“This may have started out real, but turned into an exercise because we and the British were here. One day we won’t be and there will be nothing to stop them.”
Jacobs stood at the aft safety line as Agazzi approached. It had been several hours since Sea Base had secured from General Quarters. The sun was disappearing off the horizon.
“Looks as if the China crisis has resolved itself,” Jacobs said between puffs.
“Until next time.”
“We’ll have to fight them eventually.”
“We may not have to, but our children might.”
“Or we may decide it isn’t worth the blood necessary to be involved.”
Agazzi nodded, gripping the safety lines with both hands. “You find your sailor?”
Jacobs shook his head. “Nope. Don’t know if he’s knocked out somewhere; lost belowdecks, groping for topside; or fell overboard. They’re still looking, which is why I’m still here.” Agazzi looked around. “Here?”
“Yep, this is our quarterdeck during GQ. Makes it easier for my sailors to find me when they need me.”
“You can’t stay up here all night by yourself.”
Jacobs pointed to the shadows off to his right. “I’m not. Got Petty Officer Todd over there with his brick keeping contact with the search party.” He glanced at his watch. “Showder-nitzel is coming back later tonight and will take the midwatch. If we haven’t found him by tomorrow afternoon, then we’ll list him as missing, presumed overboard. The Skipper has the helicopters and ships out looking for four people who are missing.”
“Who are the others?”
“One is an Air Force sergeant who had been on board about a week, and the other one is another boatswain mate named Taleb. And we have a civilian contractor who is missing also.”
“You have two of your troops reported overboard?” Agazzi asked in amazement. “Two seems…”
“He’s not mine.” Jacobs shrugged. “Seems no one knows where he was assigned. He was on the Watch-Quarter-Station bill for the crow’s nest during GQ, but no one knows which division he was assigned.” He paused for a moment, then continued. “Showdernitzel knows this Taleb, but she thought he was assigned to Combat. Combat has never seen or heard of him.”
“A mystery?”
“Or associated with the helicopter.”
“What helicopter?”
Jacobs spent the next few minutes telling Agazzi about the strange helicopter that landed, and then quickly took off. He also told him about seeing men from the helicopter toss someone who seemed to be reluctant to go with them on board the departing craft.
“Wow! Quite a tale for the grandchildren,” Agazzi finally said. “Might have been one of the four missing?”
“That’s why I don’t think we’ll find all four. I think one or two of the missing is still on board, but I think a couple of them probably flew off on the helicopter. With the gunfire surrounded the liftoff, might be dead for all we know.” “Gunfire?”
“Yeah, Mr. Zeichner and NCIS was shooting at them.” “Zeichner!” Agazzi shook his head. “I’m surprised at a man his size being in a gun battle.” He looked at Jacobs. “You’re friends with Zeichner; did he say anything or tell you what happened?”
“No, I got to the location with a few of my armed-to-the-teeth boatswain mates, but by then the helicopter was off the deck and gone. Mr. Zeichner was trying to catch his breath and the other two, Kevin Gainer and some woman whom I had never seen on Sea Base, refused to comment.” He shrugged. “Still a mystery, but with some of the secret laws we have for terrorism and such, I think the gunfight was between two different sets of police.”
“You got to be kidding me.”
“Would I kid you?”
“All the time.”
Jacobs sighed. “We’ll find out what happened eventually. Meanwhile, let’s hope we find the ones who are really missing.”
“Hope you’re right.”
“I think this Taleb had to be one of those on that helicopter. No one has heard of him officially on Sea Base and now that he’s gone, no one can recall him reporting on board. He just appeared one day.”
“What about the others?”
“The new kid who landed this morning I think fell overboard, but I hope we find him knocked out or lost belowdecks on one of these massive Sealift ships. I would like to know where he is. He has a family and loved ones who are going to be devastated when they are told. Chief Willard, the Air Force senior enlisted person, says they have already submitted their presumed lost report on their — What was her name?” Jacobs reached up, pulled a three-by-five card from his pocket, and read from it. “Her name is Sergeant Kathy Norton.” He slipped the card back into his pocket.
“How about the missing civilian?”
Jacobs shook his head. “Not my problem,” he said, taking the cigar from between his lips. “NCIS is handling it. I offered to help as much as we could. They thanked me and went off. I think he might be another one that left in that helicopter.”
The conversation faded after a while. On the other side of Sea Base, a Royal Navy helicopter approached for landing.
“Chief!” Technical Sergeant Lou Thomas shouted, holding his radio aloft. “They’re bringing Major Johnson aboard!” Willard hurried over to where Thomas stood, wiping his hands on a faded red rag jerked from his back pocket. “Does the Ready Room know?”
“Major Crawford broadcast it. They’re on their way up. She’s early.”
Willard shoved the rag back into his pocket.
“Wonder how banged up she is,” Thomas said.
Willard looked down at the young airman. “She didn’t have to be banged up at all. Captain Franklin says she saved his life.”
“Wonder if she did it intentionally.”
“Who knows?”
“She would.”
“There will always be someone who will doubt she did it to save her wingman.”
“Everything we’d heard about her—”
“Shut up, Lou. Whatever we heard is bullshit. What you do in the heat of the moment, in the chaos of an air battle, and without regard for your own safety is the true measure of your grit. Johnson has grit, even if she lacks some of the social graces we enlisted like to see in our officers.”
“You mean like courtesy and respect.”
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?”
“Yeah, Chief, you did, but you only told me once.”
The helicopter touched down. The sailor guiding the helicopter down crossed the lighted flashlights—torches, they called them—telling the pilots they were down, chocked, and could secure their engines.
As the propellers wound down, other members of the Air Force detachment surrounded Willard and Thomas as if they had marked the spot for the crowd to wait.
Corpsmen from Sea Base hospital facilities waited with a wheelchair near the helicopters. Finally, the side door opened. A couple of crewmen jumped down, reached inside, and helped Johnson onto the deck. They held her as the corpsmen approached. Johnson stood up and waved them away.
Franklin started forward first, soon the others joined, and by the time they reached Major Johnson they were a laughing, congratulating, and happy group of flyers who recognized heroes in their midst. Shouts of “Commander” and “Pickles” and “Welcome back.”
Franklin stopped a couple of feet from her, snapped to attention, and saluted. “Welcome home, Commander.”
Johnson nodded. In the faint light of the setting sun, moisture glistened in her eyes as she looked around her detachment. The initial noise quieted for a moment. She looked back at Franklin. “Are you all right?”