"No," Brewer corrected. "Okay, think for a second. Let's assume that the mystery ship that entered our air space before the assassination comes from the same place they took JB. Well if they took Jorge on a Stingray then they couldn't be too far off, Stingrays don't have great range. They burn a shit load of fuel." "They could have extra tanks," Stanton said. "Or maybe in-flight refueling." "They could," Jon agreed. "But we haven't seen anything to say they do." Lori chimed in, "Hey, it's a place to start."
"And we have to start somewhere," Jon echoed. "Like Brett said, we don't have much in the way of solid evidence. But if The Order is behind this and if they have a base floating off the coast somewhere and we can find it that changes the whole equation. Besides, what's one of the first things Evan and Dante did when they signed this bull shit treaty? Remember?"
Nina did, because the very idea of such a concession shocked her.
"He restricted dreadnought flights to within our borders. That means only a few miles out to sea and that's it."
"That's right," Jon nodded. "The type of condition I'd want if I had some kind of secret base within striking range of our east coast." "And Evan fell for it," Lori said. Stanton asked Jon, "So what is it you're planning to do?" "We're going to follow those radar blips off the coast and see what we can find."
The phone at the head of the table buzzed. Jon stared at it. No one from the government had tried to contact him yet, although they had to be aware he had taken off with the Excalibur.
In truth, he had done nothing outside his jurisdiction but sooner or later Dante would call to find out what he was up to. At that moment, either the game would be afoot or perhaps they could continue under the guise of a training mission for a few more days. He did not know. He did not feel comfortable with subterfuge.
After letting it buzz a few more times, Jon answered the call and listened to the message from Woody "Bear" Ross. Jon then hung up the phone and promptly stood. "That was Bear, I have to get to the bridge." Lori noticed her husband's face grow ghastly white. "Jon? What is it?" "Let's go," he repeated in place of an answer.
The group made their way to an elevator and rode the car one deck higher. Once there, they traversed a short corridor passed two of the handful of military sentries onboard, opened a bulkhead door, and walked onto the bridge.
Half of the stations were manned, the rest empty for lack of crew. Ross stood among the monitors and controls that turned him into the Excalibur's 'brain.'
A thin strand of misty cloud brushed across the bridge windows then cleared, providing a view of a massive silhouette hovering off the bow, blocking the Excalibur's path.
The Chrysaor had come calling.
26. Confrontation
Two titans faced off in the middle of the night with no one to witness the confrontation; only the silent waters of the Atlantic below and the stars of a summer night above.
The bridge of the Excalibur grew so quiet that the skeleton crew could hear the jet thrusters of the Chrysaor's alert fighters whizzing around the ship like wasps waiting to strike.
Outside, far beyond the windows passed the tip of the bow, hovered the black silhouette of the opposing dreadnought. The moonlight flickered off thin veils of clouds in the short space between the ships.
Woody "Bear" Ross-plugged into the command module in front of the Captain's chair-broke the silence.
"Incoming transmission, General."
Despite serving as the 'brain,' Ross knew the communication came for Brewer. A light flashed yellow on an empty station in front of the command area. Jon pushed a button on the panel, opening communications.
Captain Kristy Kaufman's voice broadcast over a speaker. Everyone on the bridge heard her voice, but their eyes remained locked on the floating city blocking their path.
"General Brewer, this is Captain Kaufman. I need to know why the Excalibur is out of dry dock without authorization."
Jon answered, "Kristy, last time I checked I don't answer to you. And I am authorized to change the Excalibur's duties as I see fit. She is my ship." "Excuse me, General, but my orders come from the Secretary of Defense." "What are your orders, Captain? Specifically." She explained, "To intercept your ship and ascertain your intentions." An F-15 flew close enough to shake the bridge window.
"I will tell you my intentions, Captain. I am investigating evidence that recently came to light in regards to the assassination of Trevor Stone. I am acting in reaction to an imminent threat to our nation."
Kaufman transmitted, "Sir, I'm afraid I need more information than that. Or, I guess, the Secretary of Defense will need more information than that. What is your course?"
Jon leaned toward the speaker on the console and through clenched teeth told his opposite number, "That information is classified. But tell Dante Jones to come aboard my ship and I will share the info with him personally. Tell him we have a lot to discuss."
"He's, well, he's not here, sir," Kaufman answered. "He's back in Washington."
"Then I suggest you go back there and tell him what I just told you."
The planes flew closer. The Chrysaor held its position.
"I can't do that, sir."
"What do you mean, you can't do that? Let me make it simple for you, Captain. As your superior officer I'm giving you a direct order. Stand down."
"My orders-"
"I just gave you new orders," General Brewer commanded. "Now you have a choice to make, Captain. You can get out of my way, or you can open fire on my ship." That struck a nerve with Kaufman. "Sir! I have no intention of-" "No? Isn't that what Dante told you to do?" "He-"
"Answer me, Kristy! You are talking to Jon Brewer, not some damn politician. You will answer me."
"I was…I was given orders to turn you back, with whatever means necessary."
Brewer cut through all the political posturing, all the gray areas, all the back room chit-chats with winks and nods. He spelled it out for Kristy Kaufman.
"The Secretary of Defense told you to come out here and shoot us out of the sky if you had to. So tell me Kristy, are you going to kill Bear, too? He's standing right here, next to me. What would Stonewall think? What would he tell you to do? I know you're close to Dante, but I can't believe you're going to follow orders as wrong as those. But then again, I didn't think Evan would allow the Witiko to take away Trevor's son, JB. You remember Jorge, don't you? Weren't you at the estate one year for his birthday party?"
"What? Trevor's son? I don't believe that. I can't believe that."
"I guess that's up to you. You decide who to believe. What does your gut tell you?"
The Captain of the Chrysaor tried to find an easy way out: "I think… I think Dante and Evan are just interested in the fugitives. If they're not on your ship, then I see no reason to-"
Jon would not let her take an easy way out. "They're right here, Captain, standing on my bridge. Nina, Ashley, and Rick Hauser are right here and Gordon Knox is in my sick bay. My wife and my daughter are onboard, too. You remember them, don't you? We started it all together, with Trevor. I remember the day you and Stonewall, Bear and Dustin and Benny came to the estate. Garrett told stories for hours and he had to keep reminding everyone that he knew he wasn't Stonewall Jackson. Do you remember that?"
Silence for several long seconds. The planes continued to circle.
"Yes."
"What's happened since then, Kristy? How did we get here?" Jon's voiced carried not only over the speaker, but around the bridge. "Somewhere along the way we lost sight of what's really going on. Each year we had more and more bureaucrats; each year more side issues to distract us. There are politicians in Washington more worried about image and public relations than survival. They’re dancing around while the house is still burning." A hint of sadness came across the speaker: "The General, he knew how to boil things down to what was important." "I miss him, too," Brewer said. Ross muttered a soft "hoo-rah" from the command module. Jon continued, "What would he say right now?" Kristy chuckled and replied, "He'd say this is a fine pickle we've gotten ourselves in. Or something like that." Jon nodded, "Wow, yeah, that's exactly how he would put it." "I'm in a tough spot, General," she conceded. "I have friends on both sides."