Amanda obeyed and looked on bemused as her former shipmate, lover and senior
helicopter pilot from her days aboard the Cunningham crossed to the bed. Setting his flight bag on the spread, he popped the latches
open and removed a small electronic device roughly the size of a pack of
cigarettes. Thumbing the activation, switch he intently studied the minute
display screen before speaking a deliberate test count. “Able, Baker, Charley, Delta, Echo …”
The “bug sniffer” scanned the room’s electromagnetic spectrum and approved.
“We’re good,” he reported, tossing the glowing bit of electronics on the bed. “All secure, Captain.”
He held back the affectionate “babe” of their private times together, and made no move to draw closer or to touch her. Amanda was grateful for his wise assessment of the situation. Her own first instinct had been to burrow into the once-familiar comfort of his arms.
Once, she and this bold younger officer had run the risk of professional suicide by bonding in a potent and passionate love affair. Neither of them had regretted taking the chance at the time. It had been a needed and a good thing, to the point that a marriage had been a possibility.
It hadn’t happened and the necessities of the service had drawn them apart. Now, this sudden turn of events was going to have to be examined very carefully before a new ambience could be established.
Even so, she was glad he was here; the probability of making Phantom work had just taken a sudden upward jump.
“My new CAG?” she inquired.
“And doubling in brass as your strike squadron leader.”
She shook her head. “Eddie Mac promised me some of my old gang but I never expected this! The last
time we talked, you were in Japan with the Joint Strike Fighter demonstration
group.”
Arkady shrugged. “I was. But you know how it is when something else interesting comes along. And
this looks like it’s going to be pretty interesting.”
“To say the least.” She bit her lip for a moment but couldn’t restrain the words. “This might be violating security but I have to ask. Where is she?”
“She’s tied up in Port Jackson right now.”
Amanda lifted an eyebrow. “And do the Australians know about her?”
“They haven’t got a clue. Call it a final phase security test. But first things first,
skipper. Before I make the introduction, you’ve got the inevitable paperwork to do.”
Arkady sat on the edge of the bed and removed a stack of manila envelopes from
his flight bag. “These are all for you. Direct from Admiral MacIntyre at NAVSPECFORCE HQ.”
Amanda sank down beside the aviator and accepted the first of the envelopes. Opening it, she found herself reading a formal request to the United States Navy Bureau of Personnel for an early retirement. Her own.
Even though this had been her own proposal, her throat tightened.
“That gets mailed to the Military Attaché at the United States Embassy here in Sydney,” Arkady commented. “The post mark will reinforce the story should anyone be interested. The
resignation has already been accepted.”
Amanda managed to swallow. “I see.”
He passed her the second envelope, then rose to his feet. With dead seriousness,
he lifted his fingertips to his brow in a letter perfect salute. “I know I’m not in uniform, Admiral, but please allow me to be the first to salute your
flag.”
Amanda started to answer the salute out of reflex, then his words sank in. “What?”
She whipped the envelope open and stared at the documentation.“ Arkady, what is this?”
He laughed and sank back to the edge of the bed. “Just another example of Eddie Mac’s masterful management of the military bureaucracy. You know the old navy
tradition. When a senior Captain retires from the navy, it’s customary that they receive a symbolic one grade bump up the ladder to flag
rank. Well, you’re retiring and you may consider yourself symbolically bumped.”
“But my retirement isn’t real … or at least it’s not supposed to be.”
“Details! Details!” He indicated the second envelope. “This brings us to your new commission in the United States Naval Reserve. It won’t be on public record but it will be held by the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the
Navy. There’s also a special rider attached to this particular reserve commission directing
that, at the completion of this tour of special detached duty, your commission
in the regulars will be restored with all back pay, privileges, seniority and,
most especially, rank.” Arkady paused. “Eddie Mac just fiddled the fine print a little so that you’ll get recalled at your bumped retirement rank of rear admiral lower grade and
not as a four-striper. ”
Amanda had to laugh. “It’s not intended to work that way.”
“So? This has got to be one of the sweetest pieces of book-cooking I’ve ever heard of. You’re putting your career on the line for the Phantom Project so the Boss is making
double-be-damned sure you get it back again and then some when this thing is
over. You know the Admiral. He always backs his people to the hilt.”
“That he does,” Amanda had to agree. “But doesn’t Congress have anything to say about the creation of new flag officers?”
“You might want to have a look at the authorization signatures on that rider.”
Amanda did so, then looked up again, trying to control the tremor in her voice. “The President and the Secretary of Defense?”
“How about that? It seems President Childress remembers what you’ve accomplished on his watch as well.” Arkady reached for the next envelope in the briefcase. “And now that you’re a retiree, you’re going to need a job so you won’t become a burden on the taxpayers.”
Amanda read through the new sheaf of documentation. It was an employment contract from the Galaxy Maritime Consortium, hiring one Amanda Lee Garrett as a merchant marine shipmaster at a very pleasant salary and benefit package.
“You’re also supposed to mail that contract in from here in Sydney. It’s also a technicality. You’re already on the payroll.”
Amanda frowned. “Galaxy Maritime Consortium. I don’t recognize the line.”
“Sure you do,” Arkady replied promptly. “Their personnel manager is an old navy buddy of your dad’s. He’s been trying to talk you into coming to work for their shipping firm for years.
Given the current state of affairs, you’ve accepted. Got it?”
“Understood. Is anybody going to notice that I don’t have merchant mariner’s papers, much less a master’s ticket?”
“Nope.” Arkady handed her the last fat envelope. It contained all of the professional
documentation she’d need for her new life. “You’ve been studying for your master’s ticket on the side for some time now. If you don’t remember doing it, somebody else will remember for you.”
Amanda took a rather unsteady breath. She knew that she’d already made the critical commitment, but having the paperwork in her hands took it all to another level. “Phantom” was rapidly gaining reality.
She crossed her legs, gathering the hardcopy onto her lifted knee. She took another wavering breath, but her voice was steady when she spoke. “Arkady, can I borrow a pen?”
