| Subject: ...For Meritorious Service, Chapter 24b, part three |
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TxJAG_b
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Date Posted: 15:26:41 12/20/07 Thu
In reply to:
TxJAG_b
's message, "...For Meritorious Service" on 09:04:26 05/08/07 Tue
A/N: Okay folks, additional disclaimer time. Though I show USMC Force Recon in what looks like a ‘less than glamorous light’, remember this is work of fiction and Darcy’s Force Recon is nothing like the actual USMC Force Recon. In later chapters you see examples of what real Force Recon are like. One more little detail; Saddam’s regime did have [Boyevaya Mashina Desantnaya – Air Assault Vehicle] BMD personnel carriers, but his fledging airborne force never really got off the ground. Again, I’m mixing fact and fiction here; I doubt these carriers saw any action in 2003.
…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 24b, part three
0358 Local
36th ACE Airfield, Camp Chesty Puller
Near Mirbullah, Iraq
Colonel Clifford Blakely had his gear stowed. The KC-130 actually only made a few visits to Mirbullah each week, and that was usually only to deliver supplies or mail -- Colonel Briggs, though, felt the Military Judge was at least owed a little better than a bumpy helo ride back to Baghdad.
In a way, he would miss Iraq. Any real Marine would. He had to admit that, in that way, he and Commander Rabb were alike – they missed being part of a combat unit. It had been a long time since he had done tours in country, but he had never really lost his taste for it, even though he had on the Mid-Atlantic Judicial Circuit for years.
But, orders were orders and he needed to get back to Falls Church billet as soon as possible. Admiral Morris wanted all the able bodied people he could lay his hands on for the court cases that would result from the al-Qaeda suicide attack.
Besides he had his fill of riding herd on Commander Harmon Rabb, Colonel MacKenzie and the other members of Admiral Chegwidden’s legal/investigative team. He honestly didn’t understand how the Navy/Marine JAG did it….
He wasn’t looking forward though to getting back to JAG Corps Headquarters. The email he had received from Commander Helfman she’d indicated he would be sharing quarters with Captain Sebring for a while. That meant his office had been damaged or destroyed in the attack. Great.
(Oh well, it could be worse….) He and Owen had a pretty good working relationship. And he wasn’t too bad of a guy, even if he was a Swabbie.
“Excuse me, Colonel?”
Clifford Blakely turned to see Commander Sturgis Turner, Lieutenant Bud Roberts and Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie standing as if they were awaiting orders.
“Commander, Colonel, Lieutenant, I hardly expected to see any of you at this hour….”
“We’re early risers, sir,” Bud said. That elicited gentle chuckles from the assembled group.
“We all wanted to see you off, sir.” Colonel MacKenzie added with a hint of admiration in her voice.
He smiled warmly. “Well I’m grateful for that….”
“You pulled us through a stressful situation, Colonel,” Sturgis said trying to clarify their reason for being there.
Blakely knew what he was referring to. “I just did what any senior officer would have done in that situation, Commander, but your sentiment is appreciated.”
“Yes sir.”
Blakely eyed the stone-faced NCIS Special Agent standing over to one side.
Their paths hadn’t crossed that often, but when they did, he found Special Agent Gibbs to be a solid investigator who usually brought in air-tight cases. The one exception being the court martial of Harmon Rabb, Jr. for the death of Lieutenant Singer. Still, he made amends for that by not trusting the evidence found, and following a theory proposed by Rabb’s attorney, Lieutenant Commander Coleman, Gibbs had Agent DiNozzo find out who was the real killer.
He wasn’t sure what Admiral Chegwidden was doing in this particular case by having all of the JAG Corps investigative team play ‘roles’ as characterized in Theodore Lindsey’s infamous report, but then Chegwidden was well known for his unorthodox methods for uncovering the truth in any case.
As he understood the report, Rabb and MacKenzie had a long running ‘under the table’ relationship. Both attorneys, mirrors of Chegwidden, were highly exaggerated by Lindsey’s report, so they played their parts…as did Lieutenant Roberts and Commander Turner. The only exception to this was when JAG Corps Headquarters was attacked.
