There was a crowd of people heading for the flight deck and she went with the flow, up the ladders and then out the hatch into the bright sunshine. To her surprise, several hundred sailors already stood in formation in their white uniforms. The captain, executive officer, and the admiral stood at a microphone stand in front of them.
As she watched, the helicopter hatch opened. Two lines of sideboys formed up, all immaculate in dress whites. Bells, sideboys — who exactly was this?
Seconds later, she knew. Six men in dark jumpsuits wearing sunglasses and caps emerged, fanning out around the sideboys. They checked the crowd carefully, then one of them turned back to the helicopter.
A familiar figure — tall, dark hair with silver along the edges, and bright blue eyes — emerged. He seemed at home on the flight deck, entirely comfortable with the military honors being rendered, and returned the salutes tendered snappily.
The president. What was he doing here, so soon after the election? Shouldn’t he be in Washington, attending parties? Then the scene became surreal in the extreme. The president walked toward Coyote and Captain Phillips, returned their salutes, and then accepted a small box and a padded certificate holder from the admiral. He looked around, as though puzzled.
An awards ceremony, then. So why wasn’t it announced? And who was it for? A number of names came immediately to her mind, and she swore silently about the public affairs officer’s failure to notify her about the ceremony. No, it wasn’t hard news, but it was good human interest stuff.
Her cameraman had arrived and stood by her side. He was already rolling as the president emerged from his helicopter.
The admiral saw them, and to her amazement, the admiral and a president began walking toward her. She had a brief, irrational impulse to curtsy, which she suppressed immediately.
“Ms. Drake,” the president said. “How are you feeling now?”
“Fine, Mr. President. None of us suffered any injuries.”
“Well, fine. I’m afraid I have some bad news for you, Ms. Drake.” The president’s expression was somber. Pamela felt a flash of anger. Tombstone had promised she was out of purgatory. If the president thought he was going to get good press for this ceremony, he had another think coming.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. President. Of course, the freedom of the press has always been something you’ve supported. If you intend to reinstate the admiral’s policy of barring the press from significant events, then I’m afraid I will have to—”
“Ms. Drake, I think you want to shut up right now,” Coyote said, a huge grin breaking out on his face. “The bad news is not that we’re going to get rid of you. It’s that for once in your life, perhaps the first and final time, you are the last one to know something.”
“What?” Pamela searched for words, unable to figure out why both the president and the admiral were grinning at her. Then the admiral stepped to her side, offered her his arm, and said, “You are the guest of honor at this little ceremony, Ms. Drake. And I would be honored to escort you to the podium.”
She turned to her cameraman and was not surprised to see him laughing at her, still taping. “You knew,” she said accusingly.
“Listen to the admiral, Drake,” Jeff said.
Five minutes later, Pamela Drake was sporting a defense metal on her lapel. And trying desperately to figure out how she was going to explain it to her boss.
GLOSSARY
0–3 LEVEL: The third deck above the main deck. Designations for decks above the main deck (also known as the damage control deck) begin with zero, e.g., 0–3. The zero is pronounced as “oh” in conversation. Decks below the main deck do not have the initial zero and are numbered down from the main deck, e.g., deck 11 is below deck 3. Deck 0–7 is above deck 0–3.
IMC: The general announcing system on a ship or submarine. Every ship has many different interior communications systems, most of them linking parts of the ship for a specific purpose. Most operate off sound-powered phones. The circuit designators consist of a number followed by two letters that indicate the specific purpose of the circuit. 2AS, for instance, might be an antisubmarine warfare circuit that connects the sonar supervisor, the USW watch officer, and the sailor at the torpedo launch.
AIR BOSS: A senior commander or captain assigned to the aircraft carrier, in charge of flight operations. The “boss” is assisted by the mini-boss in Pri-Fly, located in the tower on board the carrier. The air boss is always in the tower during flight operations, overseeing the launch and recovery cycles, declaring a green deck, and monitoring the safe approach of aircraft to the carrier.
AIR WING: Composed of the aircraft squadrons assigned to the battle group. The individual squadron commanding officers report to the air wing commander, who reports to the admiral.
AIRDALE: Slang for an officer or enlisted person in the aviation fields. Includes pilots, NFOs, aviation intelligence officers, maintenance officers, and the enlisted technicians who support aviation. The antithesis of an airdale is a “shoe.”
AKULA: Late-model Russian-built attack nuclear submarine, an SSN. Fast, deadly, and deep diving.
ALR-67: Detects, analyzes, and evaluates electromagnetic signals, emits a warning signal if the parameters are compatible with an immediate threat to the aircraft, e.g., seeker head on an anti-air missile. Can also detect an enemy radar in either a search or a targeting mode.
ALTITUDE: is safety. With enough airspace under the wings, a pilot can solve any problem.
AMRAAM: Advanced medium-range anti-air missile.
ANGELS: Thousands of feet over ground. Angels twenty is twenty thousand feet. Cherubs indicates hundreds of feet, e.g., cherubs five = five hundred feet.
ASW: Anti-submarine warfare, recently renamed undersea warfare. For some reason.
AVIONICS: Black boxes and systems that comprise an aircraft’s combat systems.
AW: Aviation anti-submarine warfare technician, the enlisted specialist flying in an S-3, P-3, or helo USW aircraft. As this book goes to press, there is discussion of renaming the specialty.
AWACS: An aircraft entirely too good for the Air Force, the advanced warning aviation control system. Long-range command-and-control and electronic-intercept bird with superb capabilities.
AWG-9: Pronounced “awg nine,” the primary search and fire control radar on a Tomcat.
BACKSEATER: Also known as the GIB, the guy in back. Nonpilot aviator available in several flavors: BN (bombardier/navigator), RIO (radar intercept operator), and TACCO (tactical control officer), among others. Usually wears glasses and is smart.
BEAR: Russian maritime patrol aircraft, the equivalent in rough terms of a U.S. P-3. Variants have primary missions in command and control, submarine hunting, and electronic intercepts. Big, slow, good targets.
BITCH BOX: One interior communications system on a ship. So named because it’s normally used to bitch at another watch station.
BLUE ON BLUE: Fratricide. U.S. forces are normally indicated in blue on tactical displays, and this term refers to an attack on a friendly by another friendly.
BLUE WATER NAVY: Outside the unrefueled range of the air wing. When a carrier enters blue water ops, aircraft must get on board — i.e., land — and cannot divert to land if the pilot gets the shakes.
BOOMER: Slang for a ballistic missile submarine.