JAG: "Hail and Well Met"
Chapter Fourteen -
Animal and Meg's VOQ Suite, Marine Corps Married VOQ; MCB Quantico, Quantico, VA
Week-day mornings were always hurried and Monday was no less frantic as Animal and Meg strove to get themselves out thr door to be on their way to work; Meg to her office at JAG HQ and Animal to his first day as CO, VF-41.
"All ready, my Commander?" Meg leaned in, shoulder against his, affectionately nuzzling him, nose to nose. "Ready for your first day at the reins of the best fighter squadron in the United States Navy?"
Animal smirked at her. "I think so." He paused for a long moment. "Rattler left me a squadron tops in efficiency. I'm going to try to keep that going."
"That's always a good thing, isn't it, sweetheart?"
"Yeah, I don't want my boss pissed at me. CVW-12's air boss to be exact." Animal grinned. "I think he wants another Battle E".
"So which one does he want?" Meg was curious.
"Probably Command Efficiency". Animal paused, "…but then again he may want everything."
Meg gave her husband a wry smile, "I presume that's the logical guess."
Animal looked at his watch, "Yeah, looks like we need to get out of here if we want to be on time."
"Love you…" Meg murmured as she gave him a kiss as they both headed out the door.
"Love you too." was Animal's response as he headed for his Mustang.
It appeared as though it had been raining and the smell of wet grass and the venting of the asphalt served up an aroma that spoke of more precipitation to follow. Luckily it was still what one would consider the height of summer and not pressing on into late fall or there might have been a risk of the weather turning cold. The cold brought its own problems and as such it would bring along a host of expenses such as putting winter tires on the vehicle and making sure it was properly climatized for the rigors of winter driving. After all driving from MCB Quantico to Norfolk or toJAG HQ in Falls Church meant a three hour drive in either direction to reach their destination.
Meg had a propensity to have a bit of a lead foot so she could probably make the trip to Falls Church in two and a half. Animal on the other hand did his run at a leisurely pace; safety being his number one goal. He wanted to get to work in one piece. No doubt he fretted over his wife's innate ability to drive at a rate of forward momentum over a two dimensional road surface that appeared to be in excess of the forward velocity produced by the output of power of an X-15 rocket engine. It was also surprising she hadn't received more speeding tickets.
In fact Animal thanked his lucky stars that his beloved wife hadn't received more tickets or she would have had major fines to pay off. The Virginia Division of Motor Vehicles leveled a jaundiced gaze upon anyone who dared to flout their traffic rules.
0700hrs, Naval Air Station Oceana, Virginia Beach, VA
"Morning, sir!" Commander Kimber Benton greeted him.
"Morning, Kimber" Animal grinned as he knocked the dust off the soles of his highly polished black shoes. "Pretty easy drive out today."
"That's good, so, how's married life?"
"As well as married life can be, sharing a VOQ building with a gaggle of jarheads."
"Could be worse, sir…" Kimber grinned back at him, "If you had been married for eight to ten years, you'd have school-age children going into kindergarten. You might be fighting with a Gunny for the last sixty-four pack of Crayola."
Animal snickered. Marines and their dietary habits. At least they weren't eating garbage off the floors. Animal knew he wasn't being charitable. The Marine who Harm worked with had impeccable table manners even when presented with a bag of Beltway Burgers. Of course though, that was a close call.
Navy personnel oft said that they needed to keep Marines separated from the rest of the Navy. Just like you sequester undisciplined preschoolers from the rest of the student population. The analogy fit well, after all there were plenty of crayons in Preschool.
He gazed out the window of the hangar's offices and then asked, "So, what's on the agenda today?"
"2v2 training for the nuggets. 4v unknowns for the more experienced in our midst." Kimber tone was casual. As an experienced old hand and as the XO of the squadron now, she was in charge of overseeing the myriad duties that the CO had delegated to her.
"Well that ought to make for a fun day." Animal stated as he looked at the briefing outlines. "Scattered at eight, tops at fifteen; gonna be a warm one today. Some clearing over the water. But over-all; overcast." He nodded as he perused the METARS report. "Let's make hard deck ten. I don't want anyone going in."
Kimber nodded.
"You've got briefing." Animal informed her. "I gotta get status reports off to the Pentagon on our squadron readiness upon transfer."
"Sounds like you've got a fun day ahead."
"Tell me about it." Animal snorted making as if he turned to head into his office but headed for the little galley instead. They had, a small kitchenette area with a counter and a fridge. "Dang, nearly forgot my Pepsi."
"Yeah," Kimber grinned at him. "Gotta have that, don't wanna cranky CO now, do we?"
Animal raised an eyebrow, "most definitely not." He said as he retrieved his Pepsi along with a glass, three ice-cubes neatly arrayed.
Kimber heard him settle into his chair and eventually heard the familiar pop of the opening can of Pepsi as she smiled at the sound. Animal was a creature of habit and preferred to have his usual drink in the morning in order to kickstart his day. No one dared to take the CO's Pepsi cans in the fridge, unless they wanted a perturbed grouch. That was the only perceptible change from the transition in Commanding Officer from mCommander Dale Kinnick to Commander Toshio Nakamura. That and the little Medal of Honor blue flag on with white stars on the tabletop flag that shared its space with the United States flag and the UnitedStates Navy flag in a three flag base.
It was about ten minutes later that a young Lieutenant with an irritating grin entered his office, "Good morning, O esteemed Commander, sir."
Animal rolled his eyes. "What now, Burrows?"
"Well, I've been told by her Highness, the XO, that I lead 2v2s today?" Burrows commented.
"Yeah, so?"
"Who are we flying against?" Was Metalman's next question.
"According to what I can tell, it's VFC-21. DACT, they fly F-5s."
"So small, maneuverable, lethal. Got it."
"No going inverted and giving them the bird!" Animal growled.
"Awwww, rats, that was in the report?"
"CO's eyes only" Animal retorted. "Anyone else would've FNAEB'd your ass."