He came down hard on Lieutenant Roberts at the time, but it was for his own good. He didn’t want to see the Lieutenant’s career take a hit as a result of emotional outbursts and uncontrolled behavior. Still, he understood the man’s sentiments. It would take all his training as Military Judge not to mete out some revenge of his own.
In a weird way, he was essentially now caught up in this dance …and so apparently, were the Special Agents of the NCIS Major Case Response Team, most notably Gibbs. Though he hadn’t actually been a part of this whole ruse cooked up by Admiral Chegwidden, he thought it wouldn’t hurt to give anyone watching some more fuel for the fire. Besides he had to tweak this Special Agent just this once.
“Special Agent, Gibbs, isn’t it?” Blakely said as if trying hard not to remember the senior NCIS Agent. Bud and Sturgis were stoic. Mac almost had to bite her tongue to suppress a smile. She didn’t know Judge Blakely was such a good actor.
“Yes sir, your honor.” Gibbs said respectfully.
“I take it you’re with Colonel MacKenzie,” there was obvious disdain in his voice.
“Yes sir,” Gibbs was the model of respect despite his urge to whip his head around and say to Colonel MacKenzie, ‘did you put him up to this?’
Judge Blakely gave a labored sigh. “Well, at least you show more public decorum than Commander Rabb.”
Mac’s dark brown eyes went wide.
“Yes sir, your honor,” There really wasn’t anything else he could say to that comment.
Then Judge Blakely turned and smiled again at the Colonel. “We miss you up in the judiciary Colonel; hopefully we’ll see you there again when you get back.” Mac blushed at the compliment.
He turned back to the JAG Officers and NCIS Agent. “Gentlemen,”
The JAG officers came to attention. “Colonel,”
Blakely walked out into the cool morning and headed over toward the idling KC-130. A smile creased the lips of the Marine judge. If anyone had asked him about it, he would have answered that he heard a good joke recently.
Judge Blakely got on board the transport and strapped himself in. For once, there was a window next to his seat – through the window he saw Special Agent Gibbs move closer to Colonel MacKenzie.
As the plane began taxiing for take-off, he wondered what would happen next?
*~*
Mac turned to face the NCIS Special Agent. “Yeah, what is it? It’s too early to do this, you know.” Her tone was supposed to indicate she really didn’t want him here.
Her ability to go from zero to bwitch in less than sixty seconds impressed him. Gibbs decided anything she could do, he could do better. “I just wanted to *report* to you that Special Agent in Charge Sedrick Phillips is on his way to Gitmo….” That was a half-truth, but then he couldn’t let Colonel Livingston know all the details.
Mac’s eyes flared for a moment, but then she recovered and a sarcastic smile came to her lips. “What do you want me to do, Special Agent? Pin a medal on you?”
Gibbs didn’t flinch, “I’d like you to appreciate me busting *my hump* catching *your* criminal, Colonel.”
If her disdain was an act, it was a good one. “Y-You weren’t supposed to arrest him,” He thought she was going to add ‘you dope’ in her next breath. But she didn’t.
Instead she began lecturing him. “You were supposed to see who he was tied to--”
Okay time to play the irritated boyfriend. “--So you could come in and clean it up to look good for Colonel Livingston, Colonel?” he interrupted.
She put her hands on her hips, striking an indignant pose. “What do you mean by that crack?”
“You seem to have gotten pretty cozy with the Colonel.”
She talked to him like she was talking to a child. “She asked for legal liaison, Special Agent, although I don’t know why I’m telling you this; it’s really none of your business.”
His face became like stone. “It becomes my business when you *interfere* with my work.”
Mac blew out a frustrated breath and took a quick look around the room. “Why don’t we finish this outside, away from sensitive ears and prying eyes?” She gave Bud and Sturgis a cutting look.
