After much wrestling with MS Word, I think I finally
found a way to convert to text. (Gawd, I hate MS products.)
Anyway, I'm trying something different. I think some of
my problems with finding the energy to write has been that
I've tried to write sections that were too big. I tended to lose
interest in the stories when each grew beyond 100 printed pages.
'Robotech' is copyrighted by Harmony Gold USA, Inc. /
Tatsunoko Production Co.,Ltd. The copyrighted characters,
environments, technology, and vehicles have been used only
with all the love and respect I can offer to their original
creators.
The story and original characters are copyrighted by G.L. Sandborn
and are for the enjoyment of the readers only.
This story is not to be posted on any other Internet web site
without permission of the copyright holder.
All previous versions can be found at:
Web: http://home.kc.rr.com/sandborn
FOX Squadron
Episode 11 First Mission, Part 1
by G.L. Sandborn
Jeff kissed his wife at the door, enduring one last
inspection, before heading to his office on the first floor. He
planned on checking to make sure everyone was at their posts
before stopping down at the Mess Hall to see what sort of cooks
they had acquired.
Passing through his outer office, he gratefully accepted a
steaming cup of coffee from his new secretary, Maggie. He could
see on his desk a small stack of reports all ready for his
signature. Taking a sip, he nodded his approval.
"You make this?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," Maggie replied with wide innocent eyes. "Is it
okay?"
"Very good. Nice job." He added a smile.
Maggie giggled like a little girl, bouncing lightly on her
heels. In that posture, she actually looked like a little girl.
"I know the enlistment papers say you're sixteen but just
how old are you really?" Jeff asked before taking another sip of
his coffee.
The girl's smile faded and she lowered her head. "I'll be
fifteen in three months."
Jeff leaned over to look into the Admin Office. He could
see Cindy watching her prize pupil carefully. He wasn't all that
keen on taking children for office staff in the first place but
having a fourteen year-old running his office left him feeling
particularly uncomfortable. She belonged in a junior high school
somewhere doing homework and worrying about what boys liked her,
not running the office of an RDF squadron commander. Trying to
hide his apprehension, he turned again to his young secretary.
She looked like she needed some encouragement.
"Well, I'm sure you'll do a good job. Just listen to
Lieutenant Wallace and everything will work out." He resisted
the impulse to pat the girl on her head. "I'll be down in
Communications, then Operations, Maintenance, Intel, and finally
the Mess Hall if you need me."
He could see the girl trying to remember it all, her cute
little face screwing itself into a worried series of contortions.
"That was... uh,... Could you go over that again?" she asked.
"Why don't you write it down?" he suggested.
Pulling out her note pad, she started to write, then stopped
with a quizzical expression. "How do you spell
'communications'?"
The girl was just getting to her second 'm' when the phone
rang. She froze and stared at it like it was going to explode.
"Maybe one of us should answer that," Jeff suggested, hoping
the girl would take the hint.
Instead of answering, she nodded and frowned at the ringing
phone.
By the fifth or sixth ring, Jeff sighed. "I guess since no
one else is going to get that, why don't you answer the phone?"
"Okay," she chirped. Picking up the receiver, she swallowed
hard and said: "Colonel Stuart's office, Private Kopinsky
speaking."
Jeff smiled when she looked his way as if to check his
approval. Megan wiggled happily in her chair and listened to the
caller.
"Okay, I'll ask," she said, covering the phone's mouthpiece
with her tiny hand. "It's Jerry - I mean Private Hughes at the
main gate. He says there's a man here to see you."
"Did he get a name?"
Maggie blinked. "Oh, I forgot to ask."
It took a few moments, between Maggie's giggles at what the
private was saying, before she had the answer. The man asking to
get in was none other than William 'Bill' Kidd.
"Have him escorted in. I'll be in my office." Jeff sighed
as he turned away. So much for breakfast.
Settling into his chair, he was only partially surprised to
see Cindy standing across from his desk. Not only could she
apparently read minds, she was sneaky-quiet as well.
"There's a transport on its way in, Sir. VIP all the way.
We also received a Top Secret communiqu� by hyper-secure channel
about ten minutes ago." She handed him a tiny disk containing
the encrypted message.
Nodding, he set the disk aside. "Anything else?"
Cindy glanced back at Maggie's desk before leaning closer as
if to keep their conversation private. "She'll do better, Sir.
I just need to work with her some more."
"I'm sure she'll do fine. She's young and inexperienced. I
expect that. A month or so from now, she'll be a veteran," he
said, more to reassure himself than his Admin Officer.
"Thank you, Sir," she replied with a relieved salute before
turning to leave.
Using a key he wore on a chain around his neck, he unlocked
the top left drawer of his desk and flipped open the display on a
foot square flat box. Inserting the disk he got from Cindy, he
placed his thumb on the reader and watched a series of numbers
appear on the tiny screen. Entering his own code, he pressed the
'decode' button and waited.
