Frank Welles would greet David with all the respect due a flag officer from a junior officer. The sea was in his blood and, since his divorce, had become his life. Once senior to David Charles, they had first met on the Bagley, and David Had remained as close a friend as Welles ever had or probably ever allowed. His talent was immense, and his devotion to duty was almost devout. But his one limitation seemed to be working closely with other people. While he got along well enough with the enlisted men, he would never have the leadership qualities of Admiral Charles, that special something that cannot be taught. It was for that reason that David had been jumped over his peers since his days in Vietnam. Yet it was that devotion to duty that allowed Frank Welles to accept the situation, and keep his minor failings within himself. Welles's appearance, as usual, was exemplary. He radiated confidence in his uniform. His sharp features and slightly graying temples beneath the gold-encrusted visor presented a leader of uncertain age in command.
Admiral David Charles's right hand snapped a salute to the flag, as the sailors in the quickly prepared honor guard piped him aboard. His hand dropped partway from his visor before returning again to acknowledge the welcoming salute from Welles. As Charles was about to greet them, the ship's speaker echoed, "Task Force Fifty-eight arriving."
Noting quickly over his shoulder that the Admiral's pennant had been hoisted, Welles extended his hand. "Welcome aboard, Admiral. We're sure happy to have you back with us." His smile was warm, though his eyes were as expressionless as David remembered them. Welles was as professional a naval officer as there was, but his personality was still hidden, David noted. He had been aboard Bagley for two years when David reported to that first ship, fresh from Annapolis. Now, David Charles was not only senior to him, but the Task Force Commander.
"Thank you, Frank. It's good to stretch our legs again after life in those little fellows." California was half the length of the carrier, but to them the escorts would always be referred to that way. "And thanks for piping me aboard. It's nice to hear the 'Task Force Fifty-eight' associated with his name again." When David had received his orders, he had immediately contacted Sam Carter in Washington, asking if they could carry that designation aboard the great carrier named after the Pacific Fleet Commander. It had been approved not only to Honor Fleet Admiral Nimitz, but to cause that much more confusion for the Russians, who wanted a reason for every odd American move.
Welles stepped quietly to David's side as he finished shaking hands with the other senior officers. "We have a report of a flight of Backfires heading this way from Mogadishu. They've been in the air for about an hour already. I've taken the liberty of reorienting the Aegis ships to the west, though it'll be better if we change course that way also."
"No, Frank, let's not give Kupinsky that advantage right now. You've already done the right thing. We'll let the aircraft come right up from the rear. We can still tell exactly what they're going to do." He turned just before entering the superstructure to look at some fighters near the stern, their pilots watching him from their cockpits. "Have you scrambled any Tomcats yet?"
"No, sir. Been waiting for you."
"Send 'em out. Have them keep their distance until they receive orders from us." He waved to the pilots, then turned to his operations officer. "Bill, get on up to flag plot and set GQ for the force. You can get on the pipe and tell them what's happening. I'll be up in a few minutes."
David Charles's office, next to flag plot, was large and comfortable, as it should have been for an admiral of his position. He and Bill Dailey were seated at a typically green-felt-covered table, scattered with papers. His steward had just brought them iced tea, and David leaned back in his chair. "So Alex is farther away than I would have thought."
"Not so far really, Admiral," Dailey answered. "We've been steaming toward each other the last few hours at about twenty knots. That's forty knots an hour, nine hundred sixty miles if they hadn't slowed for replenishment."
"He's very careful, Bill, very careful."
"Pardon me, sir?"
"Oh, just a comment on life, Bill. Alex is very careful. He'll never allow himself to get caught with his pants down again. He learns well, and once was enough."
"I'm afraid I don't follow you, sir."
"Oh, it's nothing really, Bill. An old war story that's probably improved with age. But you should always remember those stories, too." He raised his eyebrows. "Not so long ago, the Russian Navy lacked the service force they have today. They tried to be a blue-water navy long before they should have, and we spanked them for it, or President Kennedy did. Alex was there, and his stepfather was running the Soviet Navy even then. Alex says he has always reminded the old man about that since he was a lieutenant. They used to fight about it. But Alex insisted ' that Gorenko couldn't ever achieve supremacy at sea until he could back up all those fancy warships they were building. That's one reason that service force of theirs set sail the other day from India and is hovering east of the Maldives. Gorenko ensured that any task force of his anywhere in the world could replenish whenever needed, and Alex is so damn paranoid about that that he'll have every damn ship topped off with everything he can think of." He looked again at Dailey and smiled. "He doesn't want to get caught with his pants down this time."
"When you said he was an old friend, I didn't realize you'd actually met Admiral Kupinsky before, sir."
"Met? Hell, yes. I'll say I have, both formally and informally." He shut his eyes for a moment, stroking his nose with a thumb and forefinger. He remained quiet for a moment. He finally looked up at Dailey again, a saddened reflection in his eyes. "Yes, I certainly do know him. He's a very fine man." He stood up, finishing the iced tea as he stepped back from the table. "Come on, Bill, it's time."
"You're sure these Backfires are going to fire at us, aren't you, sir?"
"I don't know why not. They're controlled from the Kremlin, not from Kupinsky's group. Those ships coming toward us are a show of force, just like we are. Their orders come from Moscow, but the decision at a given instant to use weapons will be from the force commander. But these planes are probably in direct voice contact with Gorenko's staff right now."
"Use of weapons would be a direct provocation to war."
"It would be any time, but less so out here, Bill. There are no land masses to be concerned with, no civilians to worry about, no one's territory invaded. We're just two military forces up to no good as far as the people in Washington or Moscow are concerned. It's our job to be here and take our chances. Right?" He continued without waking for an answer. "The Chairman's speech makes it quite clear that the United States has already engaged in an act of war, and therefore stronger methods than usual are justified to warn us off. Now the U.N. or just about any other country is going to figure it serves both Russia or the U.S. right if we start shooting at each other's military forces as a warning. But, no one expects war. It's just that some bully drew a line across a point on the playground and said, 'Don't anyone cross it or I'll beat you up.' So now we've crossed it, and I think they probably want to make us go back to the other side. They've already announced that certain actions may be justifiable. And, after all, remember they say they're defending the Third World nations out here. What more do they need?" He nodded toward flag plot.
The Russian AS-7 cruise missile, launched from a Backfire bomber, has a range of almost five hundred miles. Its advantage is simply that it can be launched at a surface target, preferably a carrier, beyond the range of most of the carrier's flight umbrella. Then, it becomes the job of the protective surface screen around the carrier to stop the missile. The Backfire may then turn for its land base, avoiding the opposition's fighters completely.