The two Naval Judge Advocates pretended not to notice her glare. Over on the far side of room, a Private who had walked in just before Judge Blakely left seemed to be taking too keen an interest in what was going on. Mac turned back to Gibbs and indicated who was ‘eavesdropping’.
Gibbs gave her that patronizing smile and ducked his head. “As you wish, Colonel.”
The senior NCIS Agent hoped the Private would try to surreptitiously follow them outside, but he guessed that the man would merely move closer to the double doors they were heading for and report what he saw.
The Marine Judge Advocate and the NCIS Agent practically knocked the double doors open as they strode out the building, headed for the tarmac. As Gibbs suspected, the Private moved closer to the doors, but didn’t follow them outside.
Gibbs made sure they were far enough away from the doors to cause the amateur to move closer and peak through the windows at the developing scene
“So what did the Judge mean by that comment?” Gibbs was good at playing the jealous boyfriend – he had seen it enough times in his line of work.
Mac gave him a mirthless chuckle, the kind reserved for stupid, jealous boyfriend questions. “I’ve served on the bench a couple of times when we were short staffed….” She began.
Gibbs walked away from her, shaking his head. “Investigator, Lawyer…and Judge; does that mean you could be a jury too?”
The light Colonel’s anger flared. “What did you just say?”
Gibbs turned back to her, his voice callous. “You heard me, Colonel. I said; you’re interfering with a criminal investigation…my criminal investigation. That is a felony.”
Mac played her wounded indignation for all it was worth. “You’re accusing *me* of interfering with *your* investigation?!”
Special Agent Gibbs maintained his harsh demeanor. “Interfering with a criminal investigation is *exactly* what you are doing. Has anyone else here joined a Force Recon unit in the last day or so?”
“Unbelievable…” she muttered.
Gibbs’ face morphed into that of an angry DI “What did you say!?” he hissed. Mac’s flinch at his change wasn’t all acting.
She then regained her ground and drilled into him with equal DI ferocity. “You heard me, I said ‘unbelievable’! You’re more rigid and unbending than Sturgis Turner, if that’s possible!”
Gibbs gave a smile that would have made her want to smack his face – if she was really mad at him.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Take it any way you want.” She countered.
She began chuckling and shaking her head. “Harm was right about you,” she said spitefully, “You’re more trouble than you’re worth!”
Gibbs laughed quietly, the smile staying on his face. “That’s what my three ex-wives tell me. Are we done here?”
He was good. For a moment, she lost her place. “What?”
His voice turned stern. “I said, are we *done* here?”
Mac thought about the different ways she could respond but decided the best one was to just give him a sullen look. “We’re done.”
Without saying anything else, Gibbs turned on his heel and walked away from her.
Mac noted when Gibbs turned to leave, the Private had disappeared. No doubt to inform Colonel Livingston or Captain Lewis about what had happened.
0500 Local
36th ACE Airfield, Camp Chesty Puller
Near Mirbullah, Iraq
Mac felt like the proverbial little old peddler with her pack. There had to be at least eighty pounds worth of equipment that she was carrying. It seemed like too much to her…she didn’t remember any of her previous jumps involving this much equipment, but then again, she had never jumped for Darcy Livingston before.
She had gotten back to her quarters just minutes before reveille sounded. It was earlier than Livingston had told her it would be, but then she expected that would be the case.
Within minutes of it sounding, Kayce, who she’d left sleeping on the floor, was on her feet and doing a quick scrub down. Mac was right there with her. If Darcy wanted this birddog with her every moment of the day that was fine with her...she could play along with the best of them.
**~~**
“You’ve always been like this ma’am?”
“Ever since boot camp, Corporal.”
“I think I’m really starting to like you, ma’am.”
**~~**
They both trotted down the dirt road to the airfield gate. Assembled around it were several other Marines. A couple of them turned and a Lance Corporal shook his head as if the two Marines approaching were the sorriest sight he had ever seen.
“Well, well, well, if it ain’t Corporal ‘Dead Eye’ Danvers and--”
“--And who, Corporal?” Mac snapped, cutting the man off in mid-comment.