JAG Headquarters, Falls Church, VA, 1145hrs EST
Meg was busy with her latest case file when Mac popped in, "You taking lunch today? I just got Harm to take a break. You two are constantly over-working yourselves." She grinned as she casually tapped her fingernails against the doorframe as she leaned against it.
"I wish these incoming cases would give us a break." Meg replied, giving the Marine a wry look as she flipped her pen around her fingers. "So how's your case-load? Mac?"
"Two going to trial, one's a settlement and the other's an open shut case for custody, so I'll probably get another heaping armful tomorrow." She grinned, "So how's your husband enjoying command of his squadron?"
"Lots of fun. Asides from the heaping mounds of paperwork. He doesn't let things get out of hand. The enlisted know what's expected out of them and that they're held to the same standards as the commissioned officers. He plans to make mustangs out of some of them, I'm presuming." Meg smiled briefly, before making a notation in her file. "We probably won't be seeing too many cases out of VF-41 as far as needing JAG input."
"That's good to know considering how many cases come from the rest of the community." Part and parcel of the whole service life. There were always a few who flouted the rules and those few were targeted by command staff to be transferred out AFAO. Meg's husband conducted captain's mast and kept discipline internal within the squadron, no need to involve JAG unless absolutely necessary. And most times, she figured that her husband typically meted out punishments that were more severe than what JAG could mete out. Sixty day restriction to quarters when not on duty was considerably taxing to those who liked to party. Reduction in grade was also a weapon in Animal's disciplinary arsenal. Animal did not like to have to pull out the disciplinary measure but when he had to, he did, with awe-inspiring force. And thankfully, that cut down on the number of cases that JAG had to deal with, at least from his squadron.
Meg made a final notation, shut the folder, grinned at Mac and said, "well, let's get some lunch."
"Thank goodness…" Mac joked, "Thought my stomach was going to eat its lining."
Harm joined them not long after. "I need food." He announced as he sat down with his tray. Harm was a vegetarian so his fare on the tray did not have any meat. Meanwhile Mac and Meg on the other hand had what appeared to be the Navy's approximation of meatloaf on plates on their respective trays.
"Is that supposed to be meatloaf?" Harm asked with what appeared to be some considerable distaste.
"I think so…" Meg stated with an evil twinkle in her eye. After all if Harm was going to look askance at her dietary decisions, she was going to make him as uncomfortable as possible. "It appears to be sufficiently dead. Maybe tomorrow, I'll get the steak." Harm looked at her as if she'd just stated that she was about to murder a baby and eat it raw. Sanctimonious vegetarians.
"I've got a case involving a midair between an F-5F and an F-14, VF-211 Checkmates and VFC-26. Down at Oceana. RIO and Aviator ejected on the Fourteen, Backseater was the only one who managed to get out on the Five-Eff. Admiral wants you, Meg, on prosecution and Mac on defense. Mac, You're second chair on prosecuting while I lead." He informed them. "New case in today. and we need to head down there after lunch."
"Do I get a second chair? Or you tag-teaming me?" Meg raised an eyebrow in question.
"Yeah, Bud's riding along. This one's on the hot seat. We need to get on this case before a congressional committee gets wind and turns this into front page news."
"OK, guess that's gonna take up the rest of our afternoon." Mac sighed, "You aviators can never do things half-way, can you?"
"No points for second place, Mac." Harm just had to. The whole Navy was buzzing about Top Gun, the movie. And flight school was no different. Although a few years down the road and movie quoting students were starting to get on the instructors' nerves; and the instructors found an ingenious way to bring that to a screeching halt. You ended up sticking a buck or two in the quote jar if, Heaven forbid, a Top Gun movie quote escaped your lips.
"Maybe we can stop in and get dinner with my husband." Meg mused as they dug into their noon repast.
Since they were on a very tight schedule, they decided that their lunch would be a very short one so they could get on the road so as to not delay.
"I'd ordinarily take the Navy motor pool vehicle with you but I get the feeling that we may be down there for a night. And in that case I'll be going home with my husband; it'll save the Navy in lodging." Meg smirked at both Mac and Harm. "So I'm driving my Camaro." She finished.
Harm grinned at her, "Can't be away from him for one night, huh?" He asked.
"Nope, we are newlyweds after all." Meg informed him.
Mac poked Harm in the ribs. "See…told you the lovebirds won't quit for six months." She smirked at him.
Harm rolled his eyes. "I kinda guessed…". Meg and Mac looked at each other grinning.
Finishing up and placing their dishes and cutlery in the respective bins, they headed back upstairs to their offices in order to gather their things up for the trek down to Oceana.
1540hrs, Naval Air Station Oceana, Virginia Beach, VA
"ID, sir!" The Marine Corporal sentry at the gate asked as he extended his left hand, his right near his sidearm which was nestled by his thigh. The sentry looked alert and ready for anything.
"Good afternoon, Corporal." Harm and Mac showed their IDs and were ushered through. Meg had already been ushered through about fifteen minutes earlier as her Camaro had blown past them on the I-64 like Harm and Mac were standing still.
"Took you two long enough to get here." Meg eyed Harm with an irreverent smirk on her face.
Meanwhile Lieutenant Bud Roberts looked a bit worse for wear and was pale and sweating. Harm figured he'd have an extra passenger on the way back. Bud had indicated he would ride with LCDR Austin-Nakamura to keep their prosecution strategy confidential. Evidently Bud wouldn't be making that same mistake twice.
"He was debating the merits of Marine Class A Blues and Navy Dress Whites." Mac retorted with an equally irreverent smirk. Harm rolled his eyes. He was the one getting double-teamed.
VF-211 Checkmates Hangar
"Sir, the F-5F came out of the sun. It was near impossible to see him before we traded paint. We lost half our wing and I told Gray to tighten straps and punch us out." Lieutenant Commander Tom "Wildman" Niven answered as Harm grilled him on the particulars of the engagement. Having read over his dossier, it was clear that Lieutenant Commander Niven was an aggressive aviator. There had been several close calls noted in his file. According to Harm's opinion, Wildman had earned his callsign all too well.