Moments later, the message appeared. He grimaced at what he
was reading. They couldn't be serious. This wasn't what his
people were trained for.
"Colonel? Mr. Kidd is here," came Maggie's voice from the
doorway.
With a sigh, he pressed the clear button and watched the
little disk dissolve before closing the decoder. All this
obviously had to do with the currently inbound transport and its
passenger but it would have to wait. He had more pressing
matters to attend to.
"Have him wait a moment. Offer him some coffee or
something. Find Captain Fox and Major Baker and have them report
to me," he said.
"Yes, sir."
Jeff swiveled his chair around to look out towards the
tarmac. Letting out a deep sigh, he stared at the Veritechs
lined up outside. The orders he received this morning in the
top-secret message was bad enough but now he had to deal
unexpectedly with Mr. Kidd. Despite his intentions of meeting
with the local power broker, he wasn't ready for it this morning.
He had bigger fish to fry.
"You sent for us, sir?" Katherine's voice came from behind.
"We've got a visitor. A Mr. Kidd has decided to pay us a
little visit this morning." Jeff swiveled around to look at his
two officers. "Any ideas why?"
"Well, might have something to do with what happened last
night." Bobbi Jo yawned and plopped down on the sofa. "I
suspect he's here to see what your reaction is."
"You mean he's here to see if we put the town off limits,"
Jeff added.
"Possibly," Bobbi Jo admitted. "It could just be a courtesy
call."
"Damn strange time for it."
"Last night's incident might just be a coincidence. After
all, he doesn't control the GMP."
"Yes, but does the GMP control him." Jeff turned enough in
his chair to regard the pensive Katherine still standing just
inside the closed door. "What's your take on this, Captain?"
Clearing her throat, Katherine leaned against the doorframe
and crossed her ankles. "Well, I agree his visit is suspiciously
timed. However, it is not unusual for the mayor of a local town
to visit the base to meet the new RDF commander. Small towns
thrive around RDF bases and I suspect Osage City is no
different."
"Noted," Jeff said, looking again out the window. "Is there
anything I should know that I don't already know before we meet
this person?"
"Just a word of warning," Bobbi Jo said, shifting her
position on the couch. "He's not to be trusted. Whatever he
says, I would verify before believing."
"Good advice. Anything else?"
"I would consider this a recon mission," Bobbi Jo said. Her
eyes burned with interest in what was to come. "He's probably
also here to find out what sort of man he will have to deal
with."
Jeff swiveled around to face the door again. "Let's hope I
don't disappoint him. What do you say we meet this former
handyman turned mayor?"
He buzzed Maggie on the intercom and a few moments later,
she escorted their guest into the office. He was everything Jeff
expected. Short, barely five and a half feet tall, and built
like a barrel with legs. William Kidd's face looked like it had
seen more than his share of alley fights, his nose slightly
flattened and bent. Two dark eyes peeked out from under what
looked like a single bushy eyebrow. When the man smiled,
numerous teeth were missing. The ones that remained had an odd
green tint. Approaching Jeff, the man held out a hand that
resembled a bear paw, huge and hairy.
"I'm very pleased to meet you, Colonel," Mr. Kidd said. "I
hope this isn't a bad time."
Jeff shook the man's hand. Kidd had a grip that could dent
a Veritech wing. "Not at all. I'm sorry we won't be able to
spend much time this morning. We're kind of busy around here."
"Oh, I understand completely." Mr. Kidd continued to smile
like a burglar casing his next target. "I'm certain the RDF has
much more important things to do than to entertain the humble
mayor of a small town."
Jeff nodded and returned the man's smile, in a more
noncommittal way, before introducing Katherine and Bobbi Jo.
Naturally, the redheaded Intelligence Officer gushed over their
visitor, sizing him up without having to ask too many questions.
Once everyone was seated, Mr. Kidd looked around the room.
"I always wondered what the inside of this place looked
like," he said like a perspective buyer. "Mighty fancy."
"We like it," Jeff said, rocking back in his seat. The man
had obviously not had a bath in a few weeks.
"Anyway, I just want to take this opportunity to welcome you
to our little community and hope you and your base personnel will
not hesitate to avail yourselves of the services our town
offers," Mr. Kidd said with an almost sincere expression.
"Well, after what happened last night, I'm of two minds
about your little town," Jeff said, watching for any reaction
from his guest that might suggest he knew more than he was
letting on.
"I want to assure you, Colonel, that my people had nothing
to do with that." Mr. Kidd slid a little forward on his chair.
"I was as shocked as anyone to discover the GMP in my town."
"No doubt," Jeff said, his smile shrinking to an almost
satisfied expression.
