As part of her conversion, Inchon was given the capability to refuel the sweeps via astern refueling. She could also transport food, mail, medical supplies, and people back and forth between each of the ships.
The mine warfare ships would separate while in the Med to participate in different MCM exercises with other NATO countries. Then all would rendezvous prior to going through the Suez Canal and on to the Arabian Gulf.
Jazz’s stateroom looked much like all of the others aboard Inchon. All of the fixtures were made of gray sheet metal. There was a wall of lockers, drawers, and two built-in desks lining the left side. A sink with a mirror was on the right in the front of the room. One set of bunk beds was in the back right corner. Nicholas climbed into the bottom bunk.
“So this is where you will sleep, Daddy?”
“Yep, that’s where I will sleep.”
Nicholas surveyed the room. He had a look on his face of approval, but his father could also see that he felt the need to be inquisitive.
“And that’s your sink over there?” he said pointing to the sink next to Jazz.
“Yes, this is my sink. I will share this room with one other diver guy. He has the top bunk.”
“Are a lot of diver guys going on this trip?”
“Yes, there will be about twenty divers going.”
Nicholas flipped on the reading light above Jazz’s rack.
“Who is the other diver guy in here?”
“Uh, he’s a man named Jake Duvall.”
Duvall’s detachment, Det Six was stationed in Charleston, so the two encountered each other only a few times before the deployment. Jazz met him when he passed through Charleston before reporting aboard. They got to know each other better during work-ups for the INCTASKGRU deployment. Duvall had been a SWO like Jazz. The Special Operations lateral transfer board picked him up the year before Jazz.
There were nine officers going on the deployment. There was one OIC per detachment. The other two lived next door to Jazz and Duvall. O’Malley and Thicke were both warrant officers. Chief Warrant Officers in Navy EOD are given the moniker “Gunner.” As a result these two were affectionately known as “Gunner O” and “Gunner T.”
Across the hall from Jazz and Duvall lived the Mobile Unit Six Operations Officer and the tactics officer. They would interface with the MCMRON and direct the employment of the detachments. Captain Solarsky had a stateroom forward of the superstructure, closer to the squadron spaces. All of the senior officers onboard had staterooms there.
Nicholas hopped off the bed. He stopped and looked around the room approvingly.
“This is cool.”
“Yeah, I think so too. Do you want to see where they drive the ship from?”
“Yeah!”
The reaction of any visitor was the same. The five year-old could not even see over the helmsmen’s console. He grabbed the helm and moved it back and forth. Jazz looked to the rudder angle indicator. It did not move, the rudders were in local control in aftersteering.
His son said, “Brooom, broooom,” as he pretended to steer the ship. Jazz laughed.
“Is that what the ship sounds like?”
“Uh, huh.”
“Okay.”
Nicholas got the grand tour. Jazz could tell that it helped his son understand what his father was doing. Now Nick would have a visual picture when thinking of his father far away at sea. He knew where Daddy would eat, sleep, and work.
Some wives had to watch the ship pull away from the pier. It provided them with closure. Not until they saw the ship leave could they grasp that their husbands were truly gone. The Jascinskis knew of wives in Norfolk that would watch the ship leave the pier and then race to the Chesapeake Bay-Bridge Tunnel so they could see it once more as it passed to sea.
Melanie preferred the drop-off. She tried to pretend that it was as if one of their cars was in the shop and she had to drive Jazz into work. It helped her to deal with the sorrow.
Jazz’s service dress blues were hot. His mind raced through all the things he wanted to tell Melanie before he left. He wanted to make sure she had all the information she needed to take care of herself and the family while he was gone.
“Hon, don’t forget to…”
“I know, Jazz, whatever it is, I know. We’ve done this before. Now just be quiet so I can drive us without causing an accident.”
The quiver in her voice registered with Jazz. He turned to see his children once more. They all stared blankly ahead, sleepy but not able to sleep. His thoughts turned again on the notion that they would change dramatically over the next six months, especially Abigail.
Closer to the pier, they could see a hundred teary goodbyes now. Men and women, children and parents, held onto one another for a final time trying to make it last. Melanie stopped on the side of the road across from the quay. Jazz got out and opened the sliding door of the mini-van. He reached in and gave each of his kids one more long hug and kiss.
“I love you, Tyler.”
“I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, Nicholas.”
“I love you, Daddy.”
He leaned over to kiss his infant daughter. As he did he heard Melanie sobbing.
“I love you, Abby.”
As he tried to close the door, Tyler reached his hands out.
“Daddy, kiss!”
He leaned over and gave each son one last quick kiss and hug. Now Nicholas was crying.
Jazz closed the door and walked around to the driver side window. Melanie rolled it down. Tears were streaming down her face.
He kissed her and wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you too. Go now before I really lose it.”
Jazz turned on his heel and headed for the ship. He passed several women and children crying and clinging to each other. He saw the backs of many other sailors, walking slowly toward their ship.
Against his better judgment, the young husband and father turned to look at his family one more time. The van had not moved an inch. Melanie was looking at him. Her body shook as she sobbed uncontrollably. His two sons cried hysterically, not fully understanding why but sharing instinctively the sadness that their mother emanated.
Jazz turned again and walked toward the brow of USS Inchon. This time he did not look back.
TWENTY-FIVE
“Echo One, this is Echo Two. We have your floor secure. We’re beginning to clear those above and below you.”
“Copy, Two,” Jazz answered.
Jazz loosened his tie as he bent over to study the device. There was a small opening on the top. He turned on his flashlight and tried to see what was inside without touching it.
A noise in the other room startled him. He stood and walked toward the door. Jazz heard the noise again. He was shocked by what he saw as he entered the room.
“Special Agent Cruz.”
“Hello, Jazz,” she purred.
Elena looked stunning. She was wearing a fitting black dress, black silk stockings, and heels. Jazz’s eyes wandered from her face, through her cleavage, to her shapely legs.
Elena smiled at him as she bent over, hiked up her dress, and removed a holstered pistol from her garter.
“Uh, Elena… you need to get out of here. There’s a suspect package.”
Now she pulled a pin from her hair, allowing shiny black tresses to cascade down. She bit her tongue, smirking at him playfully.
“Elena…”
She reached behind her back and pulled, untying her dress. She tugged on it slightly and it fell to the floor. Elena Cruz was now standing in front of him clad only in stilettos and thigh highs. That’s when Jazz realized that she had placed the suspect package in the next room.