Wingmen (9781310207280) by Ensan Case Read Free Book Online Page A

hallway outside the ready room and
followed him into the squadron office. He made himself comfortable
in the padded armchair and lit a cigarette. Jack sat down and
buzzed for the yeoman, who appeared moments later, looking as
harried as ever.
    “What’s the
good word?” Higgins asked the yeoman, a little man with glasses,
named, predictably, Sweeney. Sweeney handed a stack of
correspondence to the skipper.
    “Nothing much
happening these days, sir,” he said to Duane.
    “Typed
error-free with two copies,” said Jack, giving a hand-written
letter to the yeoman. “Then knock off for the day.”
    “Yes, sir,”
said Sweeney, and he started for the door. Then he stopped and
said: “Scuttlebutt has it the Enterprise is headed for a yard period in
the States. Most likely Bremerton.”
    This was a good
piece of information. Not overly dramatic (like the previous week’s
rumor that Nimitz was heading for Tokyo again with all his
carriers) or improbable (like the more recent one that said the
Army was testing a fighter that could hit four hundred miles per
hour in straight and level). The thinking man would conclude that
if the brass could release a heavy carrier for a yard period, then
the next big push would not be for a while yet.
    “No word on Ironsides?” asked Higgins. Jack appeared to be working diligently but was
actually listening closely to what the yeoman had to say.
    “They’ve got
one of the main boilers torn all to pieces and the requisitions for
fresh meat haven’t even been begun yet. We couldn’t sail in less
than two weeks if we had to.”
    “Very
interesting,” said Higgins, looking absently into his own cloud of
smoke. Sweeney left and closed the door behind him. “Jack,” said
Higgins.
    “What’s on your
mind?” asked Jack, scratching away with a thick fountain pen.
    “Oh, nothing
much.” A smoke ring slipped out of Duane’s mouth and drifted
through the air over Jack’s head.
    “There must be
something.”
    “I was just
wondering when the hell you’re going to get in some serious flight
time on the new birds.”
    “Duane.” Jack
stopped writing and looked at his Executive Officer, whom he never
called by his first name in front of other people. “This entire air
group has just been reorganized. We just got new fighters. New
flight crews. New pilots. One is under arrest and three are
missing. Fitness reports are due tomorrow. That’s just the tip of
the iceberg. Don’t hound me about flying. When I get things squared
away, I’ll put some more time in. Until then, don’t worry, okay?”
Jack began writing again. Outside, the rain slackened and the
lightning and thunder moved off over the mountains.
    “Okay. I’m
sorry I brought it up.” Duane swung one leg over the arm of the
chair and began tapping his foot maddeningly against the side of
the desk.
    “Duane,” said
Jack, “is there anything else you want to discuss? I’m kind of
busy.”
    “I was just
wondering if you might like to take an evening off, you know, maybe
hit the beach, like we used to.”
    “As a matter of
fact, I was planning on leaving a little earlier tonight.”
    Duane’s face
brightened and he swung forward in his seat. “I know this place
downtown,” he said, “and it’s strictly off limits to the Army
pukes. They got a floor show where this broad really peels it
off.”
    “I was planning
on a few games of bridge with three men in the BOQ. You’re welcome
to come along if you like.”
    Higgins dropped
his foot to the floor and stood up heavily. “No thanks, Jack. I
don’t feel like cards.”
    “By the
way.”
    “Yeah.”
    “How’s Trusteau
in the air?”
    “Good. A little
cautious maybe, but he’s good. Maybe if he had a little instruction
from the top dog in the group…”
    “Mrs. Hawkins
is throwing a party next Saturday evening. I want six couples
besides myself to go along. Arrange that for me, will you?”
    “Sure,
Skipper.” Duane reached the