"One of my night patrolmen arrived on the scene just moments
after your people left in their rovers. The very idea that men
sworn to protect the new United World Government would accost a
woman in such a way makes me embarrassed to clam membership in
such a noble organization," Mr. Kidd said, his hands gesturing
wildly as he talked. "You will be pleased to know that we
captured all five of them."
"That's good work, Mr. Kidd," Bobbi Jo noted like she was
impressed. "I wonder if it would be possible for me to see
them."
"Ah, I wish it were so." Mr. Kidd shook his head like he
actually regretted what he had to say. "Their commanding officer
bailed them out at first light."
"Odd, I don't recall a GMP transport passing through this
base." Jeff frowned at the man, hoping he could back him into a
corner.
"Their craft - a most advanced vehicle, I must admit -
landed in a field just outside of town. I believe they were part
of an intelligence gathering exercise down along the Arkansas
Protectorate border. They weren't even supposed to be in our
town."
Jeff could see a thin trickle of sweat roll down the man's
face. He was either very warm in their air-conditioned room or
lying through his teeth.
"That certainly explains their interest in Captain Parino,"
Bobbi Jo noted with a wry smile. "Perhaps they were just looking
for a good time and she appeared willing."
"Uh... yes. Of course."
"And naturally nobody from the bar led them to the Captain."
Kidd's expression of slight panic only lasted a heartbeat
before he shook his head and forced a soft chuckle. "Now
Colonel, Osage City is full of transients. I can't be
responsible for everyone passing through. Naturally, if one
proves to be a troublemaker, we deal with him. You can check our
arrest records. We've detained and deported twenty transients
this month alone. It's worse in the winter when they're looking
for someplace warm to stay."
"So you have no objections to Zentraedi in your town," Jeff
said.
"Or natives," Katherine added.
"Injuns?" Kidd asked with raised eyebrows. "We don't get
many of those around here. I hear most of them live out in Oakie
lands."
"A good number live right here on this base." Jeff leaned
forward until his elbows rested on his desk.
Mr. Kidd glanced between the others before frowning down at
the floor. "We are a small town, Colonel. Most folks here
abouts don't know from Zentraedi or Injuns. I imagine you'll
find a few folks just about everywhere that don't like one or the
other."
"I believe the question was, would the people of this base
be safe in Osage City?" Jeff asked like he was inquiring about
the number of ice cream shops.
Mr. Kidd looked up suddenly. "Absolutely. I give you my
word."
"Well, I'm convinced," Bobbi Jo chirped in an almost comical
manner. It sounded to Jeff like she was being more sarcastic
than sincere.
Katherine just hummed her acceptance and added a nod. There
were times, despite her RDF training and living most of her adult
life in the white man's world, she could be as introspective and
hard to read as any among her people.
"That's good to hear," Jeff said, his smile growing. "After
the stories we got from the Destroid troop across the way, I was
worried there might be some sort of on-going problem in your
town."
At the mention of the Destroid troop, Mr. Kidd seemed to
come alive, once again gesturing wildly as he talked. "I can
explain that incident, Colonel. The trooper was arrested while
drunk and disorderly. When he resisted arrest, a patrolman we
had hired only a couple of weeks before took matters into his own
hands. Neither I, nor the local police department, condone the
use of unnecessary force. The beating that poor trooper received
was totally unnecessary and inexcusable. I might note here,
Colonel, that it was members of the Osage City Police that
rescued the trooper and probably saved his life."
"I see," Jeff said, hoping his skepticism didn't show.
"The perpetrator of that beating was summarily dismissed and
told to leave town the next morning." Mr. Kidd slumped back in
his chair like he had successfully absolved the whole town of any
responsibility.
"No charges against the patrolman?" Katherine gasped.
"I don't hire thugs, Captain," Mr. Kidd said with a scowl.
"And I don't tolerate people who work for the city to act like
thugs. Yes, we probably should have held the man for assault and
battery but would have made the incident more public than it
already was."
"Good thing it was just some poor slob from the base," Bobbi
Jo added, her expression darkening.
"You don't understand." Mr. Kidd's hands slapped his knees
in resignation. "The people of Osage City depend on their Police
Department to maintain order. That requires a degree of trust on
both sides. His actions resulted in damage to that trust. The
fastest way I could see to restore it was to get rid of the man
as quickly as possible." Mr. Kidd turned to Jeff, pleading his
case. "Don't you see? A public trial, airing our hiring mistake
would have made the citizens question all the other police
officers. I can't have that. It would totally destroy the
mutual trust we have for each other. The town would have
descended into an armed camp; the police on one side and the
townspeople on the other."
Jeff rocked back in his seat again. "I don't approve of
your methods but in all fairness, that's none of my business. I
just don't want a repeat of what happened to the trooper."