"If you lost him in the sun, why did you not call no joy?"
"We would have angle on him once we cleared the sun off our five o'clock, sir. The fight was headed away from the sun."
"So if you'd had ten more seconds you would have been able to spot him. Lieutenant Commander, those rules of calling an immediate no joy on loss of sight exist for your safety in training missions as well as for the safety of others. They're meant to prevent mishaps such as this one." Harm knew that Meg would have his hide on this. There was mo way to defend LCDR Niven's failure to act.
The F-5F has continued to engage since he had the sun at his back with the target in front. However because the F-5F was in a dive straight towards the Tomcat clearly close enough to trade paint, this wasn't going to be as cut and dried as it appeared to be.
Base Hospital, NAS Oceana, Virginia Beach, VA.
"Something isn't adding up." Meg said to Bud. "I need to see the wreckage…". She lifted her phone to her ear. "…and I need to make a call. The WSO on the F-5F says that the F-14 pilot was overly aggressive and that only corroborates partially with what was said by the RIO and pilot of the F-14."
"So how are we going to determine who's lying, Ma'am?" Bud asked her.
Meg grinned widely, her expression suffusing her face in a glow, "It's lucky I married an F-14 naval aviator." She stated smugly. Bud thought there was a devious look in her face as she beamed.
"Are you going to drag him into this investigation? Ma'am?"
"No, I'm just learning a few parameters about the F-14 from someone that won't jeopardize this case." If she'd gotten particulars about F-14 performance from Rabb, he'd know exactly what she was up to.
"Ma'am?"
"Yes, Lieutenant Roberts."
"You're starting to sound more and more like Lieutenant Commander Rabb, ma'am."
Meg grinned, "Well, we gotta think like him to beat him." Her smile was incandescent.
Bud thought to himself, Commander Toshio "Animal" Nakamura was a very lucky man.
Meg dialed a number on her phone. It rang twice and was picked up. "Commander Nakamura".
"Sir, I need a favor". As much as she wanted to use an endearment to her husband, she, and he, were in uniform and as such were not able to do PDAs.
"What is it, Meg?" Animal's voice sounded curious.
"Can you rustle me up a helo and I need you to come with me to the crash site."
"You mean the one that happened with the Checkmates."
"I need your assessment on the site, sir… and access to the TACTS info on the engagement."
"Alright, let me see if I can get Commander Renquist on the line and see if he can second an SH-60 for us and a pilot. You have coordinates for the crash-site?"
"Yes, I'll meet you at your hangar, Lieutenant Roberts is with me." She turned to Bud, "With me, Lieutenant, we're making a visit to the Black Aces."
"Aye, Ma'am!"
VF-211 Hangar.
Harm could see Meg and Bud make a beeline towards the Black Aces hangar across the way. "Wonder what Meg's up to? Is she going to see her husband?"
Mac shrugged.
Harm heard a whop-whop of a SH-60F coming into land by the Black Aces hangar. And he slapped his thigh. "I knew it!"
"What?" Mac asked.
"She's going out to the crash site. She thinks there's something fishy going on!"
"How…".
"We need to get a bead on a helo too and inspect the crash-site before the Navy brings their tractors in to remove stuff."
The Crash-Site; TACTS Range 29
Animal and Meg looked in lock-step according to Bud as he watched the two officers assess the crash site.
"Do you think it was a high impact crash?" Meg asked her husband.
Animal wiped his brow shaking his head. "If the F-5F WSO said the pilot was diving, he'd have gone in nose first; wing ripped off or no. What I see is a low angle of attack, which meant he spun in, not indicative of a high speed impact nose-first at near 90 degrees, Mach 0.98. Wing to wing impact at high speed is like a hot knife through butter, your wings gonna get sheared off, cut straight through and it'll disintegrate from the impact. Hardly any lateral movement 'cause the speed's too great. He'd have gone in nose first. The F-5's nose cone would be buried in the ground so deep we wouldn't be able to get it out without an excavator. These guys could get this out with a pick and shovel in a couple hours."
"So he was lying." Meg said a grim look on her face. She was going to baste the three crew and fry them over a char grill.
"I don't think he was telling the truth. I think they were in a rolling scissors, got too close and traded paint, that and high AOA during maneuvering would impart enough lateral movement to initiate a spin. High speed dive would have ripped the wings off both aircraft and they both would have gone in." Animal looked at his wife grimly "Gut hunch?" He asked.
Meg nodded, "The explanation they gave came off a bit too contrived." She said, looking up to see another SH-60 approaching the site. "Oh, look…guess who finally arrived."
Animal looked where she was pointing. Harm and Mac were looking out the open door strapped into the helo. Meg waved at them with a beatific grin on her face.
When they landed and walked up, Meg smirked at Harm. "I'll see you in court. It looks as though you got three defendants." She said as she, Animal and Bud headed back towards their helo.
"Wait? What?" Harm looked like he'd been blindsided.
"Go look at the evidence." She gestured to the grisly tableau of broken Tiger II parts scattered around the impact hole. "See you back at base, Lieutenant Commander!" Meg replied as she, Animal and Bud got buckled and the helo wound up its rotors in prep to take-off.
Harm and Mac looked at each other. Harm said to Mac, "I dunno, Mac. Methinks we just got outmaneuvered."
Mac rolled her eyes.
She had a gut feeling that Meg was going to be a tough competitor in the legal arena and it was playing out that way - Meg would be in the courtroom seeking to prove her mettle against two of the toughest legal minds in the JAG Corps.
Harm was going to have to pull a rabbit out of his hat in order to be able to get a mark in the win column with this case. The lie told by the naval aviators as to the circumstances in which they made contact was going to put them all behind bars for a considerable length of time. She sighed, taking in the whole crash scene, "it's not going to be pretty, is it?"
