by Unknown
“I don’t know. He’s getting very antsy.”
“Let him. The big boys are playing in the pond. If he wants in, he better want to play nice,” Williamson nearly shouted. “I’ll let you know when something happens,” he said as he hung up the phone. Williamson hated dealing with people who had no backbone. He picked up his glass and downed the remainder of its contents. The fire in his throat calmed him some. He’d see that Jonas was replaced as soon as he could.
The Pentagon
Claire Richardson was almost gleeful as she made the call on the secure satellite link to the Iowa. “He got your message and you’ve got him worried,” she said.
On the other end Hammond smiled. “Good. I want to make him scared to death. I bet he nearly wet himself when they saw the Wasp this morning. I made sure they saw empty LCACs returning to the ship. If he worries we might have made a landing, it’s just too bad.”
“Just make sure you don’t scare him into doing something drastic. If he moves those people, we might never find them again,” said Richardson.
“I agree, Claire. Right now, I just want to keep his attention focused on this group. The team is on a C-1 right now heading for the carrier. Once there, I will ferry them aboard Iowa and give them their final brief. I figure the quicker we get them in, the better,” he said.
“I wish I could go with you Roger. It’s fun being in the game again,” she said.
“That’s all I’m good for, getting you your jollies?” he joked.
“Sitting in this glorified five sided brothel? I’ll take what I get.” She heard Hammond laugh on the other end. “You be careful, Roger. I’ll keep sending down the intel and will let you know if anything breaks loose from the FBI,” she said in a concerned voice.
“Thanks Marine. I’ll bring back pictures.”
Richardson grunted. “Just as long as they will hold up in court,” she said. “Take care.”
Hammond set down the received and turned to his Chief of Staff, Captain Moyseowicz. “When should the team get to the carrier?”
Moyseowicz looked at his watch. “About thirty minutes. I have a CH-53 standing by to bring them here. Rhodes has their quarters set up and a place for their gear. We’ll brief them in tomorrow and they’ll take off tomorrow night. They’ll head out after dark,” he said.
Hammond nodded. “Yep, I want them underway by about 2030. About an hour to the ship, a five hour run, and another two hours to the drop zone should have them getting there just before dawn. Where will the Osprey land?”
“They’ll make a dash to Colombia to a small military field there. Once refueled, they will head back out to the ship. It’s a long night, but we can’t really wait,” Moyseowicz said.
Hammond nodded. “Thad, it looks like we won’t be getting much sleep after tomorrow.”
Moyseowicz grinned. “That’s why they pay us the big bucks,” he said.
In a C-1 Off Brazil
Ricks was not a happy man. The C-1 Trader bounced around the sky like a drunken prostitute. He thoroughly expected to blow his lights out all over his fellow passengers. The rest of the men didn’t look much better. In the back of the enclosed cabin, the Brazilian crewmember was eating on some sort of sausage and grinning at his passengers. Sgt. Miller sat beside Ricks. He was a pale green in color. Sitting backwards in the plane didn’t help.
Just two hours ago, his men had been crammed into three of the C-1s and took off toward the carrier. It was the first time Ricks had been in a piston engine aircraft. He thought the vibrations would shake them to death. He would have to check all the gear to make sure it hadn’t been damaged after this pounding.
The orders were to go to the carrier and then be ferried to the Iowa for the final brief. Ricks was a little anxious to get back to the ship. He remembered being wheeled up the gangway and positioned next to the dais where the President would speak. That was where the President had placed the medal around his neck. Receiving the Medal of Honor under the big guns of the Iowa had been the proudest moment he had experienced. He remembered the look of pure love on Su Lynn’s face. The tears his mother tried to hold back. But most of all, he remembered the stupid look on his father’s face. The old man still had a hard time believing that the runt of the litter could do something like that.