The Lance Corporal stiffened for a moment at the rebuke. But then he began smiling and threw a quick sloppy salute to the light Colonel.
“Begging your pardon, ma’am,” he said with an air of mockery, “the light made it hard to tell who you were,” That comment brought a few snickers from the other assembled Marines.
“Wipe that smile off your face, Corporal!” Mac snarled as her eyes narrowed to slits. Then she turned her fiery gaze on the others. “You Marines think his comment was funny?”
The snickers died away, replaced by sober faces and mumbled ‘no ma’am’s’. Mac noticed out of the corner of her eye that some of the senior NCOs had stopped what they were doing and were watching this incident with interest.
Mac turned to the Staff Sergeant who was standing closest to the chastened Marines. “STAFF SERGEANT!” she bellowed.
It had the intended effect. The Sergeant hustled over to the light Colonel. “Yes ma’am!”
“These Marines seem to have nothing better to do with their time than to run their mouths,” Mac’s voice dripped with contempt. “Are these your Marines, Staff Sergeant?”
“No ma’am!” he retorted with equal scorn as he eyed the embarrassed Marines, “but I’ll take care of them right now--”
Mac held up a hand silencing the Staff Sergeant. She turned to the ringleader. “Lance Corporal, drop and give me 100.”
“Wha?” Bledsoe couldn’t believe what this…this…. He was so angry and humiliated, he couldn’t see straight.
“Make that 200! Now Corporal!! BEFORE I KICK YOUR SORRY BUTT TO THE DECK!!”
DO IT BLEDSOE!! Screamed the Staff Sergeant, “NOW!!”
Lance Corporal Bledsoe, his face screwed up in indignation, dropped to the ground and began doing push-ups in silence.
Mac squatted down next to Bledsoe, a cruel smile on her face. “Have him start again, Staff Sergeant. He isn’t counting!”
“Start again Bledsoe,” the Staff Sergeant said sharply.
The Lance Corporal looked up at the E-6 NCO with a look of disgust on his face. “Oh come on, Sarge--”
“NOW BLEDSOE!!” barked the Staff Sergeant
“ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR…!” the Lance Corporal began yelling as he started again.
Mac shook her head and stood up, grinning wickedly at the Staff Sergeant. “I don’t hear any ‘thousands’, do you, Staff Sergeant?”
“BLEDSOE!!”
All hints of surliness and disrespect were now gone from the Lance Corporal’s voice. “AYE, AYE, STAFF SERGEANT!! ONE ONE THOUSAND! TWO ONE THOUSAND! THREE ONE THOUSAND…!”
As Lance Corporal Bledsoe continued doing push-ups and counting out his cadence, Mac turned back to the little group of now humbled Marines.
“What is this? A fraternity meeting or a Marine Force Recon unit?! STAFF SERGEANT!!”
“FALL IN!” Bellowed the Staff Sergeant. “ON THE DOUBLE!!”
The Marines who had been laughing at the Lance Corporal’s joke were now hurrying to make a line. Kayce started to head over and join the others, but the light Colonel put her hand gently on her arm.
“Stay with me, Danvers.” Mac said quietly.
Danvers didn’t know what to make of this. But the Colonel was in charge, for now. “Aye, aye, ma’am,”
They watched as the Marines formed a line of four abreast. The fire team dressed right, spacing themselves equidistantly apart. Nervous looks flitted through each man’s features as they looked at the Staff Sergeant, Mac and Lance Corporal Danvers.
“I can’t hear you, Lance Corporal….” Mac sang.
“MA’AM! SORRY MA’AM! THIRTY ONE THOUSAND, THIRTY-ONE ONE THOUSAND, THIRTY-TWO ONE THOUSAND….”
Mac turned back to the sorry-looking fire team. “The rest of you give me 100…now.”
The four men dropped to the ground and began their push-ups.
“AYE, AYE, COLONEL! ONE ONE THOUSAND! TWO ONE THOUSAND! THREE ONE THOUSAND--!”