"It won't happen again," Mr. Kidd said in a reassuring
manner. "I trust the patrolmen I now have and can assure you
that such incidents won't happen again."
"Good. Then we understand one another," Jeff said, getting
to his feet.
"Absolutely, Colonel." Mr. Kidd stood up and extended his
hand. "I hope this little chat has cleared up any
misunderstandings that might have existed. We certainly welcome
your people in town - Zentraedi or... otherwise. It's just good
for business."
The two shook hands with satisfied smiles. "I think we can
extend the open city policy here - for now," Jeff said, looking
down at the shorter man. "Feel free to stop by anytime, Mr.
Kidd."
"Thank you, Colonel. Perhaps next time you will favor me
with a visit," Mr. Kidd said, his expression becoming almost like
he was issuing a challenge.
"Perhaps."
Watching Mr. Kidd waddle through the Colonel's outer office,
Bobbi Jo crossed her arms and rocked her weight over onto one
leg. "So, what do you think of our resident power broker,
Captain?"
Katherine frowned at the outer office. "I've seen better
things come out of the backside of a horse."
"Still, he's the most powerful man in the region. Kinda
makes a girl think," Bobbi Jo chided.
"Think about what?"
"It might be a profitable thing to hook up with such a man."
Bobbi Jo cast a sly look Katherine's way. The Captain, however,
was having none of it.
"Not my type."
"He's rich."
Katherine finally regarded Bobbi Jo with an ill expression.
"Money does not alter the level of disgust I feel when looking at
him."
Jeff cleared his throat in a manner that suggested he
thought the discussion had gone on long enough. "If you two are
through at the meat market, we have other matters to attend to."
"Like?" Bobbi Jo prompted, looking over her shoulder at the
Colonel.
"Like that transport taxiing in," Jeff replied, indicating a
small executive-style jet transport just turning onto the parking
tarmac.
Both women turned to examine the jet with serious
expressions.
"Mitsubishi 4000, crew of two, can carry up to six
passengers," Bobbi Jo said.
"Standard basic RDF white paint job, has a 6,000 mile range
and can cruise at 350 miles-per-hour," Katherine added.
"Either of you notice anything unusual about it?" Jeff
asked.
Katherine was the first to respond. "Now that you mention
it, I don't see any identification numbers."
"Just a single..." Bobbi Jo paused and squinted at the jet.
"An old United Nations flag on its tail. Now THAT's weird."
"That makes it a...?" he prompted.
"Diplomatic flight," Bobbi Jo responded with a hint of
disgust in her voice.
"Obviously someone who wants to distance himself or herself
from the current World Government while still representing it."
Jeff watched the jet jerk to a halt in front of the north hangar,
far enough out to make a statement about its relationship to
those craft housed at the base. His distrust at the purpose of
this mission mutated into an instant dislike for whomever was
leading it.
"What's this all about, Colonel?" Katherine asked.
Shaking his head, he leaned back in his seat. "Don't really
know. Got a message this morning about a VIP arriving. All it
said was you and I were to be present and to cooperate fully."
"Not much to go on," Bobbi Jo noted. She tilted her head
slightly when the aircraft's boarding door opened.
Jeff agreed, his eyes locked on the open aircraft cabin
door. First, two young men in civilian dress clothes exited the
craft and milled about near the wing, stretching and yawning.
Nothing unusual there. Flying in such a small transport craft
had a confining effect on just about everyone.
The last to deplane caused Jeff to sit up. The visiting VIP
was obviously a woman. Dressed in business attire, she adjusted
her sunglasses and started for the Command Center's door.
Jeff watched her until she entered the building. Her
aggressive strides and indifferent expression suggested Ozark
Base was not where she wanted to be.
Moments later, a nervous Maggie announced their visitor
before scampering back to the relative safety of her desk, her
eyes never leaving the mysterious woman.
Before Jeff could say anything, the woman raised a hand
while her eyes swept the room. "I am Ambassador Simone Lemieux
representing the United World Government," she said in a voice
tinged with an old world accent. I trust you are Colonel Jeffrey
Lawrence?"
"Welcome to Ozark Base, Ambassador Lemieux," he answered
before indicating his two fellow officers. "This is --"
"Captain Katherine Fox," she finished with a perfunctory
smile towards Katherine. Turning her eyes towards Bobbi Jo, she
frowned. "I asked that only yourself and Captain Fox be
present."
"Captain Baker is this squadron's Intelligence Officer. I
have no secrets from her." Jeff almost grimaced at the
forcefulness of his reply.
"Indeed," Simone said, eyeing Bobbi Jo like a peasant.
"She's most knowledgeable about the region and its
inhabitants," Jeff offered, not certain if it had anything to do
with the Ambassador's mission or not.
The two women surveyed each other as two opponents would
before a fight. Jeff prayed Bobbi Jo would demonstrate her
training more than her instincts.