Ricks smiled. His Dad had never thought he was much. Now Dale could call a President on the phone at any time and get to talk to him. He was also a hero in their small town. Not that it mattered. Ricks never let such stuff get to him. Just tell him what needed to be done and he’d get it done. Ricks had all he wanted. Su Lynn had become his wife. He had two twin boys and he had a house and his pickup. What more could a guy want, he thought.
The air crewman was waving his arms indicating everyone should assume the position to land. Ricks checked to make sure his belt was tight. The crewman checked each passenger before getting into his own seat and strapping in.
The plane banked sharply to the left and settled out. The men could tell they were descending. Suddenly the engines slowed to idle. With almost a crash, the plane bounced onto the deck. The tailhook engaged the arrestor wire and the pilot slammed the throttles forward to take off, in case they missed. Engines screaming, the plane jerked to a halt and the pilot idled the engines once again. After maneuvering around the deck, the engines finally were shut down and the door on the aircraft opened. Unstrapping, the men began to get up and move around the cramped cabin. Ricks was stopped at the door and watched as the third C-1 landed on the deck. Within a few minutes, all three aircraft were parked beside the São Paulo’s island structure.
Gathering their gear, the men were immediately escorted to a big CH-53 Super Stallion parked nearby. Once aboard, the helicopter’s turbine engines began to spool up. Within ten minutes they were airborne again.
Ricks eased out of his seat and over to Captain Chapman. Everyone was wearing a big set of hearing protectors, so Ricks had to lean right next to his ear and yell. “Somebody must be in a hurry.”
Chapman grinned and nodded. He leaned over to Ricks’ ear. “Your buddy is anxious to see you,” he said in jest.
Ricks grinned. “I like having friends in high places. Any more word?”
Chapman shook his head. “Was told to wait until we get aboard the ship.”
Ricks nodded and made his way to the door where the crewman was standing. Staring out the opening, he saw about thirty ships in some sort of formation around the Brazilian carrier São Paulo and an LHD. There were F-35 Lightnings flying around along with the Brazilian A-4s and a couple of Ospreys. In the distance was something very large, but he couldn’t quite make it out. Then, the crewman pointed toward the front of the aircraft.
USS Iowa was leaving a lighter blue wake as she steamed through the sea. From the air, the big guns looked even bigger – especially when seen with all of the crewmen moving around the decks. Her teak decks glistened brightly in the sun and she appeared to roll gently as she made her way. There was activity back aft. People were setting out fire hoses and other equipment to be ready for their landing. Just before returning to his seat, Ricks noticed a tall man in khakis exit a door on the side of the ship. From the greying hair and the way the other crewmen got out of his way, he knew it was his friend.
Upon the signal they were ready, the CH-53 made its way toward the stern of the ship on the starboard side. Following the directions of the crewman on the deck, the pilot eased the giant helo over the deck, hovering for a moment, and then gently sitting down. The rear hatch opened and the Special Operations team quickly gathered its equipment and exited the aircraft. Moments later, the big helicopter lifted off once again and made its way to USS Wasp.
Ricks turned to see Hammond walking towards him. He stopped and saluted. Hammond returned the salute, then grabbed his hand and slapped him on the arm. “Damn, it’s good to see you again Ricks,” he said.
“Same here. Seems like I’ve been aboard this thing, sir,” Ricks said.
“Yes, but now you’re on
her while she’s underway. I’ll make a crewman of you yet.”
“Sorry, I’m spoken for,” Ricks said.
Captain Chapman and Captain Rhodes came up.
“Let’s get your men below to your quarters. Looks like you’ll have till tomorrow evening before we give the brief and get you on your way,” said Rhodes.
Several crewmen escorted the men down the hatch and further down to the Marine Berthing just at the end of “Broadway,” outside the engineering spaces. It was quiet, dark and cool. The men were quickly assigned a rack and each stowed his gear and cleaned up before heading out to explore the ship. Their mission had been delayed, but it was on again and they were ready to get going. Few would actually get much sleep.
