“Not quite, sir. One of the ring’s agents has recruited a sixteen-year-old Irish girl to establish a liaison with an American colonel stationed at Headquarters USAFE in Ramstein, Germany. Apparently his duties bring him here quite often.” The man snapped open his briefcase and laid a stack of glossy black-and-white photos on Blevins’ desk. “We did not take these; they did.” The photos chronicled the development of a love affair, the last four prints leaving no doubt about the intimacy of the affair. “Very professional, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes… well, this colonel has been passing classified information to the girl?”
“No. Not yet. We want to leave the girl in place and watch her. However, we want the colonel out of the way. He is in charge of the Inspector General’s Operational Readiness Inspection team, the ORI, I believe you call it, and is really quite small cheese.” The agent did not tell Blevins that MI-5 wanted to feed misinformation through the girl to the Soviets, and for that they needed the girl’s talents to be directed elsewhere. “Really,” the agent concluded, “at this point the affair is quite harmless, other than the girl’s young age, of course.”
“Of course, we shall discipline the colonel and end the affair,” Blevins said.
The agent gave an inward sigh. “Not discipline, that would be unwise. We simply want you to use your offices to tell the colonel to end the affair. If the colonel is, as you say, disciplined, then it will be obvious that we are onto the girl. This must be done discreetly, appear altogether natural.”
“Certainly, of course. We will be glad to cooperate with Her Majesty’s government.”
The agent then handed the general a card with the colonel’s name; then, without shaking hands or saluting, left the office.
The plan did not immediately jell for Blevins. But a chance remark the next day that the 45th was due for an Operational Readiness Inspection set his mental processes to grinding… He told his new secretary to book him a seat on the next plane to Ramstein, preferably that day. He was finally going to teach Waters that his way of running the Air Force was the only way. And, he calculated, do the Air Force a favor in the process. Which, of course, had always been his mission. It was just that some idiots and malcontents didn’t understand…
Doc Landis’ cadence was perfect as he called off the decreasing altitude coming down the chute. The sight picture was also perfect as Doc sang out “Pickle.” Jack instantly flicked the pickle button, releasing a practice bomb onto the target, then honked back on the stick, loading the F-4 with four G’s in two seconds for a smooth pullout. He was looking for the other Phantom when the first blink of the master caution light caught his attention. He promptly broke out of the pattern, checking his warning lights, keyed his radio and told the range controller and wingman about his problem: “Holbeach Range, Toddy Four-One. My Utility Hydraulic System has failed. RTB at this time. Toddy Four-Two, join up and let’s go home.” The range controller and wingman, Toddy Four-Two, acknowledged his call as Jack headed for Stonewood.
The wingy slid into position on Jack’s left side as they passed by Blankeney Point, scanned his underside and told Jack that he could see hydraulic fluid streaming down the belly of the Phantom.
“Roger,” Jack acknowledged, “we’ll take the barrier.” Doc Landis started to read the emergency checklist for hydraulic failure when the low oil pressure light came on for number two engine. Before Jack could shut the engine down the oil pressure had fallen to zero, indicating an internal failure in his right engine.
Landis continued to read the checklist as Jack reviewed each step. “Isn’t this the emergency the flight manual says to consider ejection for?” Landis asked, trying to keep his voice calm; this was no damn appendectomy.
“It is,” Jack answered. “We’ve lost most of our control surfaces. The right wing is dead. It’s easy to run out of lateral control authority. If that happens the only choice we’ve got is to lower the nose and reduce power to recover. That can be hard cheese close to the ground. How do you feel about it? Want to try an approach?”
“One ejection per lifetime is more than enough,” the doctor muttered. “Let’s do it.”
Jack radioed the tower and declared an emergency as he positioned the Phantom to the west of the base for a straight-in approach.
“Toddy Four-One, Tower,” Stonewood tower radioed the wingman. “The DO says to consider ejection. He says he’s got lots of Phantoms, only one you.”
“Tell him thanks but I think that I’ll give this bird back to him.”
Waters had joined Tom Gomez in the DO’s pickup truck and they now followed the crash trucks out to the approach end of the runway, listening to the radio calls on the truck’s UHF radio. They watched in silence as the disabled Phantom intercepted the glide slope and started to descend. “I think I’d rather eject,” Waters said. “But it’s Jack’s decision.”
Gomez nodded, well aware that neither he nor Waters would stay in command if the 45th lost another bird.
As the Phantom passed through two hundred feet they saw it begin to yaw to the right, but Jack brought the nose down and gained enough control to continue the approach. “He won’t have enough altitude to do that again,” Waters said, trying to sound calmer than he felt.
Gradually Jack reduced power to 200 knots, then touched down four hundred feet short of the barrier. The Phantom’s hook caught the cable and snatched the big bird to a halt in the middle of the runway.
Waters grinned. “He makes it look routine. Your boy did good, Tom.”
“Good enough. He survived. Name of the game, I guess.”
Doc Landis’ wife pressed against his shoulder and glanced at the clock on the night stand. He started to caress her. His wife had never stopped being a sex object to him, thank God, and the feeling was mutual. “Doctor Landis,” she murmured, “you better stop that or we won’t get any sleep and you’ve had a rough day… you’re a real goat, you know that?… ”
He ignored her and kissed her neck, causing her breath to come faster.
“Jeff, stop it or I’ll be as pregnant as Sara Waters. No wonder this place has such a booming birthrate, it over-stimulates you men. No more flying for you on Mondays.” And so saying, she returned his kisses, thankful to have her husband safely home, and more than willing to show it.
A team from the Inspector General’s office at Ramstein, Germany, had managed to hit the 45th with a surprise Operational Readiness Inspection, totally disrupting the base. Every one of Chief Pullman’s contacts had fallen through and all the markers he had called in as due had misfired. The entire network of first shirts had let Pullman down. He would even some scores in the future. But in the meantime…
Five staff cars had driven on base and dispersed to predetermined locations, one group to the command post as a simulated terrorist bomb exploded in a maintenance shop, creating a mass-casualty exercise. The inspectors at the hospital, in Maintenance and Security Police, all tight-faced, noted the reaction of the participants, taking endless notes and photographs. The order directing the wing to load its aircraft for wartime missions came at 1:00 P.M. and the wing had to load live ordnance on its F-4s. Munitions safety was of paramount concern for the inspectors as the wing entered into its next major event. The inspectors noted a munitions NCO had to borrow a checklist.
After listening to reports from his team that night, the IG’s team chief, Colonel Peter Gertino, placed a call to Waters, telling the wing commander only that he would like to meet with him. He found Pullman in the office with Waters and Gomez and quickly proceeded to summarize the inspection. “Your Security Police were rated unsatisfactory. The command post was rated unsatisfactory. Your load-out would have been outstanding except for the improper use of checklists; consequently my inspectors rated that event as marginal. The mass-casualty exercise was satisfactory. In sum, not a good beginning, Colonel Waters. Your people can still salvage this inspection, but they are going to have to work for it.” He picked up his notes and left the office.