“The seafighters are set to go now, sir,” Emberly interjected. “Give us the word and we’ll get the job done.”
There was a commander’s pride in the TACBOSS’s words, but there was also something close to boastfulness. Macintyre glanced in Emberly’s direction. “Well, that’s fine, Captain. But I think that General Belewa will be the man giving us all the word when the time comes.”
A silence hung in the air for a few moments, and then Macintyre returned his attention to the base commander. “Okay, Jim, what’s the agenda?”
“We’ve got a series of intelligence briefings scheduled for the next couple of days, as well as a couple of planning sessions with the British and French liaisons. Commander Rendino’s been setting up the program.”
Christine nodded. “Yes, sir. Since we haven’t been getting much formal word on how this operation is going to be structured, I figured it might be worthwhile getting some informal guidelines going.”
Macintyre nodded and tugged his cap lower over his eyes, water dripping from its visor. “Good thinking, Commander. When do we start?”
“We have a general orientation briefing scheduled for about forty-five minutes from now, sir. But if you’d like to rest up some from your flight…”
“Forget it. I’m not that decrepit yet. I want to be brought up to speed ASAP. We don’t have much time to waste. Jim, my aide can lug my gear over to my quarters if you can provide him with some transportation. For now, I’d like to have a quick look around the base just to get my bearings. Commander Rendino here can drive me. I’ve got some intelligence matters I need to discuss with her.”
In spite of the rain, they left the windows of the HumVee open, the motion-breeze rendering the sodden humidity of the air a little more tolerable.
“What do you want to see first, sir?” Christine inquired.
“Nothing much in particular, really,” Macintyre replied, unzipping his jacket. “Just take us once around the field perimeter. Frankly, Commander, I want to talk to you off the record about a couple of things before we go into this first briefing.”
“Sure thing, sir,” Christine slued the big military 4 × 4 onto the perimeter road that circled the airfield. “What’s up?”
“First, how are things with TACNET? What’s your status?”
“It’s coming together, sir,” she replied over the muttering growl of the diesel power plant. “Some elements are already partially on line, and the rest are in theater and deploying.”
“What coverage do we currently have, and how much more time will you need to be fully operational?”
The intel considered. “Floater 1 is all the way up and running. She has her aerostat streamed, and they’re already flying off the smaller Eagle Eye drones. That’s giving us good coverage of the central Union coast, east to about Greenville and west to the Sherbro island shadow.
“The other two ’stat carriers, the Bravo and the Valiant, have both arrived in Conakry and are replenishing from their haul across the Atlantic. They should be out on the Guinea East and Guinea West stations by this time tomorrow night, giving us full radar and signal intelligence coverage of the Guinea littoral as well.”
Christine took a hand off the wheel and indicated one of the big hangars spaced along the edge of the flight line. “The Predator squadron is setting up there and the first of their birds is being assembled now. Last word I had was that they should be ready to launch by dawn tomorrow. The drone control nodes here and on Floater 1 are operational, and Abidjan should be up by midnight.”
A bead of sweat trickled down the back of her neck, and she impatiently flipped her cap into the HumVee’s backseat. “I’ll be shifting the TACNET command and analysis nodes out to the Floater sometime during the next couple of days. Like all of the other tactical elements, we’ll be running our show from out there. Barring any Murphys, we should have the whole package integrated and functional in about another twenty-four to thirty-six hours.”
Macintyre nodded. “And how about everybody else?”
“About the same status, sir. We’re all getting there. The problem is that we’re… that is, our people, the Brits and the French, are all getting there separately. It’s still a stovepiped command structure. Everybody’s still operating in their own little national boxes. There’s almost no cross-coordination going on. Everyone’s waiting for the official word about how the local chain of command is going to be set up.”
Macintyre grunted and rested his arm on the open window frame of the Hummer. “I’m bringing in a word all right, Commander. But it may not be the one anybody wants to hear. Now, I need to know something else. How’s Captain Emberly doing with the Tactical Action Group?”
Christine winced inwardly, suddenly feeling thin professional ice under her skates. If it had been Amanda sitting there next to her, she knew how she would have answered. On the other hand, she was out in the real navy now. She opted for the PC response. “I don’t have much input on that, sir,” she said, carefully wording the reply. “I’m sure that Commander Emberly will be able to fill you in better than I can.”
“Dammit, pull this thing over!”
Obediently, Christine pulled the Humvee over to the muddy roadside. Twisting around in the passenger’s seat, Macintyre fixed her with a stern stare. “Commander, when I spoke with Amanda Garrett about attaching you to my staff, she assured me of two things. One being that you are always aware of everything that’s going on around you. The other was that you always can be trusted to lay the facts on the line.
“Now, I’m fully aware that Captain Emberly is the theater TACBOSS and that you are answerable to him in the chain of command. However, I am not asking you, as a junior officer, to professionally rate Captain Emberly while he’s not present. I am asking you, as one of my intelligence officers, to provide me with an assessment of a critical situation affecting this operation. Now, come across with it, young lady.”
Christine sighed, her hands resting on the steering wheel. “Captain Emberly has done really good work with getting the seafighters ready to go,” she replied. “PG-AC l is working up rapidly, and the support bases for both it and Patrol Craft Group 9 have been established and are fully operational. I can’t fault the job he has done with his systems and his personnel. Beyond that, I can’t say, sir. I haven’t had the chance to work with him very much.”
“Hasn’t he been working with you on a doctrine and operations plan?”
She shook her head. “No, sir, he has not. Maybe he’s working on something with his own people, but he hasn’t been accessing either me, TACNET, or the theater database to any great degree. I also know that he hasn’t been making any medicine with anyone over at PC-9. I’ve had words with Lieutenant Commander Klasinski about this, and he and his Special Boat Squadron people are getting nervous over it. Mission planning doesn’t seem to be a priority with Captain Emberly.”
Christine hesitated for a moment, then took a deep and deliberate breath and plunged on. “I’ve tried to bring the subject up with the Captain, but he keeps sliding me off. His primary focus has been on getting his hardware good to go and not on what he’ll be doing with it.
“The impression I get is that all he thinks he needs to do is to wave a little high tech under the Union’s nose and the bad guys will all throw up their hands, scream ‘Lawsy me,’ and faint. Well, fa’sure it’s not going to work that way, Admiral. We have a damn tricky situation developing down here, and Captain Emberly needs to realize it real fast.
“I hope that was straight enough for you, sir?” she finished apologetically.
Macintyre nodded slowly. “Quite adequate, Commander. I was afraid of something like this. I agree. You can’t find fault with the work Phil Emberly’s done with the seafighter program up to this point. He’s a damn good R and D man, but that’s all he is. He doesn’t have any combat time under his belt.”