Cleveland, Ohio
It was down to the final push now. Congressman Gregory Foster was tired beyond belief. After four speeches beginning with breakfast, he had finally finished the rubber chicken dinner and said goodbye to fellow party members in Cleveland. Boarding the bus, he headed straight back to his small office to sit back and relax. As the bus began its way to Memphis, he just wanted to pull his clothes off and go to sleep on the small bed set up for him. Unfortunately, there was a planned meeting in about thirty minutes to go over the schedule and make last minute arrangements.
As he sat at his desk, there was a knock at the door. Deshawn Jackson stuck his head in. Foster smiled up at the young man. “Yes, Deshawn, you need something?” he asked.
Jackson smiled and stepped in the doorway holding a cold soda. “Actually, I just wanted to see if you might need some company,” he said. He held up the can. “I have heard that some guy in the opposite party loves these things, so I brought one just in case,” he said, placing the soda on the desk. Then he got more serious. “I know you’re tired, but sometimes a guy needs to just unwind and just talk to someone. If you need me, I’m your guy,” he said with a grin.
Foster chuckled. It was well known that O’Bannon was addicted to the things. He popped the tab on the soda and motioned Jackson in. He liked Jackson. The young man worked harder than almost anybody in the office and seemed to know what was needed before he was asked. In this case, he was spot on. “I swear, Deshawn, you seem to read my mind. What would you like to talk about?”
Jackson shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever you would like, just as long as it’s not about the campaign. How’re the daughters?”
Foster sat back in his seat. “They’re fine. Mandy is planning on joining us before the end of this tour. Alison is too busy with my new grandchild. Little Mark has started to walk and is now exploring everything in the house. She said she caught him in the dog food bag the other day feeding their puppy one piece at a time,” he said smiling. “It seems their child proofing measures aren’t as good as she thought.” He let out a chuckle.
“Yea, my sister has one a little older. She’s about two now. Sonja swears the kid is giving her gray hair, but it’s really neat when I visit and she starts to do things with me. Even at that age, they have their own little personality.”
‘Oh yes. I remember when Amanda and I were raising our two. Little Alison was always the carefree, outgoing one, while little Mandy was always the more studious and serious of the two. It sure was fun watching them grow up,” Foster said.
As Foster took another sip of the soda, Jackson could already see a difference in the man. The lines across his face had already smoothed and his manner was much more relaxed. The real Gregory Foster was returning.
“Tell me. What got you interested in politics?” Foster asked.
Jackson threw up his hands. “My Mama always told me I was the dumbest one of the bunch,” he joked. Both men laughed. “Actually, my grandfather always told me that if a man wanted to change the system, it was far easier on the inside. He liked working in local politics and was able to make a few changes on his own before he passed. Now Mom put her emphasis on education. She wanted me to be a teacher, but my first political science class changed that. I got involved in student government and then when I graduated, started to work in one of Congressman Lauder’s office, then when he retired, I moved over to yours in downtown Indianapolis. I guess I’ve been working for you ever since.”
“Glutton for punishment, huh?” joked Foster. “Well, it’s been nice having you along. Most young men seem to like hitching their cart to the power players. But you appear to me to really enjoy the work itself. I know you’ve bailed my butt out a few times this year. I appreciate it.”
Jackson shrugged again. “At least it’s not dull. Most of my friends from home are doing just regular jobs and pulling in a paycheck. When I go home, they actually can’t relate to me and what I do. They seem to think this is all fun and games,” Jackson said. “They don’t have any idea how things really work or how hard it is to get some things done in government. So I just let them dream and then come back to work. Me, I like the challenge,” he said.
“It’s a challenge all right. You just never can please everyone and sometimes you can’t please anyone, but somehow we get the job done. A lot of it depends on who you have working for you. I’m lucky that I really like most of the people on my staff. The rest are necessary, so you just have to put up with them.”
“Like me?” Jackson asked with a smile.
Foster laughed, “Yea, you’re such a pain in the ass,” he joked.