"All I know is that the WSO got out, the aviator up front didn't and the F-14 made it back in one piece albeit with severe damage to the leading edge of the wing. Those are the facts. Mac, with the visible evidence we could glean from the Tomcat in the Checkmates' hangar. Let's take a good hard look at the evidence that Meg said she found. I knew she was going to find a way to ask her husband for his take on what happened." He stroked his chin for a long moment as he looked at the wreckage.
"What are you seeing?" Mac was looking at the still smoking wreckage of the rear engine and she turned her face towards Harm as he nodded.
"I'm seeing the same thing that Animal must've said to Meg…".
"…and what's that?"
"Somebody's lying." Harm took off his RayBans and stared at the horizon with the sun at twenty degrees tilting towards the horizon of the Virginia Smokies.
"Are you sure?"
"I know for sure…"
"There's airplane parts scattered all over the ground. How do you know for certain?"
"Because of the way the aircraft impacted the ground. We need to see the TACTs readouts and determine the attitude on impact with the other aircraft from the black box in order to ascertain just exactly what was going on." Harm said, "I'm sure our defendants are hiding something and I don't like surprises, especially ones that put us on the defensive."
"But aren't we the defense for these guys…" Mac pointed out. "By the way, wasn't Meg also going after those readouts?"
"Yes, she was and she's doing that for the same reason we're going to. Mac, we never ask a question we don't know the answer to and if we make sure we have our bases covered, we might be able to win a few points that may serve to bring a factor of reasonable doubt in the minds of the jury."
"And that might mean the difference between one year of confinement at hard labor versus ten to twenty." Mac nodded.
"Now you're seeing the big picture…" Harm grinned widely at her as he returned the sunglasses to his face. "We already know the prosecution is going to win this mainly because the defendants were trying to hide something and she's clearly got them pinned like a moth to a tack-board, now it's essentially trial and mitigation of sentencing."
"She's pretty darned good." Mac said admiringly. "I'm sure she's also going to be looking at the reports the Navy's mishap board produces as a result of their investigation."
"Yeah, she was my partner…no doubt she's going to be thorough." one couldn't miss the note of pride in Harm's voice as he looked at Mac who rolled her eyes again. "Taught her everything she knows." He said smugly, a wide grin; the corners of his mouth tugged upwards; his eyes disguised by the aviator sunglasses he wore. His gold wings on his khakis still visible in the deepening gloom of the late evening as the summer sun started setting.
Mac opened her purse and rummaged for a long moment.
"What? Mac?"
"Just trying to find something…"
"What?"
"A safety pin…"
"What for?"
"For the overwhelmingly over-inflated ego of yours…" Mac told him smugly.
TACTS Range Coordinator
"Ma'am, the Tigers' F-5F went into a five degree nose down according to telemetry readings off the TACTS Pod that it was outfitted with"
"I'm presuming the attitude before impact was consistent with an ACM maneuver known as a rolling scissors?" Meg zeroed in on the telemetry display.
"Yes, ma'am, according to the blackbox, that was recovered from the aircraft, we can ascertain what the aircraft was doing before impact."
"In this case there were two impacts: the one with the other aircraft and the one where the aircraft went into the ground." Meg looked over at Animal. "We're looking for the first impact and like you thought, it seems the crew was engaged in a ACM maneuver at the time of impact between the two aircraft. The blackbox data come back from the F-14 yet?"
"Yes, ma'am. We cordoned off the Tomcat and set our techs to work on extracting the data from the box."
"Good, let me know what you retrieve…"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"…before Lieutenant Commander Rabb asks for it!" Meg shot the TACTS range coordinator a look that brooked no dissension. "I will be the one to give the information to LCDR Rabb as I'm the one who originally determined the necessity for telemetry information from the black-box."
"Aye-aye, ma'am!"
She turned on her heel, "Sir, I think we're got the telemetry data to prove that the aircraft were in a situation where they were deliberately hazarded."
"I'll let you come to that conclusion, Lieutenant Commander Austin-Nakamura, Lieutenant Roberts. I think I'd better return to my own duties."
"Yes, sir!"
"Have you eaten?"
"Sir?" Lieutenant Roberts realized the Commander had turned back to them and was indicating a question aimed at Lieutenant Commander Austin-Nakamura.
"Have you eaten anything today?"
"Yes, sir." Damn military protocol, Meg thought.
"What did you eat?"
"Meatloaf".
"With hamburger I presume."
"Definitely Navy meatloaf, sir."
"Thank goodness." Animal looked over at her. "Has Harm ever mentioned his meatless meatloaf to you at any point"
"Not particularly often. Maybe once or twice. I've never actually partaken in that particular delicacy even though he offered. I'm not vegetarian and have no desire to be…". Meg was curious.
"If he ever offers again, refuse."
"Why is that, sir?" Bud piped up
Animal aimed a smirk at Lieutenant Roberts, "Lieutenant…any gastronomical invention that could cause a roach extinction is best kept away from your palate. Harm's meatless meatloaf would constitute a culinary misdemeanor under S 301 of the Food and Drug Act."
It was a close call as Meg barely kept from laughing out loud and just in time as Harm and Mac walked in catching the last sentence. "Are you dogging my famous meatless meatloaf, Commander Nakamura, sir?" His tone was formal yet there was a tone of jest in his voice.
"I'd say it was a gastronomical masterpiece…" Animal admitted then wound up for the zinger, "…for termites." It was hopeless, Meg lost her composure completely and burst out laughing as Animal drove the nail in. "However…the termites preferred the lumberjack special, Rabb." Animal snorted.
"What's that?" Harm despite the grievous insult to his gastronomical specialty, was curious.
"Two rotten cedar trunks and an Amanita Platter."
Bud started snickering at this but cut it off at a glance from Mac who proceeded to digest Commander Nakamura's menu quotation for an indeterminable moment then rather confused by the example of a termite's repast, asked, "But, sir? Aren't Amanita mushrooms poisonous?"