“Don’t let their cadence mess you up, Lance Corporal or you’ll have to start all over again.”
“AYE, AYE, MA’AM! SIXTY ONE THOUSAND, SIXTY-ONE ONE THOUSAND--!”
As Bledsoe and the others continued their push-ups, Mac turned back to the Staff Sergeant. “Thank you for your assistance, Staff Sergeant, please see to it that they finish before we’re ready to take off.”
The Staff Sergeant gave her a knowing smile. He was sure glad they weren’t his fire team. “It’ll be my pleasure, Colonel.”
As Mac turned to head toward the runway, she saw Colonel Livingston approaching.
The Force Recon Lieutenant Colonel chuckled at the sight of the Lance Corporal and the four other Force Recon Marines doing push-ups. “Well, Cher, it’s good to see you so bright and cheery at this hour.”
Mac gave her a gung-ho grin. “What do you mean, Colonel? Isn’t it nearly lunchtime?” Her comment recalled the time she had said something similar years ago to the Force Recon Colonel who was Captain Koonan’s superior that time when Harm went undercover as a Gunnery Sergeant.
Darcy laughed heartily at Mac’s bravado. “Excellent Cher, you will fit in perfectly.” She turned back to the Staff Sergeant. “Have these men report to Colonel MacKenzie when they are done, Staff Sergeant.”
“Aye, aye, Colonel.”
Darcy motioned to Mac, “Come Cher, let us have some chow before we board our plane….”
“I’d like Corporal Danvers to stay with us, if that is all right,”
Darcy laughed again. It was a soft, gentle laugh. “Of course, Cher. Corporal, please do join us, we’re having some cold MRE’s with the rest of my staff before our mission begins this morning….”
“Aye, aye, ma’am.”
*~*
As Mac finished the last of her cold chicken pot pie, the unit’s S-2, or intelligence officer, began passing out the latest intelligence update.
“Overnight, we got word from one of our SEAL teams that our insurgent friends have managed to get one of Saddam’s Soviet-built BMD personnel carriers operational.”
There were a couple of shocked looks and some murmurs. The S-2 held up his hand so he could continue.
“The team wasn’t able to get close enough to see how ‘operational’ this piece of hardware is, but even if it only has rounds for its chaingun, that presents a significant threat.”
As the assembled officers and enlisted men digested that, he handed out a map of the town and some photos of the personnel carrier sitting in what looked like the village square. “The carrier was spotted leaving the village of Amariya just northeast of here. Amariya is known to be sympathetic to the former Baath regime of Saddam Hussein. There are unconfirmed reports that former regime soldiers have been spotted in the low hills near the village.”
“Colonel Briggs has given us the green light to dispatch that BMD. Colonel MacKenzie, you will go with Lieutenant Ebbit’s team and assume the part of Iraqi insurgents to gain access to the village and destroy that BMD.”
The Force Recon Commander nodded to the S-2. “Thanks, Captain,” she looked out at the assembled group. “Well, it looks as if you have your work cut out for you, Colonel MacKenzie.”
If she was waiting for a startled reaction from the light Colonel, none appeared. “Yes Colonel,” the Marine Judge Advocate replied like any good Marine should. Even though they were equals, Mac figured that deference at this point wouldn’t hurt her.
Mac’s response seemed to unsettle Darcy. “Ahem, yes, well you’re going along on this mission, Colonel, because it’s a training mission of sorts. And, with you and Corporal Danvers along, you two can talk to any friendly locals you run into to find out just how operational this thing is.”
“Understood Colonel.” Was Mac’s only response. Kayce wasn’t sure, but she thought that Colonel Livingston seemed somewhat disappointed that Colonel MacKenzie had not said more. It then seemed as though the Force Recon CO dismissed that thought and continued with her part of the briefing for Colonel MacKenzie.
“You’ll be para-dropped in behind the village and make your way to an observation point to confirm the existence of that BMD. Once confirmed, you and Lieutenant Ebbits will make your way overland to the village, destroy the carrier, and return to our lines.”
