The orders were to go to the carrier and then be ferried to the Iowa for the final brief. Ricks was a little anxious to get back to the ship. He remembered being wheeled up the gangway and positioned next to the dais where the President would speak. That was where the President had placed the medal around his neck. Receiving the Medal of Honor under the big guns of the Iowa had been the proudest moment he had experienced. He remembered the look of pure love on Su Lynn’s face. The tears his mother tried to hold back. But most of all, he remembered the stupid look on his father’s face. The old man still had a hard time believing that the runt of the litter could do something like that.
Ricks smiled. His Dad had never thought he was much. Now Dale could call a President on the phone at any time and get to talk to him. He was also a hero in their small town. Not that it mattered. Ricks never let such stuff get to him. Just tell him what needed to be done and he’d get it done. Ricks had all he wanted. Su Lynn had become his wife. He had two twin boys and he had a house and his pickup. What more could a guy want, he thought.
The air crewman was waving his arms indicating everyone should assume the position to land. Ricks checked to make sure his belt was tight. The crewman checked each passenger before getting into his own seat and strapping in.
The plane banked sharply to the left and settled out. The men could tell they were descending. Suddenly the engines slowed to idle. With almost a crash, the plane bounced onto the deck. The tailhook engaged the arrestor wire and the pilot slammed the throttles forward to take off, in case they missed. Engines screaming, the plane jerked to a halt and the pilot idled the engines once again. After maneuvering around the deck, the engines finally were shut down and the door on the aircraft opened. Unstrapping, the men began to get up and move around the cramped cabin. Ricks was stopped at the door and watched as the third C-1 landed on the deck. Within a few minutes, all three aircraft were parked beside the São Paulo’s island structure.
Gathering their gear, the men were immediately escorted to a big CH-53 Super Stallion parked nearby. Once aboard, the helicopter’s turbine engines began to spool up. Within ten minutes they were airborne again.
Ricks eased out of his seat and over to Captain Chapman. Everyone was wearing a big set of hearing protectors, so Ricks had to lean right next to his ear and yell. “Somebody must be in a hurry.”
Chapman grinned and nodded. He leaned over to Ricks’ ear. “Your buddy is anxious to see you,” he said in jest.
Ricks grinned. “I like having friends in high places. Any more word?”
Chapman shook his head. “Was told to wait until we get aboard the ship.”
Ricks nodded and made his way to the door where the crewman was standing. Staring out the opening, he saw about thirty ships in some sort of formation around the Brazilian carrier São Paulo and an LHD. There were F-35 Lightnings flying around along with the Brazilian A-4s and a couple of Ospreys. In the distance was something very large, but he couldn’t quite make it out. Then, the crewman pointed toward the front of the aircraft.
USS Iowa was leaving a lighter blue wake as she steamed through the sea. From the air, the big guns looked even bigger — especially when seen with all of the crewmen moving around the decks. Her teak decks glistened brightly in the sun and she appeared to roll gently as she made her way. There was activity back aft. People were setting out fire hoses and other equipment to be ready for their landing. Just before returning to his seat, Ricks noticed a tall man in khakis exit a door on the side of the ship. From the greying hair and the way the other crewmen got out of his way, he knew it was his friend.
Upon the signal they were ready, the CH-53 made its way toward the stern of the ship on the starboard side. Following the directions of the crewman on the deck, the pilot eased the giant helo over the deck, hovering for a moment, and then gently sitting down. The rear hatch opened and the Special Operations team quickly gathered its equipment and exited the aircraft. Moments later, the big helicopter lifted off once again and made its way to USS Wasp.
Ricks turned to see Hammond walking towards him. He stopped and saluted. Hammond returned the salute, then grabbed his hand and slapped him on the arm. “Damn, it’s good to see you again Ricks,” he said.
“Same here. Seems like I’ve been aboard this thing, sir,” Ricks said.
“Yes, but now you’re on her while she’s underway. I’ll make a crewman of you yet.”
“Sorry, I’m spoken for,” Ricks said.
Captain Chapman and Captain Rhodes came up.
“Let’s get your men below to your quarters. Looks like you’ll have till tomorrow evening before we give the brief and get you on your way,” said Rhodes.
Several crewmen escorted the men down the hatch and further down to the Marine Berthing just at the end of “Broadway,” outside the engineering spaces. It was quiet, dark and cool. The men were quickly assigned a rack and each stowed his gear and cleaned up before heading out to explore the ship. Their mission had been delayed, but it was on again and they were ready to get going. Few would actually get much sleep.
It was down to the final push now. Congressman Gregory Foster was tired beyond belief. After four speeches beginning with breakfast, he had finally finished the rubber chicken dinner and said goodbye to fellow party members in Cleveland. Boarding the bus, he headed straight back to his small office to sit back and relax. As the bus began its way to Memphis, he just wanted to pull his clothes off and go to sleep on the small bed set up for him. Unfortunately, there was a planned meeting in about thirty minutes to go over the schedule and make last minute arrangements.
As he sat at his desk, there was a knock at the door. Deshawn Jackson stuck his head in. Foster smiled up at the young man. “Yes, Deshawn, you need something?” he asked.
Jackson smiled and stepped in the doorway holding a cold soda. “Actually, I just wanted to see if you might need some company,” he said. He held up the can. “I have heard that some guy in the opposite party loves these things, so I brought one just in case,” he said, placing the soda on the desk. Then he got more serious. “I know you’re tired, but sometimes a guy needs to just unwind and just talk to someone. If you need me, I’m your guy,” he said with a grin.
Foster chuckled. It was well known that O’Bannon was addicted to the things. He popped the tab on the soda and motioned Jackson in. He liked Jackson. The young man worked harder than almost anybody in the office and seemed to know what was needed before he was asked. In this case, he was spot on. “I swear, Deshawn, you seem to read my mind. What would you like to talk about?”
Jackson shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever you would like, just as long as it’s not about the campaign. How’re the daughters?”
Foster sat back in his seat. “They’re fine. Mandy is planning on joining us before the end of this tour. Alison is too busy with my new grandchild. Little Mark has started to walk and is now exploring everything in the house. She said she caught him in the dog food bag the other day feeding their puppy one piece at a time,” he said smiling. “It seems their child proofing measures aren’t as good as she thought.” He let out a chuckle.
“Yea, my sister has one a little older. She’s about two now. Sonja swears the kid is giving her gray hair, but it’s really neat when I visit and she starts to do things with me. Even at that age, they have their own little personality.”