"You're getting the general idea, Major." Animal shot an evil look at Harm and snickered while Harm tried to look appropriately insulted.
"Lieutenant Commander Rabb," Meg informed him, "Both Lieutenant Roberts and I will accompany you into the TACTS centre and that way we can ameliorate any problems with the dissemination of TACTS data from the prosecution to the defense team."
Animal took that moment to excuse himself to head back to his squadron's hangar citing work to do and wrenches to chase around. Meg waggled her fingers acknowledging her husband's departure even if that went against military etiquette. They were all friends anyhow and the breach in protocol went un-noticed as there were other pressing matters to discuss.
"Agreed, counsellor". Harm replied to Meg's instruction, as she was lead prosecutor in control of the case, as Mac nodded. "As long as we get all the information there is on the table…to formulate our defense."
"Of course, Lieutenant Commander. I don't sandbag people." Meg informed him tartly.
Harm looked over at Mac, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, "…wait what?"
"A little birdie might have told me…" Meg smirked. Harm thought that smirk eerily resembled Animal's earlier. Was it true that married spouses start to mirror their significant other's mannerisms? Where did Meg get that information and why was he starting to feel like a duck in a shooting gallery?
Mac was doing an Oscar-winning impersonation of innocence personified.
Harm snorted, "Suure you're innocent…" he groused to no-one in particular, "Any other lovely tidbits, you mentioned to Lieutenant Commander Austin-Nakamura?" Mac kept silent, her lips twitching, an expression of mirth tautly held under the Marine discipline instilled by the Corps. Nothing was going to escape her lips. Chesty would be proud of her. Oo-ragh!
VF-41 Hangar
"Lieutenant Burrows, status, 107?"
"Up and ready, sir." Lieutenant Philip "Metalman" Burrows assumed the position of attention. "Maintenance logs and gripe-sheets accounted for and remedied. All systems check out as green, sir." As much of a wiseacre as Metalman was, as an Ensign and in his Lieutenant JG days, he'd straightened up and learned to fly right in terms of military courtesies, ceremony and heraldry. He was showing signs that he was going to become a leader in his own right.
"Good work, Burrows".
"Would never think of pulling your leg regarding Ops, sir. That's too important a matter to make jokes." Animal nodded at Metalman's assurance; he may have been a royal pain-in-the-ass regarding some things but he certainly knew when to be serious and any military operations and logistics matters required the utmost in concentration. Between all that and the fear of having the UCMJ dropped on his head.
Metalman toed the line - good.
"112 was down for flaps issues, right?"
"Yes, sir" Metalman flipped the page in the gripe-book to 112 so that the CO could take a look at the latest gripe-sheet for that aircraft. Metalman noted, "Lieutenant Commander Erickson said the sticking flap was as a result of a retaining screw being seated incorrectly and was at an angle with one-twenty-fifty of an inch exposed. In the case of such an application the screw has to be seated flush with the surface so that the flaps have unimpeded range of motion."
"Who was the crew-chief responsible for signing the bird up prior to this gripe?" Animal's face darkened and Metalman had an unpropitious feeling that things were not going to go well for the individual who signed 112 as up before the latest gripe. CO was not going to be happy with anything like this happening so early in his command tour.
The squadron CO was 39 which seemed a lofty age from the point where Metalman was sitting. The quickness that the CO jumped on the discrepancy and sought out what the root problem was made Metalman see just exactly what aspects of leadership were. It was also a matter of age and experience level that signified the differences between them. The maturity level and problem-solving ability as well as instructing junior officers on what needed to be done was innate, honed to a sharpened blade, in the older officer whereas in the junior officer those skills were still being developed. And with an ever-growing realization Metalman knew that the questions were being asked to find out who was responsible for the problem and would formulate the CO's response to whoever was responsible for this fiasco. That person was going to realize just how short of latitude they had in regards to screwing up something under the command tenure of Commander Toshio "Animal" Nakamura, Commanding Officer, VF-41 Black Aces.
Safety standards had been forced through the roof, even more so than during Raptor's tenure as CO. And Animal did not have to push to make that happen. At the podium during the change of command ceremony, he had stated his wish for the squadron and most rushed to do exactly that.
As CO, Animal had never had to raise his voice. Bellowing at the top of one's lungs did not serve any purpose other than to mark you as a martinet; there were other ways to get one's point across - a cold cutting denunciation of one's failings as a serviceman served well enough.
When they were done going through the down gripes and how the crew chiefs had dealt with those gripes, Animal looked over at the Lieutenant.
Burrows immediately acknowledged the commander without being spoken to, "Yes, sir?"
"Lieutenant, have Chief Kendrick, AM3 Barnouli and Seaman Malanchuk in my office; oh six hundred." Burrows noted the ice in the commander's voice. This was not going to go well for the three.
"Yes, sir!"
"Lieutenant Burrows, your duty as assistant department head for the maintenance division is to stay on top of these matters and bring any discrepancies from standard operating procedure to my attention, is that clear?"
"Aye, sir!" Metalman snapped to attention. This was a reprimand, informal though it may be. A non-punitive measure made to a subordinate who may have been found lacking in order to correct his bearing and set him on the right course without doing damage to his personnel file. And Metalman knew it.
Animal did not have to say get on it as his quiet request was enough to start a chain reaction. Things would get done.
In the Navy, the request of a superior officer was to be interpreted as a direct order as long as the request was lawful, not violating the Uniform Code of Military Justice. Metalman would notify the three who would present themselves to the squadron commander at oh six hundred hours the following morning. By that time Animal would have had BuPers process an administrative transfer to get the three out of the squadron.
