements. Fresh-faced, raw, and new, every one of them, full of questions about what it was like to down a MiG. Or to kill a man.
"Shitfire," Batman said, catching Tombstone's eye. "Hotdogs, every one of them. You know, I think we're gonna have our hands full!"
"Yeah, hotdogs." Tombstone threw Batman a wink. "I bet they fit right in!"
Coyote looked away, toward the window, where sunlight was spilling across mountains, water, and the drab orderliness of military buildings. The Jefferson was sliding slowly past the harbor entrance. "Yeah… well, I've been doing a lot of thinking, guys, these last few days. I don't know if I will be back."
Batman, for once, said nothing, and Tombstone was grateful. He thought he knew what the Coyote was going through.
All three of them had endured much the same test during the past week, each facing that one choice which is the secret dread of all Navy aviators: the decision to turn in his wings. A simple matter, really… a walk down to CAG's office, a flip of the fingers to send the gold device spinning through the air…
Loneliness. Strange to think of loneliness on a ship with six thousand people aboard, in a squadron where every man knew every other like a brother. But every man in the wing had an inner, private place where he could no longer rely on the camaraderie, the banter, the public image which each fighter pilot carried of himself.
For Tombstone, that loneliness had been the loneliness of responsibility, of dealing with his men's burdens while he still carried burdens of his own. For Batman, it had been the lonely confrontation with reality… and with duty.
And Coyote? He had a lonely choice too. Unlike Batman and Tombstone, he had someone waiting for him, far away in another world.
"Your choice, friend," Tombstone said softly. He found himself thinking of Snowball, of the young RIO's fear… and of his unwillingness to be ostracized by the brotherhood. He and Tombstone had forged a special bond facing death together in the crippled Tomcat, a brothers' bond. Snowball would not fly again, not as an NFO. He'd be lucky if he walked again without crutches.
But he belonged, no matter what happened. Just as Batman belonged… and the Coyote. There was a sense of family there which could not be denied.
Tombstone looked at his friend and thought he knew what he would choose. Coyote had been shaken by his experiences ashore, sure. But he was tough, tougher than Coyote himself realized right now. He needed time to work things out, but he'd be back.
"Ah, he'll be back," Batman said. "He couldn't get along without us!"
"Maybe." Tombstone put his arm over Batman's shoulders. "You know, Will, whatever happens, whatever you decide, we're with you."
Coyote grinned. "Maybe that's what I'm afraid of."
And Tombstone knew then that the Coyote would be okay. Whatever happened.
GLOSSARY
AA or AAA: Also "triple A." Antiaircraft artillery.
AAM: Air-to-air missile.
AAVP: Amphibious Armored Vehicle, Personnel. Also "AAV" or "amtrack." Amphibious Marine tracked vehicle used to ferry personnel ashore. Carries 21 Marines.
ACM: Air Combat Maneuvers. Dogfighting.
AEW: Airborne Early Warning.
Air Boss: Air Department Officer. Directs aircraft within 5 miles of carrier from Primary Flight Control.
Air Operations: Also "Air Ops." Department responsible for aircraft outside Pried-Fly's 5-mile zone.
Air Wing: All of a carrier's aircraft squadrons. A typical wing on a Nimitz-class carrier includes 2 fighter squadrons, 2 light attack or strike/fighter squadrons, 2 medium attack squadrons, 1 EW squadron, 1 AEW squadron, 1 ASW squadron, and 1 helicopter ASW squadron, for a total of 86 aircraft.
Alpha Strike: A number of aircraft carrying out a raid.