THE BRINK - OPERATION DEEP FLIGHT

by Marshall Huffman

  700 knots and still leaving them in the dust. At 10,000 feet the object did a 90 degree, right turn, and stayed level. The pilots were amazed. What kind of craft could maneuver like that? It hovered for a few seconds while they quickly closed the gap. Just as quickly, the craft dove toward the sea and again stopped just feet above the surface. They could see the strange craft lower itself onto the surface of the water and start to descend. Within seconds it was gone from sight.

  “n......a bitch,” suddenly filled their head phones.

  “Leader one, Chopshop, do you copy?”

  “Roger, Leader one. I have communications. The threat indicator is nil.”

  “Leader One, I have a copy,” Snakeman reported, as well as Thruster.

  “Okay, girls. What in the world just happened?”

  “Man, you tell me. I have no idea what that was all about.”

  No one said anything for a few seconds.

  “So how do we report this?” Leader One wanted to know.

  “It has to be a UFO reporting,” Thruster replied.

  “Better think about that. You know what that means?”

  “Yeah, but what the hell else can do stuff like that? Man, that dude could burn our butts anytime it wanted to.”

  “I don’t know. I sure don’t want this to go on record as a UFO sighting,” Chopshop added.

  “Ditto for me,” replied Snakeman.

  “Mother, Leader One, do you copy?”

  “Roger Leader One. You’re five by five. What went on up there?”

  “Ah...Mother we’re not sure. We’re trying to sort it out right now, over.”

  “Well, Papa Hen is screaming on the phone. First you went off radar then they lost everything. They were totally dead in the water. All of the escorts were down at the exact same time. What did you guys see?”

  “Mother, tell Papa Hen that we will file a report upon return. Request permission to return to base.”

  “Permission granted. Proceed to home plate.”

  “Roger, home plate.”

  The pilots talked among themselves but guardedly. They knew that their transmissions were being recorded. There was no way for them to decide on a story and stick to it with others eavesdropping. After a short twenty minute flight they had a visual on the carrier.

  “Request permission to land.”

  “Go to marshal area A, 6 angles”, came the reply. They were going to stack them up and bring them in separated. The skipper wanted to make sure they couldn’t get together and make up a story of some kind.

  Within a few minutes the first craft, the F-16 Falcon piloted by Thruster was given permission to land. He broke out of the marshaling area and engaged the ILS mode. The GSD and LD jumped up on the HUD display. He checked his speed, 140 knots. He lowered his gear and extended the hook.

  “Come right....come…right.....reduce speed ...come right.

  Thruster checked the HUD. He was on the center of the LD bar that tells him that he is correctly aligned. He quickly checked the GSD bar to make sure he was at the proper glide angle. He was on the ‘ball’.

  500 feet.....400......300......over the fantail and down.

  The tail hook slammed into the carrier deck and he snagged the number three wire while applying MIL power just in case he had missed. The craft came to a jolting stop. He shut down the power and raised the tail hook. He was directed to taxi to a staging area. The arresting cable was already being stretched out for the next bird. He came to a stop, unstrapped and climbed out. No sooner had he stepped on to the deck than a Marine appeared.

  “Captain. Please follow me.”

  “Sure thing, where are we going?”

  “The Admiral wants to see you sir.”

  He lead Captain Robins, known as ‘Thruster’, to a debriefing room and closed the door. While this was taking place the second plane was given permission to land and he started his approach.

  Captain Robins knew that there was no way to get out of this. If he made up a story and it didn’t jive, he would be in big trouble. If he didn’t, it was still going to look bad. No pilot, with or without witnesses, wants to report a UFO sighting.

  He sat there for several minutes before the door opened.

  “Attention on deck.”

  The Admiral and three other officers entered the room.

  Captain Robins jumped to his feet.

  “Captain Robins,” the Admiral said, by way of greeting.

  “Yes sir.”

  “Captain that was a most unusual mission. Son, I want you to think before you answer any of my questions. Do you understand?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Good. Now Captain, tell me in your own words, what happened out there today? Take your time and tell me everything.”

  Thruster took a deep breath and started to explain what had gone on. He started with the contact on the Migs.

  “Skip that crap. I want to know what happened once Mother Hen told you to break off and you went off the grid.”

  “Yes sir.”

  The Captain was trapped. He had to tell him what he saw, or what the thought he saw. The Admiral listened without saying anything or changing his expressions. When he was finished, he stopped and looked at the Admiral. The Admiral just sat there looking back at him. Almost a minute lapsed before the Captain added a couple of other things that he had decided to omit. The Admiral just waited. He could always get the full story. He could out wait anyone.

  “And that’s your full story?” he finally said, when the Captain was at last finished.

  “Yes sir. I know it doesn’t sound good, but sir, it’s what happened from my perspective.”

  “You are filing an official UFO sighting?”

  “Sir, I don’t want to, but what else can I do?”

  “Captain, you remain here in this room. Do not leave for any reason without my express permission. There is a head in here so you just wait.”