A mistake of one twenty-fifth of an inch would not look like much to someone looking in on NAVAIR from the outside (the civilian world) but the military ran on strict adherence to procedure and safety protocol. And when it came to aircraft safety insofar as aircraft control systems a screw-head not seated correctly could cause any moving parts to jam up, such as the flaps in this case thus cascading a problem in the jammed flap causing uneven airflow over the wing resulting in lift being lost or in the case of a taileron (the F-14 has no ailerons) or spoiler jam cause the aircraft to uncontrollably roll and depart controlled flight potentially putting the lives of the aircrew and persons on the ground at risk.
And it had to be said that the CO would not allow any laxness to permeate the hallowed halls of his command station.
Metalman knew he'd dodged a bullet. As he was the assistant department head , he was responsible for the fiasco along with Lieutenant Commander Sam Erickson. Metalman was not privy to the contents of the personnel jackets of the three who were going to be seeing a very aggrieved CO the next morning. However he was well-aware that the three must have been reprimanded officially at some point in their posting here thus reaching the end of Animal's patience with them; more importantly, the end of their rope.
Colloquially, they were given just enough rope to hang themselves and by their own actions controlled either their continued existence career-wise or their inevitable demise.
Animal, with a curt nod to Metalman, had departed the hangar to return to the command offices.
Metalman noticed that there had been rumors circulating the enlisted ranks that Command Master Chief (CMCPO) Davey Ryan was reputedly turning in his papers for retirement. The expectation was the next in line was Master Chief Petty Officer (MCPO) Leon Trebalos was going to take over as squadron command master chief upon CMCPO Ryan's departure from command staff.
MCPO Leon Trebalos was a hard-charger by reputation who did not condone laxness much like his predecessor. Strict adherence to proper military courtesies permeated the Master Chief. Many a young wet-behind-the-ears nugget ensign reportedly had crossed the tracks of Master Chief Trebalos, mistakenly calling the MCPO "sir" only to be told "It's not sir, sir…I work for a living" addressed to the higher ranking miscreant in a respectful tone yet delivering the verbal equivalent of administering a cuff across the ears to the unobservant young butter-bars.
It was understandable that the youngsters would be rather confused after being force-fed a whole crash-course on military customs, heraldry, courtesies and decorations. Their minds reeling with unorganized data would invariably go into data lock; irretrievable data-loop and Error 404 Brain Does Not Compute then default to "khakis equals officer" whilst plodding along the naval air station pathway and seeing the Chiefs in khakis, letting out a "sir" before their brains could catch up with their vocal sound emitting orifice.
Chiefs having gone through the meat-grinder of enlisted service life before landing in the hallowed goat-locker tended to chafe at being mistaken for cake-eating, pampered officers who were accorded their commission after four years of classes and a paper degree.
Ensigns were accorded the respect due their rank and nothing beyond that. They hadn't earned the respect of experience yet. They were still coneheads with no experience outside of their four years of officer training.
The officers who commanded respect from the Chiefs were self-evident from the contents of their rack - their been there done that. It was those colorful ribbons that were awarded that showed a physical representation of the career an officer had.
Their CO was one who instantly commanded respect without saying a word. The Chiefs looked at the ribbons on his rack and knew instantly that this commander was not someone who took his responsibilities to his men and women under his command lightly. They did not give the blue ribbon with white stars on his rack to just any show of bravery. The Medal's criteria was distinguished himself conspicuously by gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty.
And their squadron commander as an O-4 had waded into a firefight to rescue a downed aircrew on top of a North Korean numbered hill single-handedly while directing the SEAL Team sent in to retrieve the crew to get themselves back to the helo while he held off the North Korean charge up the hill. The Chiefs knew this man was not going to spend their lives needlessly. This was respect earned.
VF-41 Black Aces Command Offices,
"Commander Benton,". Animal called out as he strode into the office. Kimber poker her head up at the hail. "Personnel files for Chief Allan Kendrick, AM3 Travis Barnouli, Seaman Kander Malanchuk, see me in my office, Commander as soon as you retrieve those files."
"On it, sir!" The sir was acknowledgement for the station of squadron commander not the rank as both Kimber Benton and Animal were of equal rank as O-5s
Kimber traced her steps to the CO's office upon retrieving the asked-for files.
"Shut the door behind you." Animal said quietly as Kimber entered, "Take a seat" when Kimber had finished shutting the door and taken two steps towards the desk preparing to stand at attention, catching her off-guard while her brain struggled to catch up. Kimber did as he commanded and looked over at her CO.
Animal paused for a long moment, staring at her for a long moment; no emotion visible on his face. After an indeterminable moment, he let out a sigh reaching out for the three folders in Kimber's hand, perusing each folder before he spoke again, "I'm bringing up captain's mast for the two junior sailors - the wrenches and I'm asking the chief to submit his retirement papers."
Kimber was shocked. Chief Petty Officer Allan Kendrick was a good sailor. Having grown up in the Bronx, he had enlisted at the age of 17 with parental permission just so he could stay out of the influence sphere of the gangs; namely the Irish Ducky Boys. Kendrick was hard-working, not prone to cutting corners, he'd earned his gold hash marks with exemplary conduct but this single mistake was the first and only mistake he'd done. But it was also a career-killer of a mistake. Signing off the up-sheet was a clear sign that the crew-chief had inspected the work done by the wrenches and personally certified the aircraft as ready to return to front-line service. Signing the sheet without inspecting the work done was a court-martial offense under Article 92 of the UCMJ.
After all Chief Kendrick: a) had certain duties b) knew or reasonably should have known of the duties, c) was willfully, or through neglect or culpable inefficiency, derelict in the performance of said duties.
…and that could not go unpunished.
"Sir?"
"We might have lost 112 if it weren't for Crew Chief Haynes who was looking over the gripe sheets for the down birds going back to the line. He got suspicious about the perfunctory up form on 112 and decided to give it a look-see. He was the one that found the unseated screw. I want Chief Petty Officer Martin Haynes written up for the Navy Achievement award for his initiative or we might have lost that airframe and a crew on top of it." Animal tapped the hands free on the phone and the voice of CMCPO Ryan essayed from the speaker…
"What can I do for you, sir?"