With a sigh of resignation, Ambassador Lemieux leveled a
hard expression Jeff's way. "Captain, please close the door."
Katherine and Bobbi Jo exchanged looks as if trying to
figure out which Captain she was talking to. Bobbi Jo finally
broke the impasse by rolling her eyes and doing the task.
"I trust this room is free of listening devices," the
Ambassador said dropping her small valise on Jeff's desk.
"The room is sterile," Bobbi Jo replied in a low voice.
Jeff could see her distrust as she scowled at the back of the
Ambassador's head.
"Fine." Opening her valise, the Ambassador removed a plain
folder before regarding Jeff with an expression that suggested
she was a woman used to people obeying her every command. "What
is said in this room is not to go beyond these walls."
"What ever it is, I'm sure will not be repeated," Jeff said,
crossing his arms and leaning back against the windowsill. There
was something about this woman that bothered him. She seemed too
sure of herself and too suspicious of people he had come to
trust.
"Colonel, do you know how many micronization chambers the
Zentraedi have in the Arkansas Protectorate?" the Ambassador
asked like a schoolteacher giving an exam.
"One. Located outside of Little Rock."
"There used to be only one. Now there are two."
Jeff heard Katherine gasp. "Where did they get the second?"
"From us," the Ambassador replied as if it were common
knowledge.
"Forgive me for saying so but have you people lost your
minds? Do you have any idea how the Barony of York, not to
mention the United Confederate States will react when they find
out?"
"Colonel, the numbers of Zentraedi in the Protectorate are
growing every day. Refugees from all over the Western Hemisphere
are flowing into the zone in unprecedented numbers." Ambassador
Lemieux cocked her head slightly as if waiting for some reaction.
When Jeff only drew a deep breath and said nothing, she pressed
on. "It takes thirty minutes to micronize a full-sized
Zentraedi. The chamber can only operate two, maybe three hours
at a time before it must be left for twelve hours to recharge.
That means one chamber can only micronize twelve Zentraedi a
day."
"Okay, so they have a little backlog down at the shrink-wrap
department? Considering what little they have to do in the
Protectorate, I can't see how that is a problem," Jeff said,
beginning to feel annoyed at both the Ambassador and the UWG.
"I don't think you fully understand their position," the
Ambassador said in a condescending tone. "Their food situation
is precarious under the best of conditions. Micronized, they
have sufficient to feed themselves and all the new arrivals."
"So giving them a second chamber allows them to micronize
enough people to keep them docile," Jeff noted, still not pleased
with the news.
"Precisely. And, since the majority of the new arrivals are
from the lands to the east, the second is located just ten miles
from the New Madrid Falls."
Jeff couldn't help his jaw dropping slightly. The New
Madrid Falls was on the old Mississippi River. Under the
Zentraedi 'Rain of Death' bombardment, a well-known fault line in
the area broke loose and a section of land was pushed up almost
fifty feet. The result was what people called Lake Madrid,
terminating at a spectacular horseshoe-shaped waterfall. In more
peaceful times, it would have become a new tourist attraction.
Under their current conditions, it was little more than a
curiosity that marked the boundary of the Barony, the UCS, the
Protectorate and lands of the United World Government. In terms
of military maneuvering, it was one of the hottest sections of
land in the world.
"Did it ever occur to any of you that such location might be
objectionable to certain concerned parties?" Jeff finally asked.
"There have been official protests lodged," the Ambassador
admitted. "And we have been in constant contact with all three
governments."
"I can just imagine," Jeff said sarcastically. He knew that
the Zentraedi leader, Commander Bokon, did not suffer fools
gladly and allowing him to dangle such a prize in front of the
highly excitable Yorkies and their sometime-allies, the Grays,
was just asking for trouble.
"We have been asked to mediate a conference where all
aspects of this issue will be discussed and, with any luck,
resolved," the Ambassador said as if she had no doubt of her
success.
"Good for you," Jeff said, standing up with a sigh. "So,
you want us to refuel your runabout out there and wave bon voyage
from the tarmac?"
"No, Colonel," the Ambassador said icily. "Each delegation
is allowed to bring two escorts to the conference."
Jeff looked over his shoulder at the two young men lounging
next to the transport. "Looks like you picked well enough."
"They are my assistants." Ambassador Lemieux's demeanor
grew colder. "I was referring to a pair of military escorts."
As their eyes locked, Jeff could feel a battle of wills
developing. He had a bad feeling about where this was going.
"I don't have two pilots I can spare," he said as if the
issue was closed.
"Colonel, you were ordered to cooperate fully with me in
this mission. Therefore, you are to take orders from me. I will
not stand for your flippant attitude endangering this mission.
The peace of the entire sector hangs in the balance."