“You’ll be using our version of Fedayeen transport….”
Mac turned and looked as two elderly looking Dodge pickup trucks, each with a M2HB .50 caliber machine gun in the bed of the truck, were loaded into cargo hold of a KC-130 that was sitting to one side of a hanger.
“It’s amazing what you can find on E-bay these days,” Darcy quipped as she watched the trucks being loaded. That caused some polite chortles to ripple through the assembled group.
Mac wanted to ask why such elaborate measures were being undertaken for such a routine sounding mission, but she figured she’d find that out soon enough.
“Report to Ebbits, Colonel. He’ll fill you in on the rest of the mission,”
“Aye, aye, Colonel.”
As she and Corporal Danvers started to leave the assembly, Darcy walked over to them. “Oh and Colonel? A word?”
She looked at Danvers and then back at Livingston. Mac walked over to where the Force Recon Colonel was waiting away from the assembled group. The S-2 was now speaking again.
Darcy’s voice was friendly, almost casual. “You hit me with accusations of code reds, blanket parties and GI showers. Well Cher, have you seen any?”
Mac tried to act non-plussed. “None so far, Colonel.”
Darcy nodded, smiling. “Not so easily impressed…for a person in such a…precarious position, Colonel, I find that invigorating and intriguing.”
The light Colonel stood her ground. “I’m an officer of the court, Colonel. If you or anyone in your unit was doing anything that could be considered injurious to peoples’ health and welfare, I have a duty as a JAG Corps officer to take action against it.”
Darcy’s smile faded some. “Well Cher, you’ll find that no one engages in that kind of behavior in this unit. If they did, they’d have to answer to me.”
0515 Local
USS Patrick Henry
Harm walked down the crowded corridor toward the Raptors’ squadron ready room. It had been over two years since the aviator/attorney had stepped foot into this room.
As he walked in it was evident that he immediately became the center of attention. A couple of other aviators who had been playing cards stopped their game and looked up at the tall Commander entering the room. Another pilot who had been reading a magazine lowered it and nodded to Harm.
Harm returned their guarded greetings. He noticed that he was the only Reservist who had made it into the ready room so far. As he walked over to the coffee pot, he passed two female aviators sitting under the Velociraptor logo for their squadron, engaged in a game of checkers. The brunette who sat with her back to him was intently studying the board. The other aviator, her golden blond hair tied in a loose pony tail, glanced up at Harm as she waited for her partner to make a move. The nametag on her flight suit read “Hollands”
“C’mon Dust Storm,” she groaned impatiently looking back at the woman across from her, “this is a friendly game of checkers, not a world championship chess match.” Why in the world she had let her RIO talk her into a game of checkers at this hour of morning, she’d never know.
“Give me a minute, will ya?” the brunette grumbled. Then she nodded and proceeded to jump her checker piece across the board until it reached the other side.
“King me, Supergirl” she said glibly.
“I’d like to crown you, that’s what I’d like to do,” growled Hollands.
“Oh don’t be such a sore loser,” Sandy ‘Dust Storm’ Ribkins said obviously close to gloating. “You could have done that if you had just been a little more patient earlier in the game.”
“Yeah and we’d both be twenty years older if I used your strategy….”
That comment elicited a deep chuckle from the tall Commander who had filled his cup and now was walking back toward them.
Both women looked up at Harm. Dust Storm gave him a shy smile. Nicole Hollands, aka Supergirl, wasn’t interested in what this guy had to say about their game. She felt like he was an interloper.
“Can I help you?” she challenged.
“Easy Commander,” Harm said holding up his hands to the young blond Lieutenant Commander, “I couldn’t help but overhear.”
Nicole dropped her defensive stance, realizing she was being rude, especially since the man she was talking to was a more senior office, a full Commander.
“Sorry sir, that was out of line,” she said referring to her initial response to him.
“It’s all right, considering the walloping the Lieutenant just gave you; I probably would have been a little sore myself.”