  “Aye aye sir,” he said, as the Admiral departed.

  By this time all the aircraft had returned to the carrier and each of the men was sitting in a different room waiting his turn to have the Admiral debrief him. They had all come to the same conclusion. Better to tell it like it was than to try to lie and get caught. The Admiral had no sense of humor about that stuff. Besides, with lies you have to try to keep your story straight. With the truth, it just is what it is. The entire debriefing took almost an hour. After that, they were all assembled in one room again.

  “Gentlemen your stories all check out the same, except for minor details. The E-3 crew can do little to confirm or deny your story except for the fact that their radar screens did the same thing as yours. All transmissions incoming and outgoing were lost as well as all radar images. I’m sure you know that we had some of the same difficulties here, as did the entire group. Every ship went dead in the water at the exact same time,” he said in a stern voice.

  “No one but your wing group could make an actual visual sighting,” one of the other officers in the room added.

  “None of you can give an exact location because, as I understand it, all your gauges were pretty much useless. Is that correct?”

  “Yes sir. I can tell you it was southwest of the carrier and that we flew for 22 minutes at approximately 450 knots.”

  “Well, that helps, but it’s a hell of a big ocean, and since we were offline it only adds to the vagueness,” the Admiral said.

  “The real problem that we are all faced with, and that includes the Admiral as well, I might add, is what to file as an official report,” Commander Larks added.

  “Men, I don’t see any way to avoid filing this as an UFO encounter. Does anyone disagree?” the Admiral asked, looking at each man. They all just shook their heads.

  “Alright. I want each of you to give me a full written report by 0800 hundred tomorrow. I will add them to my report. I don’t imagine we have heard the last of this, I’m sorry to say.” The Admiral stood up.

  “Attention on deck.”

&nbs
p; Everyone in the room stood.

  “Dismissed,” one of the officers said, after he departed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  - PENTAGON -

  “Admiral Marcus, line one please.”

  “Admiral Marcus,” he said picking up the phone.

  “Sir, could you please hold. The Secretary of the Navy would like a word with you.”

  Marcus felt his heart leap. Now what? This was the first time ever that he had been called by the Secretary.

  “Admiral Marcus, John Taylor.”

  “Yes sir, Mr. Secretary. How may I help you?”

  “Don’t get concerned,” he said, probably because he could hear the tension in Marcus’s voice.

  “Yes sir.”

  “Admiral, you are in charge of project Deep Flight and I just want to know, in as few technical terms as possible, what kind of progress you have made.”

  Marcus thought for a second before answering. This was really unusual. He could have gotten most of the information from his last committee briefing.

  “Well sir. We have made excellent progress on the DSV itself. The hull is mostly complete and we are starting to place many of the sub-assemblies on the frame work. The navigational, weapons, sonar, radar and computers are not ready, but they are on schedule, according to my last briefing. I estimate that we are running slightly ahead of schedule.”

  “Excellent. Listen Admiral, can you tell me exactly what you would need to move up the project in terms of time?”

  “Sorry sir, I don’t follow. Move up, as in, get it to sea trials?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Well sir, as always, it would come down to money. The contractors were all given specific funding and delivery guidelines. To change the time requirements would require me calling the major system producers together and seeing what can be done and at what cost.”

  “And if you eliminate the cost?”

  “Eliminate the cost? Well, then it just becomes a matter of setting new goals and trying to keep them. Of course the safety factors can’t be thrown out. We’re talking about a DSV that can obtain 60,000 feet. I wouldn’t want to cut too many corners.”

  “I’m not suggesting that. I just want to know what effect it would have on the project if we eliminated the usual budget restrictions.”

  “I think I can safely say we would make great progress.”

  “A year’s worth?”

  “A year?” Marcus almost shouted, “Sir that would take an incredible amount of money. I don’t know sir. Some of this stuff is just being invented as we go along. This is totally new technology. Six months maybe, but a year? I doubt it.”

  “I understand. Look. You get your key people together and have them talk it over. Give me a call on my direct line once you feel you have a better handle on this. Forget the money. It is not an issue.”

  “Yes sir. I’ll call the team members together just as quickly as they can all get here,” he said in disbelief.

  Before the Secretary hung up he gave Marcus his private number to call him on when he was ready to report

  * * *

  It was almost a week before all the members could reassemble in Washington. They were all curious as to why the sudden, unscheduled meeting. They were all offering their pet theories when the door to the conference room opened.

  “Attention on deck,” a sailor announced. They had all learned to ignore it by now.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, please be seated. I have a lot of questions for you and I need answers,” he said. They settled into their seats.

  Peter had looked up Susan and made sure they were seated next to each other. He didn’t have to look too hard because she had been searching for him as well.

  “I have called you all here for a rather unusual reason. I received a call from the Secretary of Navy last week and he inquired as to when we would have Deep Flight completed. Now, I know that at our last meeting just a few weeks ago, I reported that we were ahead of schedule by about three weeks. I need to know if anything has changed.”