Crossing his arms, Jeff glared back at the Ambassador. "I
am cooperating as much as my position as commander of this
squadron will allow. Don't push it," he warned.
For a moment, it appeared as if the Ambassador was willing
to relent. Opening the folder she still held, she pulled out a
sheet of paper that Jeff could see bore an RDF letterhead.
"I have already picked the pilots that will accompany me."
She dropped the sheet on Jeff's desk and picked up her valise.
"I expect these two pilots will be properly attired and ready to
leave within the hour," she snapped.
With a snort, Jeff snatched up the paper and scanned it for
the pilots she was demanding. When he read them, he could barely
control himself. "This is insane!"
"Nevertheless, those are your orders and I expect you will
comply, Colonel," the Ambassador said icily. "We leave in an
hour." She turned and started for the door.
"There is no way I am leaving this squadron leaderless," he
growled. "It is against all regulations for both the commanding
officer and his exec to fly the same mission."
The Ambassador paused in the doorway and looked over her
shoulder. "That has already been cleared, Colonel. You and
Captain Fox will be on the flight line and ready to fly in one
hour."
"Why us?" he demanded.
The Ambassador's smile appeared positively predatory. "You
and Captain Fox are the only two people on this base who have the
requisite protocol training. I believe you even taught a section
on that at the academy."
"One section for a single year." Jeff didn't like being
reminded of the class he got tricked into teaching. His
expertise was in tactics not protocol.
"That and your ability to be charming, when necessary." Her
smile evolved into something else, something that Jeff felt
bordered on flirtation. "We leave in an hour, Colonel."
Before Jeff could protest again, she disappeared around the
corner, heading for the door outside.
He could feel two pairs of eyes on him as he continued to
stare at the open doorway. Glancing between Katherine and Bobbi
Jo confirmed they were waiting for his reaction.
Snatching the phone from his desk, he brought his other hand
up to dial but his fingers froze hovering over the buttons. This
wasn't right. Despite the clarity of his orders, there was
something wrong with this whole affair.
Stabbing a couple of pre-programmed buttons, he dropped into
his seat and waited for someone to answer. He was going to get
to the bottom of this.
"General?" he said when the voice of his former flight
leader answered. "What the hell is going on?"
There was a pause. "Jeffrey, has your guest arrived?" came
General Emerson's voice through the phone.
"Yes and that's what I want to talk to you about," Jeff
replied, turning around in his chair and facing the window.
"Press the scrambler, Jeffrey, and we'll talk."
Reaching behind him, he punched the red button on the
phone's base and waited until it blinked red. "Okay, we're
covered. What's up with this woman anyway?"
"If you're referring to Ambassador Lemieux, I trust you will
give her your complete cooperation."
"Do you know why she's here?"
"Yes, I do."
"Do you know what she's asking of us?"
"Yes and I'm sorry it has to be this way."
"Dammit, Hot Rocks, you know better than to order both
command elements to be committed to the same operation. The
squadron will be left leaderless."
"Your concerns are noted. However, I must point out that
you have no choice in the matter. The orders come from higher
up."
"How much higher?"
"The top."
"I smell Leonard."
Emerson chuckled. "Probably. That doesn't change your
orders."
"Why us? Can't you find two peacocks strutting about that
playpen you call a headquarters?"
"Jeffrey, there's more going on here than just a peace
conference and I need someone with special talents." General
Emerson sounded tired, like he'd argued this very issue before -
probably with those very 'higher ups' he described. "Things are
happening in York. This morning we got word that there was an
overnight coup."
"A coup? By whom?" Jeff glanced at Bobbi Jo and saw her
eyebrows rise at his statement.
"The religious leader of York took control with the help of
the York Army. Brother John, or whatever he calls himself, has
declared he was ordained by some god to assume control of the
country. They are no longer the Barony of York. They are now
known as the Holy Kingdom of York - the Chosen People of God."
"I'll bet that's murder to put on a letterhead," Jeff
replied sarcastically.
The General chuckled again. "Wouldn't surprise me.
Seriously, they were fanatics before. Now they're religious
fanatics. That makes them doubly dangerous."
"All of which is interesting but it doesn't answer my
question. Why us?"
"The United Confederate States are sending a delegation as
interested neutrals. Since every delegation is allowed two
escorts, we believe the UCS delegation will probably be escorted
by two of the Veritechs captured at Miami Base. We need to know
their condition and combat-worthiness. You know Veritechs inside
and out. You can see through any cosmetic facades used to cover
operational deficiencies. They will probably send the best two
they have. From that, we can estimate the conditions of the
rest."
"I see." While it wasn't the sort of answer he was looking
for, it certainly made sense. Finding out if the UCS was capable
of keeping up with the maintenance-intensive Veritech fighter
would be most valuable in determining just how much of a threat
the Grays were.