“You’d think I would have learned by now *not* to play her,” She stuck out her hand. “Lieutenant Commander Nicole Hollands; and this is Lieutenant Sandy Ribkins, my RIO.”
“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Sandy almost gushed as she shook Harm’s hand. Nicole fought the temptation to roll her eyes at her RIO. Sometimes Sandy could be such a girl when it came to meeting a handsome guy.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant, Commander. Commander Harmon Rabb, Junior, I’ve been assigned to your squadron.”
So this was their new squadron commander. Nicole wondered where they got this guy from. “You came in on the COD last night?”
Harm took a sip from his steaming cup. “One of the earlier ones.”
That wasn’t much help. Reserve pilots had been pulled all over the region because of the damage inflicted by this flu bug. This guy could have come from any duty station in the Gulf. She just hoped he wasn’t a nugget or some desk jockey that occasionally got to ferry aircraft from one base to another.
She was about to ask what experience he had, but starry-eyed Sandy beat her to it.
“So are you stationed here in the Gulf?”
The tall naval Commander gave both of them a small smile. “Ah, no, I’m from JAG Corps Headquarters,” Harm said somewhat sheepishly, “I was with a JAGMAN team at Camp Chesty Puller near Mirbullah when I was pulled for some flying duty….”
Great, she thought, we need pilots and they send us a land based Washington weenie…. “So have you flown a Turkey before, Commander?” It was a leading question and a loaded one at that.
“I prefer to call them Tomcats, Commander,” Harm replied in a clipped tone that indicated he really didn’t care for the uncomplimentary nickname.
Her assessment of this tall Naval Commander went up by a few notches with that comment, but in her eyes, he was still a legal weenie. Not something she really cared for that much.
“Hey Commander, there you are.” The ladies looked at the aviator coming up behind Harm. The aviator/attorney turned to see Jeff making his way toward them.
“The CAG’s making his way back here.” Jeff reported
Nicole and Sandy got up from the table, “Time to go earn our pay, sir”
Harm and Jeff followed them up towards the front of the room to a set of leather chairs with fold down writing tables situated in front of a large whiteboard.
*~*
The CAG looked around at the assembled pilots. The last time he’d seen Commander Rabb, he was still holding onto some bitterness about the Commander losing his ‘Cat during a storm off the Atlantic seaboard back in May of 2001. Now here the Commander was back again, this time as the squadron commander of his Raptors.
“Rabb, you and Hollands will patrol the northern quadrant up to rendezvous point Texas. You can expect lots of traffic around the area. The Iranians have been shadowing our flights lately. Nothing serious, it just seems to be more curiosity than anything else.”
Harm looked up from his notes. “They don’t appreciate us playing in what they consider their pond, CAG.”
The CAG gave the assembled aviators a slight smile. “Then, Commander, I expect you to make our intentions clear to them. We are conducting our usual air combat patrols and regular air-to-air training in our designated areas. Warn them off if they get too nosy. Otherwise be diplomatic. You know the routine.”
Harm nodded. “Aye CAG,” He probably understood the gist of that comment better than any of the other aviators assembled here for this briefing. He had been, in times past, in many delicate situations that could escalate into combat if not carefully handled.
“Some of the other Gulf air forces will also visit from time to time while you’re up there. Show them every courtesy, Commander.”
“Aye, aye sir.”
The CAG knew that Harmon Rabb, Junior was probably the best pilot to lead the Raptors at this point. The man was good; there was no doubt of that. And as for losing his plane, he had eventually learned from Captain Ingles that his bird had suffered an electrical malfunction in that storm. And not due to anything that Rabb had done.
Still it was hard for him to forgive the aviator/attorney for losing that Tomcat in 2001 and for subsequently ‘borrowing’ another ‘Cat to get back to Patuxent Naval Air Station back in December 2002.
Sure, he had been carrying Admiral Boone with him, but it still irked the CAG that this wily Commander had snookered one of his best pilots at the time, just so he could get the Admiral back stateside in time for Christmas.
“You have your orders,” the CAG told the assembled aviators. “Now get to it,”
---TBC…
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