  “Such as falling behind?” Dr. Phillips asked.

  “Ahead or behind,” Marcus said.

  Peter said, “We think we have the oxygen regenerator problems solved. We have just finished testing the prototype for over a week and it is working better than expected. We weren’t scheduled to have it tested for another four weeks.”

  “Excellent. Good news. And the Navigational system?”

  “Ah, not as good. We’re on schedule, but just by the skin of our teeth, honestly. Of course we haven’t even gotten close to trying to interface with the main computer system,” he added.

  “I appreciate your candor, Dr. Ferris,” Marcus said.

  “Dr. Long?”

  “We have the parameters set and have started to configure the hardware to fit into the blueprint templates that you had delivered. We’re about on schedule with that part. Maybe slightly ahead. We have only written the very basic software program. I will need all of the subsystem requirements before we can even seriously approach that part.”

  “I understand. Thank You. How about you Dr. Morgan?”

  “Yes. Well, as you well know, the camouflage system is totally new and no work has ever really been done in this area. Successfully, I mean. We have been trying several revolutionary techniques and two are showing a great deal of promise.”

  “Sorry Doctor. Is that a ‘yes we’re on schedule,' or a ‘no’?”

  “It’s a, kind of. Sorry, I’m not really trying to be a wise guy here. We could reach a breakthrough on either system in a matter of days or we could have to start over.”

  “Well, that wouldn’t stop the entire project I don’t suppose,” Marcus said.

  “I’m afraid it would,” Susan interjected.

  “Really? Why?”

  “Well, without stealing Dr. Morgan’s thunder...”

  “Susan, my dear, you can steal anything I have,” he joked and everyone laughed except Marcus. He wanted answers.

  “As I was saying. It could. The ever-modest Doctor needs to tell you that one of his promising systems involves stimulation of the plasma substance, or whatever they call it, by electrical means. The amount of stimulation would have to be controlled by the computer. If that system isn’t ready it will be very difficult to come back and add it in at a later date.”

  “All right. So, it’s not a matter of just moving forward without the camouflage system and then coming back and adding it.”

  “Not if you want it to work right.”

  “Admiral, I don’t want to push it or anything, but why don’t you just come right out and say what’s on your mind?” Dr. Morgan said.

  “Good point. You’re absolutely right. Okay the Secretary of the Navy asked me, point blank, what it would take to get this project really rolling. Suddenly it’s the hottest show around. A year ago I could hardly get anyone to listen to me. What he wants to know is how can we move the target date for completion up?”

  “How far?” Peter asked.

  “A year.”

  “What? A year?” one of the team members said.

  “Or better if we can manage it.”

  Everyone started talking among themselves. Marcus let them continue until it started to die down.

  “So? Can we do it?”

  “Do you have any idea what it would cost?”

  “I’m sure a great deal. That’s not the issue. Can we do it?”

  “Not the issue? Money is always an issue.”

  “When I say it’s not an issue, believe me, it’s not. The Secretary just wants to know if we can do it.”

  “Admiral,” Peter said.

  “Yes Doctor?”

  “Can we talk among ourselves for a time? I think we all need to discuss this in great detail before we give you some half-baked answer.”

  “I think that’s an excellent plan. I will be in my office. Have one of the aids come for me when you’re ready.”

  He excused himself and the members got d
own to business. Peter very quickly established himself as the discussion leader and no one challenged him. They talked for hours about the problems they would be facing. Each member was open and frank, expressing the strength and weaknesses of their individual programs. It was apparent that each was interdependent on the other for many of the programs, but the ships onboard computer system was the key.

  Little could be done until the subsystems were near perfection. They discussed the various elements and how to get them to come together at a faster rate but it was impossible since they were all spread out across the country.

  “Look,” Peter said, “What if we were able to work under the same roof, or at least in the same city? Wouldn’t that help?”

  “Maybe. We still have to get the people, lab equipment and the materials to this central location.”

  “I understand. What I’m asking is would it cut down our lag time?”

  “Undoubtedly. But Peter, without putting too fine a point on it, we still can’t say with any certainty when some of the breakthroughs we are needing, might occur.”

  “I agree, but by working together we would have greater access to each other.”

  “Combining brain power,” Phillips added.

  “I think it would be of tremendous help,” Susan said.

  They all agreed that it couldn’t hurt. But it was going to cost a bundle.

  “Where would we find such a facility that could meet all of our needs?” one of the men asked.

  “Darn good question. I think we should let the Admiral handle that,” Peter said.

  “With our guidance,” Morgan added.

  “Goes without saying.”

  They continued to discuss the various location of each of the team members and the special requirements. It was going to be a real challenge for the Admiral they all concluded. While they were talking, several aids came in and brought box lunches.

  Most of them didn’t even stop to eat. Unlimited funds always revved up their engines. Several more hours of discussion were necessary before they felt comfortable enough to send for Admiral Marcus.

  “Some discussion,” he said, upon his return.

  “Some question,” Peter answer.

  “So? What do you think?”