Weed entered the holding pattern over the ship and saw helos all over the deck. It would be about ten minutes before the angle cleared for recovery. That would give him time to reflect… and to get his story straight.
CHAPTER 42
Cactus Clark knew about the incident at Maug before Weed’s hook snagged a wire.
“Get me McGill,” he growled. All were irritable from the 15-hour days.
A few minutes later, the Seventh Fleet Commander was put through.
“What happened out there, John?”
“Sir, the report we have is two Rhinos from Hanna sank two Japanese fishermen taking a break in a bay. Maug Island is uninhabited, but it’s a great anchorage. It’s ours actually, part of the Northern Marianas chain.”
“So the Japanese were there illegally?”
“Technically, yes, but it’s uninhabited, and we don’t enforce sovereignty. Fishermen anchor there often, and we just look the other way. We don’t have the resources to enforce stuff like this. There’s more. The pilots said they were shot by two hand-held SAMs. We’re verifying, and Randy Johnson will get back to me in an hour through airborne radio relay. One more piece — the lead pilot is the Deputy CAG.”
Clark groaned and shook his head. Great. He moved on.
“Okay, I’m calling the Secretary. Get me something within the hour. When this gets to the media, it will quickly get beyond our control.” Dammit, Clark thought.
“Yes, sir, out here.”
Within two minutes, Clark was on the phone with SECDEF, who already knew. Clark was dumbfounded. Who else knew?
“Admiral Clark, the State Department has already called my staff and asked what the fuck. That’s my question to you. We are in a hot war with the damn Chinese, and we’re blowing away Japanese fishing boats in an American anchorage? The White House is going to call in five minutes, so you have one minute to tell me what happened and what you’re going to do about it.”
Clark could envision the pompous career bureaucrat 5,000 miles away. Take a breath…
“Mister Secretary, two of our jets from Hancock mis-IDed two fishing boats. Just got off the phone with John McGill, and he reports the pilots were shot at by two hand-held SAMs…”
“The fucking Japanese are firing at our guys? You expect me to believe that?” SECDEF shouted.
“Sir, we are all working with fragmented information, and once the pilots are debriefed, a report will go up to John, then to me, then to you. Information is coming in piecemeal, and I asked John to give me an update in an hour.”
“An hour is too late! The White House is going to want answers in fucking minutes, and the media are going to run with this and do who knows what with it. Our enemy is the Chinese, Admiral Clark, and we aren’t taking the fight to them! When the fuck does that begin?”
Clark fought to remain in control.
Richie Casher was across the room listening on an extension as he scribbled notes. Both knew SECDEF’s people were also listening to the dressing down of a four-star commander.
“Mister Secretary, you’ll hear from me within an hour, and we’ll have enough amplifying information to control the media narrative. Maug Island is ours; everybody uses it, and we don’t make a stink. That doesn’t mean we go shooting whatever is there for no reason, but we are going to get more info and get it to you ASAP. I agree that I don’t want the media spreading rumor on a story we aren’t controlling.”
“I want those pilots grounded until further notice!” At that, Clark sat up straight in his chair.
“Sir, I can tell you right now that’s not going to happen. We are going to debrief them and assess rules of engagement and their decision matrix. But those kids got shot at. We are in a thick fog of war, sir, and we have to expect these things. We will take steps to correct, if required.”
“You believe them? Isn’t this your guys taking revenge for your losses from damn fishing boats? The Chinese are sinking ships—real ships — all over the place, and we are at war with Japanese fishing boats?”
Clark was unfazed by SECDEF, a contemptible apparatchik.
“Yes, sir, I do believe them. I don’t know them, and they are 4,000 miles away from me, but I believe them and trust in their training and their judgment. So does John and so does their embarked admiral. That’s our going-in position, and we’ll debrief them. Then we’ll see how this can be prevented and assess blame. Maybe I’m to blame, and, if so, you’ll know it. But those kids are on the front line and we need ‘em. Stuff like this happens in warfare. Doesn’t mean we excuse or ignore it.” Clark sensed he had wasted his breath, and he was correct.
“Admiral Clark, I want answers now!”
“One hour, sir!” Clark shot back.
The line went dead. “All this and a paycheck, too,” Clark muttered, loud enough for Casher to hear.
“Admiral, I’ll call my buddy on Admiral McGill’s staff to light a fire under them.”
“Yes, but I’m convinced they feel enough heat already. We’ll keep Washington away from them — unless the bastards do an end-around. Get the Political Advisor and Public Affairs Officer in here, chop-chop.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Casher said, and turned for the door.
With Wilson and the Admiral waiting for him in Flag Plot, Weed deplaned from the top of the bow. With the ear-splitting whine of jet engines all around them, he grabbed Killer and the two of them went to the starboard catwalk and found a hatchway. Once inside, they dogged the hatch and removed their helmets.
“You saw the two MANPADs,” Weed said, more fact than question.
“Yes, sir, and the second one almost nailed you. I think it went off on a flare.”
“The two boats…. They were 200–300 yards from the one that shot me in the cove?”
“I’d say, sir.” Killer answered. Knowing the admiral was waiting, Weed led them aft.
“Your Maverick shot? How close were you?”
“Right on them, sir, damn near point-blank at min range.”
Weed then had a realization. Damn! “Were your tapes on to record your shots?” He looked over his shoulder as he waited for the answer.
Killer’s eyes got big. “Ah… no, sir! In the excitement, I forgot!”
“Fuck,” Weed muttered in disgust.
“Sorry, sir!”
“No, don’t feel bad. I forgot, too.” Dammit.
They continued aft with their flight gear scraping the bulkheads as sailors passed in the opposite direction. Without the video images and voice recordings prior to their shots, their case would be harder to make. They had been shot at, and fishing boats had proven to be threats out here. One looked like another, and there was no time! Could he have withdrawn? He knew the answer was yes. He also knew he had wanted to fire back, to exact revenge. In anger.
Wilson opened his stateroom door as Weed approached. “Hey, just in time, the admiral is waiting for us. You guys okay?”