Both laughed again. Jackson thought a moment, then threw caution to the winds. “I got to ask you this, and I hope you won’t just throw me off the bus, but how did you pick Williamson to be your Chief of Staff? I mean, we can all see that you don’t really get along that well.”
Foster stopped laughing and looked at Jackson. The kid was sincere. He was really trying to be a friend, not just a staffer. The question was one which shouldn’t have been asked, but needed an answer. “Is it that obvious?” Foster asked.
Jackson took a long breath. “It’s pretty obvious. I remember a few times when you were together in an office and voices were raised. I even remember the other night when you came out stomping mad. Of course we don’t say anything, but I can tell it’s working on you. I’m just happy you don’t take it out on the rest of us,” Jackson said seriously.
Foster looked at Jackson with a sad face. In this case he had to defend his Chief of Staff, but he wasn’t going to defend him that much. “Well, I’m not going to throw you off the bus. Sometimes you have to pull in people with special talents. In Dan’s case, he has a long history of winning elections and he has been able to dip into the pockets of a lot of people. Let’s face it. A lot of what we have to do to get elected is raise money. He also can help within the party because of who he knows. So he definitely has his uses. That being said, I doubt I would invite him to my birthday party,” he quipped. “But this is between us. Dan has a job to do just like the rest of us. And like I said, some I really like and some are just necessary. Now you, on the other hand, will get an invitation,” Foster said.
“I appreciate that,” said Jackson. “I’ll tell you that ever since I started working in your office I have been kinda proud to be here. I personally like you, and I don’t mind saying I like when we work together. So I get a little concerned when a friend of mine seems to be bullied around. I even wondered at one time if he had something on you,” he said.
The effect was like a slap in the face. Foster’s look changed instantly from one of friendliness to one of pain. He almost physically drew back. Jackson immediately changed tack. “But I figured it was just the way he is and you were just dealing with it. I mean, that’s how we do it in the office. I just keep remembering I’m doing it for you, not him. I wouldn’t even vote for him if he were the only candidate running.”
The friendly face returned and Foster chuckled again. “Neither would I,” he said. Glancing at his watch, he said, “It’s about time we got our meeting started. How about getting the people in here so I can get some sleep. And Deshawn,” he said before Jackson left the room, “thanks for the talk. How about coming back more
often,” he said with a smile.
Jackson stopped and his face widened into a toothy grin. “Thanks Greg. You know who to call.”
As the door closed behind Jackson, Foster said under his breath, “I wish I could.”
The Presidential Palace
President Parente was furious. He took out his frustrations on his intelligence arm and his military leadership for not being able to tell him when or how things were happening. He was especially angry with his Navy. They had promised him a sunken battleship, and all he had was a missing man. He wasn’t even sure if the man was dead or had defected. His orders had been specific – watch out for the American fleet. Any and all intelligence concerning the American/Brazilian exercise and especially Vice Admiral Roger Hammond, was to come to him immediately.
He was still berating his leadership when the call came. Colonel Rojas came under fire as well for his interruption until he informed Parente that President Castro was on the phone. Parente suddenly changed to a slight smile and said, “Very good,” then stormed out of the room. Once in his office, Parente’s mood changed dramatically. He picked up the phone.
“Presidente Castro, I am so looking forward to your visit. What may I do for you?” he asked.
“I have called to ask your indulgence. It seems my brother is anxious to meet with you again. I too have been watching as things progress nearby and wish to congratulate you privately on your successes,” said Castro.
“I am deeply honored. What may I do to be of service?”
“It is a small thing. Because my brother wishes to meet with you, I am asking if we could possibly fly in and meet in some remote place the day before my official arrival. This will allow us the time to speak freely without all the ceremony, then I will fly Fidel back and return the next morning. We can meet aboard our aircraft which I have had fitted with a very nice meeting room. We can even share a meal. Two, maybe three hours and we can conclude our meeting. The next day, we can talk about more substantial issues,” Castro said.