"There's another reason. This one a little more personal.
We suspect that their escort pilots will be led by someone you
know."
Jeff didn't have much trouble figuring out who that would
be. "Donnie Lee," he said.
"Exactly. You and he were pretty close when he was your
Executive Officer with 31 Squadron."
Close? He was like a little brother. Jeff remembered
acting as a mentor to the young man, training him in how to
command a squadron and how to evaluate tactical situations. They
spent a lot of off-duty time together, mostly drinking and
discussing the war. Nobody knew Donnie Lee like Jeff.
"I understand," he said in a low voice.
"We believe the former Captain Lee is now the commander of
their Veritech squadron. I want to know if he's as good as he
used to be."
"That's not going to be easy, General. At least, not
without fighting him." Jeff remembered all the mock air combats
they flew against each other, testing their own limits as they
challenged the other. They usually ended in a draw.
"I trust you'll find a way."
"Right," Jeff replied like he didn't believe his own
response. "That explains me. Why Captain Fox?"
"Oh, I don't know. It never hurts to have a pretty face
around."
"I'm not laughing, General," Jeff warned. While Emerson's
comment was the sort of thing they had often said to each other,
lately such jokes had begun to bother him.
"Okay, okay, the reason she's going along is because the
Ambassador picked her."
Jeff eyed Katherine. "Why?"
"I honestly don't know. Ask the Ambassador."
"Believe me, I will."
"About the Ambassador, be careful. I can't put my finger on
exactly why but something about her and this meeting bothers me.
The cast of characters are too volatile."
"You think the Ambassador might be a problem?" Jeff knew
she was hardheaded but wasn't sure if that was just an act to
cover something else. Perhaps she wasn't suited for this job and
just covering her knowledge of that by acting tough and overly
officious.
"She's not the person I would have picked for this
assignment. Her manner is all wrong for the sort of people she
will be trying to guide through a tough negotiation." Emerson
sounded like he wanted to say more but couldn't for some reason.
"Watch your six."
Jeff dropped the phone back into its cradle. Glancing
between Katherine and Bobbi Jo, he got the feeling they were
waiting for him to say something. His grunt of irritation
spurred Bobbi Jo to take the initiative.
"I guess I better go get an update on York," she said with
an embarrassed expression. Little wonder. Having her squadron
commander hearing such news from someone else left her in an
awkward position.
"Do," Jeff said. "I want details before we leave."
With an acknowledgment, Bobbi Jo fled from the room, her
departure almost causing a collision with Commander Crittenton
who had the unfortunate timing to be visiting Lieutenant Wallace
for his morning reports.
"Don't just stand there, Captain," Jeff said, slapping his
desk with both hands as he stood up. "We've been invited to a
party. Go get your best uniform."
Katherine nodded and quickly disappeared from his office.
Turning to look out the window, Jeff followed the
Ambassador's progress back to her transport. Her confident
strides gave him little reassurance about their mission.
Watching her order about her two assistants only confirmed the
General's opinion of her and her abilities. He shook his head
and turned away from the scene.
Fanatical Yorkies, devious Grays, and militant Zentraedi.
This had all the makings of a disaster.
"Maggie! Call Captain Lynn and have her refuel the
Ambassador's transport. Then have Captain Parino report to me."
The mention of Ona's name reminded him of one other task he
needed to perform before leaving.
Picking up his phone again, he dialed a number he hoped he
would never have to use. Moments later, after a number of
transfers, the person he wanted to speak to answered.
"Global Military Police, Special Operations Section, Colonel
Rossi speaking."
"This is Colonel Stuart, RDF Thirteen Squadron."
"Yes, Colonel, what can I do for you?" The man sounded
entirely too pleasant.
"We have had a small situation down here and I was hoping
you could help clear things up."
"Certainly, Colonel. We're always happy to assist our RDF
brothers-in-arms."
"Do you have any field operatives working in the Ozark
region?"
"We have people everywhere, Colonel."
Jeff could tell the man was being evasive. He couldn't be
sure if it was because he was really clueless or just playing
along. "What about Osage City?" he asked.
"Osage City?" There was a long pause. "I'm not sure I know
where that is."
"Down near the Arkansas Protectorate. I'm sure you've heard
of *that*."
"Colonel, as I said, we have teams operating everywhere.
Why do you ask?"
"There appears to have been an incident last night in Osage
City and I have reason to believe your people were involved."
There was a pause as if the GMP Colonel was evaluating his
options. "Incident? Could you be more specific?"
"Very well. I understand that three of your field officers
attacked one of my pilots," Jeff said, trying to control his
growing anger. He didn't like evasive people.
"Attacked?" Colonel Rossi sounded surprised - or was very
good at faking it.
"I'm sorry. You wanted specifics. Let's change that to
attempted rape."