"Command Master Chief, would you bring me in the file of Chief Petty Officer Martin Haynes." Animal requested.
"Aye, sir!"
Five minutes later and the file was on his desk and the Command Master Chief was back to his desk, the door closing behind him.
Animal rested his head against the palm of his left hand perusing the file nodding to himself as Kimber watched him. "Twenty eight years in, up for his Senior Chief's exam. I want him to take it in three month's time. Then take over lead of the enlisted wrenches in the maintenance department." Animal closed the file and picked up AM3 Barnouli's and Seaman Malanchuk's files. "These two wrenches are out of here." He looked over at Kimber with a grim countenance stating, "I'm delegating you the responsibility of informing BuPers of the situation that requires them be aware of my out-processing these two from our squadron and to notify their detailer that the two will need a new posting within the parameters of the needs of the Navy. I refuse to have them return here. The Black Aces is not a location for anyone who cuts corners on quality of work. I'd prefer these two to never work in NAVAIR maintenance ever again, but that isn't my call. BuPers can figure out where they fit according to their needs as long as it isn't back here and make that abundantly clear, XO."
"I'll get on that right away, CO. Sir, about Chief Kendrick. Is he being processed for Article 15?" Kimber paused for a long moment, "He's almost at thirty."
"Three months." Animal stated looking at the Chief's file. "I want to keep it an Article 15 non judicial punishment and not have to send it up the line to general courts-martial."
"That's not going to go well for him financially, is it?"
Animal rubbed his temples letting out a deep frustrated sigh, "…one of the tough breaks of command." His reluctance to destroy the long-standing career of a good man who only slipped up once was evident in every pore of his posture, "Chief Kendrick made a costly error. He signed off on a down-gripe repair sheet without first inspecting the work done then he compounded that mistake by signing 112 as certified return to operational service. XO, it was his signature on the sheet and he knows the consequences of such an action and the fall-out that could potentially happen." He looked at Kimber directly, "I don't want to do this." He shook his head looking towards to the window of his office watching the darkening sky. "But the severity of his error requires action…"he breathed heavily, the burden of command heavy on his shoulders.
He and Chief Kendrick had a long history in the Black Aces and they had a mutual respect for one another, but Animal was now the commanding officer and not the fresh-faced lieutenant JG he was when he'd first reported to the squadron from FRS (fleet replacenent squadron) fresh from his initial flight training in the F-14 Tomcat. In other words, he was canning a long-time friend and squadron-mate. The wrenches were just as much a part of VF-41 as the aircrew were.
"What choice do I have?" The plaintive question marked a culmination point to a 17 year relationship of aircrew and maintainer, "There's no satisfaction in this and, god, I wish there was another way, so I'm giving him an out; his resignation. And god, I hope he's smart enough to recognize the choice he has. Either he accepts the fact that he has to tender his immediate resignation or I have to bring the full weight of the UCMJ under Article 92 Failure to Obey an Order under section a) Violation of or failure to obey a lawful general order or regulation: c)Dereliction in the Performance of his Duties. And he could be looking at a bad conduct discharge, confinement for six months and loss of all pay and allowances. I don't want to have to do that but I have to as a matter of due course."
"It's going to be tough on him financially since I don't know what his financial situation is. And that three months could make or break his financial situation." Kimber stated.
"Now do you see the position I'm in?" Animal looked at her. "If he accepts the resignation he's stripped of his duties on the maintenance, and forced into administrative duties awaiting an out-processing cycle which will use up the three months it takes to meet his thirty years retirement pay before he separates from the Navy and qualifies for the honorable discharge. If he chooses to fight it, he could lose everything."
Kimber looked sympathetically at her CO understanding she was next in line for his chair and she would be having to make these same kinds of decisions in the command slot. Animal looked haggard. He truly did not want to do this to a man that had given so much to the defense of their country.
But Chief Kendrick had made a mistake, a costly one that could have resulted in the loss of a much needed airframe, cost the lives of two airmen and perhaps countless others if the hypothetical had happened and 112 had gone down in a populated area. As it was the quick and intuitive actions of Chief Haynes had prevented the hypothetical from occurring and now Chief Kendrick was on the hot seat as the senior NCO involved in this fiasco.
"I'm going to assign him advisory counsel to inform him of his options." Animal said finally after yet another long silence, "…and to highly suggest that he take the offer on the table as I do not want to have to refer the matter to the Judge Advocate General's office." Kimber realized Animal was serious and from what she could tell, this Chief's case ticked off nearly all the Article 92 pre-requisites for a conviction if pursued in the military court-martial process. It would result in a BCD for the Chief and hamper him getting a job on the outside as well as stripping him of all his pay and allowances. Kimber felt sorry for the Chief even without knowing the extent of the history that her CO and the Chief shared. Chief Kendrick had always been around VF-41 as long as she'd been there. And she felt a touch of annoyance towards the Chief for making her CO have to do something that it was clear he did not want to do but under the regulations required serious mistakes to be punished. The Chief was going to lose a thirty year career in the United States Naval Service and Animal was going to have to be the one to dispassionately pull the trigger on the Chief to kill that career.
Chief Allan Kendrick up until this misstep had a flawless career, a career of twenty nine years, three months short of thirty. Kimber sensed that in offering Chief Kendrick an out, Animal was tendering an old friend a mercy who had nary a bad conduct write-up to his name, who had earned his gold chevrons, rocker and honorable service hashmarks and he was trying to save his friend's retirement pay and honorable discharge by asking for the chief's retirement rather than sending the case up the line.
The look on Animal's face was dark, "Make no mistake,,XO, this mercy extended will not preclude me from referring the matter to JAG if he refuses to go quietly. I'm doing this to preserve what honor he has left". His tone was hard and she knew the CO would make the tough call if Kendrick refused to take the deal and resign. And Kimber hoped to hell that Chief Kendrick took the offer and quietly tendered his resignation. "I'm going to have to make the JAG aware that I am handling this situation in house". Kimber nodded as Animal picked up the phone again, dialed the JAG office line, tapping the speaker phone and the sound of the ringtone filled the office.
