“Is that hot blonde single?” asked a voice from the crowd. Everyone broke out laughing.
“Sorry, fellas. I’m taken,” Emily answered.
“Shut it, Henrik,” the Chief told the sailor.
“We’ll have the medical team here, too, as one of the pilot’s is not feeling well,” Mark paused again. “Okay, if no other questions, we really do need your help. Thank you.”
Mark turned to Emily and Robert, and gave a big smile. “Kind of nice out here tonight. Clear, but cold… and peaceful. Well… let’s give Washington a call.”
“This is Jason,” he said, answering his Blackberry from the back seat of the Chevy Suburban. Jason was traveling with the Deputy, inbound to the Crystal Gateway Marriott Hotel in Crystal City to speak at the Annual Association of the United States Army, one of the countless Washington DC lobbying groups for Army soldiers and defense contractors in the National Capitol Region.
“Jason, this is the Watch Officer. I have an inbound call from the USS Abraham Lincoln, Officer of the Deck. There is a ‘Mark S’ that wishes to talk with the Deputy.”
“The Lincoln? No, no, the Deputy is preparing to give a speech and is unable to talk, so why don’t you…”
“Who is that Jason?” the Deputy asked.
Jason hid his Blackberry in his chest. “The USS Abraham Lincoln? Someone named Mark? I told them you were busy and that…”
“No, stop that. Give me the phone,” the Deputy said. He cleared his throat. “This is Calvin Burns.”
“Sir, this is the Watch Officer. I’m patching through a call from the USS Abraham Lincoln. Go ahead caller.”
“Sir, this is Mark. Are you there, sir?” Mark asked.
“Hello. Go ahead, Mark. I’m here. How are you guys doing?”
“Terrific. Ahh, you in the green?” asked Mark.
I don’t have a God damn clue, as the Deputy huffed quietly. The Deputy pulled the phone off his ear, looked at the screen, but couldn’t tell from a glance. “Jason, is this God damn thing cleared for classified? We green here or what? Let’s hurry up,” said the Deputy, bothered with the bureaucracy. Jason nodded yes.
Annoyed, Calvin told him, “Oh, for Christ’s sake. Yeah, yeah, Mark, go ahead.”
“Sir, Ford and Wu took off from Tianjin in the jet. Not sure of their status or take off time, but we’re expecting them sometime soon. The Lincoln is fully prepped and expecting them. Both the Admiral and the Lincoln aren’t too happy about us landing a foreign jet without a tailhook, but they accepted it. We feel that they’ll land in the coming hour or hours. Ah, Lincoln did a nice job preparing. Welders are here. NDA’s signed for ship crew. Just a waiting game now.”
“All right, all right. Okay. Keeping PACOM informed?” asked Deputy Burns.
“CO of the ship, a Navy Captain named Muddy Waters, has that covered for us. Sir, what we recommend, and soon, is that you back brief the Director, then the SecDef.”
“SecDef? Huh. Well, Director is traveling at the moment with USD (I). Both are inbound to the NATO Conference in Brussels.”
“Sir, the unclassified, public schedule says SecDef has no public appearances today and is not traveling. He must be at the Pentagon.”
“Oh, boy….yeah, you’re right. Agree. Okay, I’ll, ah. I’ll cancel my AUSA speech and go over to see him. Keep me in the loop. Deputy out.”
The Deputy ended the call and looked down at the floor. He just wanted a moment of white space to think about the events, and consider a decision that would keep the SecDef informed. Walking in to see him may or may not work, but working through the Military Assistant would.
The SecDef had two Military Assistants, known as Mil Assists, the junior being a Colonel and the senior being a Lieutenant General, and assisted the Secretary with nearly everything he did. From travel to speeches to DOD policies and correspondence, they handled everything for the largest department in the United States Government. Army Lieutenant General Gil Hastings was the current Senior Mil Asst, and worked closely with DIA when he was on a sensitive Special Forces Detachment a few years ago. He’d take the call for sure.
“Jason, cancel my speech, and get me Lieutenant General Hastings on the phone at SecDef’s office. Hey, Martin, we need lights and sirens. We’re canceling the Crystal City Marriott location. Take us to the Pentagon, please.”
Martin, the executive driver, knew the DC roads like the back of his hand. It was no issue to reroute while driving from Crystal City to the Pentagon, especially since they were right next to one another. The drive was no longer than 10 minutes from their current position on the beginning of the 14th Street Bridge, but the DC traffic was, as usual, horrendous. Martin leaned down and threw on the lights in the grill, and the chirps of the siren moved the DC commuters over with a purpose.
“Watch it! Watch it! Driver pulling out!” yelled Jason.
Martin swayed out of the way to avoid the Tesla S darting out to the right. The heavy, black Suburban nearly crushed the $100,000 vehicle. Martin moved in and out of the traffic, weaving to get them to Virginia. The accelerator pushed them into their seats.
“Hello, Gil? Calvin Burns here. Deputy at DIA. I’ve got a current situation that SecDef needs to know about right away. Tier One level, time sensitive. Yeah, happening live right now. USD (I) is away with DIA Director, and it can’t wait.” Calvin Burns bobbed his head up and down. “Yup. Yup. Okay, I’m inbound now with lights and sirens. Ten minutes? I can make that timeslot.” Calvin turned to look at Jason and gave him the thumbs up, and pointed over at the Pentagon, which was in view from their position on the Bridge. “Okay. See you in ten.”
Martin had them soaring across the Potomac River, driving on the right shoulder of I-395 south, and moving the Deputy with determination. Easily passing now at 60 mph with the regular lanes nearly stopped, Martin’s near 30-years of executive driving experience got them there with fortitude.
“How’s that leg, Buddy?” Ford asked, as he listened for the response and scanned the aircraft instruments. “You doing okay?”
“I never…” coughing away from Ford, “I never thought it would end like this, Ford,” Wu said.
Ford looked at his sunken face under his flight helmet and jaundiced skin and eyes, as the pink glow from the sunrise off in the distance started to peek on the horizon. Ford admitted to himself that Wu looked terrible, and felt so badly for him. He also saw that Wu was crying, with his face down toward the floor, wiping the tears from his cheek. Ford extended his hand to Wu’s, and held it.
“I’m here for you, brother,” Ford said, attempting to console his best friend, fighting for his life.
“Thank you. Ford. I wanted to have a family. I wanted them to meet you, and your parents, and your brother and sister. I wanted to grow old and have kids. And bring them to America for rock music like Bruce Springsteen, and eat hot dogs, and watch the Chicago Cubs… and see the Grand Canyon. And watch Furious 7 and Transformers.”
Ford didn’t say anything at first. “I know you did, Wu, I know,” as his voice trailed off softly.
“I had a whole list… a goal sheet of things I wanted to do before I die. You want to… ah, hear a few?” asked Wu, breathing a bit heavier now.