"Involving our people? That's a pretty strong accusation,
Colonel. I trust you have some evidence."
"Witnesses, Colonel, along with a half-naked officer who was
severely beaten."
Another pause only added to Jeff's irritation. "I see. I
will have to check into this," Colonel Rossi said.
"Fine. You do that." Jeff practically snapped his
response.
"Anything else, Colonel?"
"Just one more thing. I have a tough enough job here. I
don't need the distraction your people molesting mine whenever
they feel a little... frisky."
Colonel Rossi chuckled. "I understand, Colonel. I assure
you that if I discover my people were in any way involved, I will
take the strongest measures to punish those involved and make
certain it never happens again."
"Fair enough, Colonel. I'm glad we could reach an
understanding on this matter."
"Always glad to be of service to the RDF."
"By the way, I heard there was a bounty on Ona Parino?"
"Really, Colonel, we don't put bounties on Zentraedi. You
must be confusing us with the Yorkies."
"Of course. Sorry to have mentioned it," Jeff replied with
a wry smile.
"No problem. Good day, Colonel."
Jeff hung up the phone and crossed his arms. "Lying
bastard," he mumbled. The fact Colonel Rossi knew of Ona Parino
AND that she was a Zentraedi confirmed everything he suspected
about the incident. The GMP knew where Ona was and were taking
steps to capture her, probably for that incident at Aunt Margie's
mission station. The five she encountered in Osage City knew
what they were doing. Since the GMP didn't usually back off when
they thought they had their quarry cornered, everyone would have
to be on their guard.
"You sent for me, sir?"
He looked up at Ona's voice. A quick visual assessment of
her condition confirmed she was in no condition to fly.
"The doctor tells me you've been grounded for a few days,"
he said, picking up a folder that contained Doctor Takahashi's
report. "Says here you suffered three cracked ribs, among other
injuries."
"Zentraedi heal quickly, Colonel," Ona replied, her usual
lack of expression held no clue to how she really felt about the
situation. She couldn't have been pleased.
"That's good. We're a little short-handed right now." He
paused to catch her reaction. There was none. "Captain Fox and
I have been ordered to accompany a VIP today. That leaves me
with a small problem. Who do I leave in charge?"
Ona just stared at Jeff's desk with a blank expression. If
she suspected his answer, she didn't show it.
"I want you to command the squadron until I return."
"Sir, I --"
"That wasn't a suggestion, Captain. The squadron is yours."
"Sir, I'm no good at organizing. I don't believe they will
follow... I mean..." With an uncharacteristic wave of her hands
in frustration, she sighed heavily.
Jeff frowned. He knew what was causing her apprehension.
"You're a very capable flight leader who is going to do a fine
job commanding this squadron."
Ona shook her head. "No, sir. I'm a Zentraedi. Humans
won't follow a Zentraedi, sir."
"Mine will. They're trained to follow orders, Captain. I
have every confidence they will obey your orders - Zentraedi or
not."
When their eyes locked, he could see hints of genuine fear.
Why would she be so hesitant to take a command position? She=s
already a flight leader with three humans who follow her every
command. No, there had to be something else going on. He wished
he had more time to pursue the issue.
"You are a respected flight leader, Parino. Treat this as
nothing more than commanding a large flight."
Ona began to say something but couldn't. Her shoulders
sagged. "If you say so, sir," she said with a sigh.
"Look, it won't be that tough. Robins is on alert until
sundown, Montoya will be flying patrol with Daisy Mills handling
backup. Wallace will deal with anything administrative, Major
Davis will keep the base functioning, and Commander Crittenton
will tie everything together. All you have to do is be available
to make command decisions when required."
Ona closed her eyes and drew a deep breath before nodding
her agreement. She would do her best; he had no doubt about
that. How much she would like it was another matter.
"Good. You can use the command office across the hall.
Lieutenant Wallace will assist you with whatever you need."
"Yes, sir." Like a scolded child, she trudged out of his
office.
He watched her walk over to Cindy's desk and saw them talk
briefly. The blonde's enthusiastic response was encouraging.
Ona seemed to relax a bit when talking to Cindy.
With a sigh of relief, Jeff turned again towards the windows
that framed he other problem. As some of Gail's ground crew
rigged hoses to refuel the little transport, he wondered just how
screwed up things could get. Leaving his inexperienced squadron
in the hands of a Zentraedi who clearly wanted nothing to do with
its command, accompanying an officious negotiator who's mission
seemed impossible, and facing an uncomfortable reunion with a
former fellow officer who led the rebellion at Miami Base left
him feeling particularly old.
"What a lousy way to start a tour of duty," he grumbled.
Shaking his head, he started for the locker room to pick up his
flight suit.
Email: sandborn@kc.rr.com
All previous versions can be found at:
Web: http://home.kc.rr.com/sandborn
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