"Good evening, This is the office of the Judge Advocate General, Petty Officer Tiner speaking, what can I do for you?"
"Petty Officer Tiner, Commander Nakamura, I need to speak with Admiral Chegwidden. Would he be still in the office?"
"Yes,,sir! One moment, sir". Music filled the air as Animal was placed on hold. It was about five minutes later as there was a click and Rear Admiral (upper half) AJ Chegwidden's Texas accent filled the speaker,
"So, what can I do for you, Commander?" The admiral asked.
"Sir, I have a Chief in need of advisory counsel, preferably the JAG investigators that you currently have on station right now."
The admiral's tone was curious, "What's going on?"
"Sir, I don't want or need this matter to go to trial." Animal explained, "We are talking about a Chief with thirty years in rate, a veteran of the Naval Service, gold chevrons, rocker and hashmarks, nary any bad conduct writeup, his record was exemplary…" he paused and the Admiral jumped in…
"I'm sensing a but here…explain."
Animal sighed, "The chief made a mistake, a bad one…" He explained the whole situation to the admiral.
Finally after a long silence. "It was good that you consulted me, Commander. Ordinarily, I would have this matter brought to tribunal, however in deference to your Medal of Honor, I feel the matter would be better served quietly dispensed with in-house. I'll notify Rabb, Mackenzie and Austin-Nakamura that they are to head to your office post-haste. When is mast?"
"Oh six hundred tomorrow, sir. Both the AM3 and the Seaman are being removed and processed out of my squadron back into BuPers hands. Both are assigned currently to Maintenance but have had their duties suspended. I'm giving the Chief a choice: immediate tender of his resignation to save his pay and allowances. Because if he doesn't agree to the matter I'm going to have to take this to a general courts-martial; charges under Article 92."
"That's a pretty serious charge and one that befits the offense. Ordinarily JAG would claim jurisdiction over this matter but, I'm certain you are well aware of that. And I'm trusting you to handle the matter as you see fit instead of dumping this on our doorstep like other commands."
"Thank you, sir". Animal replied.
"One more thing, Commander".
"Aye, sir!"
"I sure hope that chief of yours has the good sense to take that life preserver you're throwing him."
"Yes, sir…". Kimber and Animal looked nervously at each other.
"…because if it has to come up here…" Chegwidden stressed, "He'd better pray to every deity in the known universe and then some…" he finished ominously, "because I will sink him." and hung up. The dial tone buzzing in the speaker formed a malignant counterpoint as Animal muttered quietly.
"It's not going to go well for him…".
"I think Harm, Mac and Meg are going to have their hands full…" was Kimber's only laconic comment.
Naval Air Station Oceana Gateway Inns Lobby
Meg grinned at Harm, Mac and Bud as they sat in the lobby of the Navy managed inn for visiting officers.
"This case looks like it's going to be an interesting one." Meg looked at her phone with a curious expression. "Usually my husband calls before he leaves base. I haven't received a call from him at all."
Just then a call came in on Harm's phone, "It's the Admiral." And returned to the call. "Yes, sir… we just checked into the Gateway Inn, sir and I was just talking with Lieutenant Commander Austin-Nakamura. You want us to proceed to Commander Nakamura's office right now, sir?" He paused, looking at Mac and Meg as Meg gathered her briefcase and her things as did Mac. "Aye-aye, sir."
"What is it?" Mac asked.
"Case coming out of VF-41. To be handled in-house. Animal said he needed advisory counsel only. Looks like we're gonna have a late night."
Office of the Commanding Officer, VF-41 Black Aces
Animal looked up as a knock on the door preceded the door opening, "Come in?" Animal commented wryly.
"Ma'am, sir…" Mac poked her head in the door acknowledging the fact that Commander Benton, Animal's XO was also there.
"I see the attorneys I requested have arrived." Animal indicated as Lieutenant Commanders Rabb and Austin-Nakamura (Animal's wife) followed the Marine Major in the door. "shut the hatch." He said as Rabb hastened to comply by closing the door, "take a seat" Mac and Meg sat down while Harm pulled in one of the extra chairs by the wall to the desk.
"So Admiral Chegwidden briefed us on the matter. You don't want this to go to trial?" Harm queried, "Isn't three attorneys a bit of overkill?"
"You haven't met Chief Kendrick yet." Animal informed him. "The Chief has a reputation for being set in his ways."
Harm read that as stubborn cranky old goat. He nodded.
"I asked for advisory counsel so that he has legal counsel for the captain's mast that is being undertaken tomorrow. " Animal continued. "His mistake could have cost VF-41 a much-needed airframe, potentially an aircrew and if the hypothetical situation deteriorated into the airframe digging a hole in a populated area in Virginia Beach, there would be civilian casualties," he let out a frustrated breath and brought his hand open palm down on the desk. "I don't have a choice. As much as I want to ignore this mistake, I can't. I don't want to ask a good man to turn in his retirement papers but this is a mistake I cannot overlook. I have no choice but to end his career. The UCMJ demands that I demand his resignation or send it up and let you guys sink his career under general courts-martial." He paused and looked at Harm with a hard expression. "Those are my two choices considering the error of this magnitude." He paused for a long moment and stated, pain in his voice, "I've known the Chief since he was a AM2 and I was a fresh faced JG just in from FRS. It gives me no joy to do this. I'm asking you three…to convince him. Make him accept the deal that is on the table. Make him understand the choices he's facing tomorrow at Captain's mast. And that I have to send this up the line if he refuses and decides that he wants judgement under general courts-martial." He turned to face the dark window. "I can't protect him from the fallout if he chooses the latter." Animal's face looked like a man who was being forced to pull a weapon on a longtime friend. "Just let him know the consequences of not heeding the request to retire quietly."
"Understood, sir". Harm stated.
Animal nodded, "Dismissed…".
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