The admiral read the name on his chest patch.
“Plug? Is that your call sign?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What ship were you on?”
“The Farragut, sir.”
The admiral’s wheels were turning. Now he remembered what was significant about this kid. He had been one of Victoria’s pilots.
Plug said, “I served under your daughter, Lieutenant Commander Manning, there. Best boss I’ve ever had, sir.”
Admiral Manning arched an eyebrow and glanced at the commodore.
Plug’s eyes widened in horror. “Commodore… sir, I mean besides you, of course.”
The commodore just shook his head. Plug often got that reaction from senior officers.
The admiral turned forward and continued exercising. He allowed himself a moment of pride in his daughter, and then a moment of worry. Then he put her out of his mind and turned back to the two officers who were interrupting his peaceful Sunday morning workout.
“Plug?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Are you familiar with the term drive-by?”
“Sir?”
“The commodore might not be your favorite boss, but I advise you to learn from his technique. The commodore and his minion — you — are executing what’s known as a drive-by. The term has two meanings. One is used to describe criminal gangs shooting up a house as they drive by in a car. The other is used when a subordinate finds his superior at an unplanned and opportunistic moment with the intent of pitching an idea.”
Plug’s face reddened. The commodore looked amused.
Admiral Manning continued, “Both situations are ambushes. Tactics used to defeat an unprepared opponent.” The admiral looked at the commodore. “Or in this case, an opponent that isn’t present.” The commodore’s smile vanished.
The admiral stopped midcycle and got off the exercise machine. He walked to the front of the bridge and picked up a phone.
“CAG. I apologize for the climb, but we’re having a conversation that you should be a part of. Mind joining us on my bridge? Yes, now. Thanks.” He hung up the phone.
A few moments later, a Navy captain in a flight suit appeared through the door, huffing and puffing from climbing the nine ladderways to this deck.
Admiral Manning gave Plug the floor, and the four men spoke about the surveillance requirements. In the end, the CAG made concessions to provide more of his fighters for dedicated surveillance flights.
“Thank you, CAG. I think this will be a big help. Sooner or later, one of those Chinese fleets is going to reach us. When it happens, we want to find them before they find us.”
An hour later, the admiral had finished working out and showering. He was brought a breakfast of eggs, corned beef hash, and toast, with a pot of coffee dark as night. The admiral read through his unclassified emails. One popped up that especially caught his interest. A drone must have flown over the Farragut, allowing the data transfer.
He read his daughter’s email and grew sad. She was rarely emotional, but it sounded as if the war was taking its toll on her. There was nothing specific in the email. Like everyone in the military, specifics were left out. But Admiral Manning could read between the lines. She had seen combat and suffered loss. She was a changed person. He closed his eyes, praying for her safe passage.
He wrote her back, not knowing if or when she would get the message, but feeling more like a father than he had in a long time.
27
Chase and the prisoners were ferried to Wright Patterson Air Force Base near Dayton via Chinook helicopter and then flown to Eglin AFB in the back of an Air Force C-130. At Eglin, the prisoners were taken into specially made holding cells in a large hangar.
Chase was greeted by his brother just outside of the facility. They embraced and patted each other hard on the back. David looked tired.
“Lindsay here with you?”
“Yeah, we’re in base housing, if you can believe it.”
Chase smiled. “They gonna make you put the uniform back on? They gave me one. No rank insignia, though.”
“Sorry to hear that. I’m sure you still make everyone salute, though. I know how important that was to you.”
“Damn right I do.” Both men knew the opposite was true.
David chuckled. It was good to laugh, considering that the world was falling apart around them.
“You heard from Dad or Victoria?” Chase asked.
“I’ve been monitoring our daily intel reports for their ships or names. Dad should be fine.” David looked around the parking lot of the converted hangar. “Come on inside. We’ll talk there.”
They walked through a double layer of security checks. Chase was struck by how big the hangar was on the inside. Several football fields easy, with a sheet-metal ceiling over one hundred feet high. Rows and rows of what looked like shipping containers were lined up as far as the eye could see.
“Those are the holding cells?”
David said, “Yeah. One for each prisoner. Military interrogators are working round the clock on them.” He waved. “Come on, this way.”
Chase and David continued walking along the central corridor between the shipping containers.
Armed security personnel were escorting prisoners in and out of several of the holding cells. The prisoners wore black cloths over their heads as blindfolds and had their wrists handcuffed behind their backs. The scene was tense, but quiet.
David led his brother into an empty room on the far end of the hangar. Susan and several of the SILVERSMITH personnel were observing one of the interrogations on a nearby monitor. They wore over-the-ear headsets through which English-language translations were being piped in. Susan greeted Chase with a nod, then resumed listening to the interrogation.
David and Chase sat in the back of the room. David whispered, “Like I was saying before, I read the intel reports daily and pay close attention to the Ford and the Farragut. Dad’s strike group has been placed near Midway Island and hasn’t come into contact with Chinese ships since the day the war began.”
“And Victoria?” Chase asked.
David’s face grew dark. “Her ship took hits from Chinese antiship missiles near Guam. They had multiple killed and wounded, although I didn’t see her name on the list.”
Chase turned away, not saying anything.
David said, “I’ve emailed her. Just innocuous stuff, obviously. Just asking how her day was. But I haven’t heard anything back. Which could mean anything at this point. The Navy’s data transfer has shifted from satellite to a network of drones that they’ve got positioned over the Pacific as relays and surveillance. But the Chinese cyberoperations are sophisticated enough that we can’t be sure the information we’re getting hasn’t been tampered with. And the drones that were in the Philippine Sea and around the Mariana Islands have been shot down. So…”
Chase faced his brother. “Where is her ship headed?”
“They’re moving them to join the Ford Strike Group.”
“Are there other carriers over there?”
“One is supposed to leave San Diego in a few days. Another is having maintenance problems and still isn’t underway. The others are — well, not in this part of the world.”
“Yet.”
David shrugged. “That’s above my pay grade.”
The interrogation of the Chinese prisoner ended, and Chase could see on the TV monitor that he was being led out of the room. Susan and the others removed their headsets and turned to Chase.