“Yes, sir. Thank you,” she answered, sinking into one of the chairs facing the desk.
Macintyre gave his aide a nod, then settled back into his own chair.
“First of all, Captain,” he continued, “I’d like to mention that your requal scores came across my desk this morning.”
Amanda straightened slightly. “Our observer team leader indicated to me that he was satisfied with our performance. I hope that you are as well, sir.”
Macintyre nodded. “To say the least, Captain. The Cunningham is hanging on to her E. You hit the upper ten percent in all divisions. Actually, closer to the upper two in most. Exceedingly well done. But then, that’s what I’ve come to expect from the Duke.”
Amanda felt herself begin to flush. “Thank you, sir.”
“You may not want to thank me after this briefing is over. How soon can the Duke be ready to sortie?”
Oh, Lord, here it comes, Amanda thought feverishly. They needed to get the ship pulled back together again after the conflag exercise. They needed to fully replenish. They needed to deal with at least some of their in-port maintenance backlog. Those of her crew who had dependents in Hawaii needed some kind of time to get them squared away.
But there was also only one answer she could give for the Duke.
“If we can get some help with our loading, sir, we can be under way by sixteen hundred this afternoon.”
Macintyre nodded again and smiled slightly. Amanda guessed that a check had just been made on a positive side of a column.
“Very good, Captain, but things aren’t quite that bad. I can give you a little less than forty-eight hours. We need you out of here by oh six hundred the day after tomorrow.”
Amanda released a mental sigh of relief. “No problem, sir.”
“Good enough. Here’s the package. You’re being deployed into the East China Sea to act as an independent intelligence-gathering platform. Once on station, you will monitor the developing aspects of the Chinese civil war, via both your ship’s systems and the tactical sensor net you will be setting up.
“Specific tasking orders will be issued to you through this command from the Defense Intelligence Agency, as the situation develops.” The Admiral paused as his aide reappeared with a tray bearing two steaming mugs and the appropriate accoutrements, unobtrusively placing it on the desk sideboard.
“Thanks, Simons,” he said. “Cream and sugar, Captain?”
“Yes, sir. Both.”
Macintyre served her himself. Amanda noted the touch of courtliness as he did so. It matched the way he had come to his feet when she had entered his office. Amanda, in turn, accepted it as her just due.
Returning to his chair, Macintyre tilted it back to a comfortable angle.
“The basic mission premise is pretty simple,” he continued, following his first sip of coffee. “The tricky aspect is going to be setting up your remote sensors. The Duke will have to work inshore, inside Chinese coastal waters. Just how far inside will be left to your judgment and the tactical situation.
“However, the very bright and very expensive people who designed this paraphernalia seem to indicate the closer the better. Your intelligence officer will be able to outline the exact parameters of the sensor-deployment envelope for you.”
Macintyre set his cup on the desktop. “Your mission profile may also include having to fly projection missions over the mainland with your helos. There will be some National Security tie-ins on this aspect of the deployment. Your intel will be able to fill you in on this as well.”
Her cooling coffee forgotten, Amanda frowned lightly and considered the mission outline he had just given her.
“Once I’m on station, who will I be answering to in theater?” she inquired.
“You’ll be working inside Task Force 7.1’s modified local operating area. You’ll be drawing replenishment from them and, should this thing go to guns for any reason, you’ll be under their tactical command. Beyond that eventuality, however, you’ll be operating on your own recognizance.”
An independent command. The chance to cut loose from a carrier’s apron strings and be a captain-under-God again.
“The thing is,” Macintyre continued levelly, “you’ll have to develop a good operational relationship out there with Admiral Tallman. I know Jake. He’s a good man. But we Flag types can be somewhat short when it comes to having an outsider rambling around in what we perceive as our territory.
“Technically, you may not be under his command, but you sure as hell are going to have to work with him.”
“I understand, sir.” Amanda nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
“I’m certain you will, Commander. That’s why I’m writing a comparatively junior officer such a massive blank check. Because I think she’ll know all the right places to cash it.”
It wasn’t necessary for him to mention that he was drawing that check on his personal reputation and that of his new command.
Amanda knew that Elliot Macintyre had antagonized more than a few people in setting NAVSPECFORCE up the way he wanted it. Those people would be more than pleased to see this operation fall flat on its face first crack out of the box.
“The Cunningham will not let you down, sir.”
“I can’t conceive of her doing so, Captain.”
“Does this operation have a designation yet?”
Macintyre gave another nod. “Yes, it has. I chose it myself. Operation Uriah. Remember your Bible?”
She did, and smiled as she made the connection.
“Very appropriate, sir. Uriah the Hittite, sent to the forefront of battle. And I fully expect the Cunningham to be far more fortunate in danger than he was, sir.”
Amanda gave Christine Rendino a lift back to the ship following their briefing sessions. Lord! She’d have to find time to turn her car in at the leasing agency before they sailed. Just something else to have to worry about. At least they had forty-eight — no, make that forty-two now — hours to work with. A month’s worth of preparation to complete in less than two days. But with her people, just maybe she could make it.
“Interesting night?”
“It certainly was, Chris. Who would have figured the Taiwanese would pull an off-the-wall stunt like this?”
“Ahem, that was a query, not a statement. As in ‘it an …’”
“It was all right,” Amanda replied, striving to keep her voice carefully casual. “I just went out to dinner.”
“Now, why do I find that hard to believe?” Christine turned in the passenger seat to face Amanda. “Word is that you were wearing your blue China dress last night. You’ve shown me that outfit, Skipper, and that is not something you’d wear to ‘a dinner.’ “
The blond Intel had her large gray-blue eyes locked on Amanda with the fixed intensity she reserved for an exceptionally interesting intelligence challenge.
“Chris, what’s this all about?”
“It’s not about anything, other than the fact that I’m an incorrigible snoop. Why do you think I chose this career path, anyway? Now, who’s the new guy?”
Amanda just managed to keep from squirming uncomfortably behind the steering wheel.
“Chris, you know how I am. My affairs are my affair.”
Not exactly true. She and Chris had shared more than one port-of-call story over the years of their acquaintance. But, God, what was she supposed to say now?
“Besides, Lieutenant,” Amanda continued, “we’ve got more important things to worry about at the moment.”
Invoking rank wasn’t the best save in the world to use with Chris, but it was all she could come up with at short notice.
“As you wish, Captain,” Christine replied primly, refocusing her attention outside of the car, the faintest trace of a grin ghosting around her lips.