FIRE ON HIGH
“Fire On High” is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. All characters and settings copyright Tigermark 2003-2004 unless otherwise noted. Request permission before using them, please.
The character Anatol Altaisokova is my name for a character copyright Max Blackrabbit, and appears in this story with his permission.
Matt Barstock and Intermountain Charter © Silver Coyote. See their story HERE.
Chapter 8
BOARD OF INQUIRY
Alex looked at the screen on the new PC that had been installed in his office two days ago. It was already proving itself a great tool, as most of the paperwork for Scatcat and his mission for the next day had been done on it, cutting the time needed for the task nearly in half. He’d been able to prepare and send the documents directly to their destinations instead of sending them by mail or courier. He was now checking on the weather right there in his office, a definite advantage in planning the actual flight. They would have the conformal fuel tanks that fit neatly under the F-15’s wing root and caused little extra drag mounted, but there would still be two midair refuelings during the almost 12 hour flight.
He was checking the winds aloft forecast for any changes, his tail idly twitching at the tip behind his chair, when the phone rang.
“312th Fighter Squadron, Lt. Col. O’Whitt,” Alex said as he brought the pawset to his ear.
“Col. O’Whitt, this is Major General Charles Boyd, may I talk to you for a few minutes?” the voice on the phone said.
Alex’s ears perked up and he unconsciously sat up straighter in his chair. He recognized the name from the documents he’d received about his brother’s crash.
After a second, he replied, “Yes sir! What can I do for you, General?”
The General sighed and said, “At ease, Colonel. Officially, this call never happened. I have the sad duty of being in charge of the investigation into the crash that killed your brother.”
Alex took in the General’s words, thinking, “What now?” After a second he said, “Yes sir, I understand. What can I do for you?”
“First of all, let me offer my condolences for your loss. Everything in your brother’s record says he was a first-class pilot and officer,” General Boyd said.
“Thank you, sir,” Alex said, and then waited for the General to continue, still wondering why he had called.
After a short silence, General Boyd continued, “Colonel, the reason I called was to see if you were coming to the Investigation Findings Presentation on Friday.”
“Yes sir, I’ll be there. My CO and I are ferrying two F-15’s Stateside tomorrow for some upgrades at Langley,” Alex replied, still puzzled by the call.
“That would be Scatcat Higgins, correct?” General Boyd said.
“Uh, yes sir, that’s him,” Alex said, becoming more curious about the point of the call by the second.
“I remember him. Tall lion, good pilot and strategist.”
“Yes sir, ah, sir?” Alex said.
“Yes Colonel?” General Boyd replied.
“You didn’t call to talk about Col. Higgins or my travel plans, did you,” Alex said evenly, stating a fact rather than asking a question.
After a short pause, General Boyd said, “No, I didn’t, Colonel. I called because I was concerned you might misinterpret our findings.”
Alex’s mind raced at that, but he quickly decided to hear the General out before saying anything about what he knew.
“Why would I do that? Is there some question about what happened?” Alex asked warily.
“No, no questions. The evidence is clear that the main cause was systems failure. I just wanted to reassure you that there will be no hint of pilot error shown on your brother’s part.” General Boyd said quickly.
Alex let out a silent sigh, glad to hear that at least that part of it wasn’t going to be against Jason.
“That’s good to hear, General, but then why would I misinterpret your findings?” he asked.
“Because we won’t be listing a reason why your brother flew into IMC with failed instruments, and some might see that as casting blame on him,” the General said hesitantly.
Alex had braced himself for the answer, and although part of him raged at the idea that his brother might be blamed by some while his CO walked away from it without the truth of his involvement being known, he kept a tight clamp on his response. If the General could have seen him, the chow would have been chilled by the cold ice blue Alex’s eyes turned when he was holding down his emotions. He quickly reached a decision on how he would proceed.
“I see,” Alex said flatly, “General, I’ll be frank. You may do as you see fit, but carefully consider the safety of the other pilots, especially the younger ones who look to their commander’s judgment to help keep them safe.”
Alex heard the General catch his breath. He waited for the chow’s response.
“I take it you, ah, have the full circumstances of the crash?” General Boyd finally said.
“Yes sir, I’m working with the same information you are,” Alex paused, and then continued, “I’m not going to raise any ruckus at the presentation, but I will send the information I have on to the Flight Safety office and the IG, if need be. I know it won’t bring Jason back, and I’m not looking for vengeance, but if it might save another young officer from a similar fate, then I’ll do what my conscience demands.”
“You realize that the decision on how to handle the matter will be out of my paws?” General Boyd said with a resigned sigh.
“Yes sir, I know that will be left up to the Commanding Officer,” Alex replied, still wary of what the General would do.
General Boyd actually sounded relieved as he said, “Thank you, Colonel, you’ve cleared up the matter for me. I don’t think there’ll be any problem with the final report.”
Alex replied evenly, “Thank you sir, that’s good to know.”
“Colonel, I’ll see you Friday. Have a safe flight over,” General Boyd said, signaling that the conversation was at an end.
“I will, General. Thank you for discussing this with me,” Alex said, his eyes regaining a measure of warmth as the anger he’d been suppressing dissipated. General Boyd closed the connection without further comment.
Alex hung up the pawset and sat back, steepling his fingers in front of his muzzle as he thought. The call had surprised him and now he was wondering if he’d said too much.
“Ah well,” he said to himself, “It’s done now. Maybe, if some young pilot makes his twenty because I spoke up about Mastifson, Jason won’t have died in vain.”
Alex could still feel the guilt he had felt when Jason had died, no matter how much he told himself there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. He had thought at length about it, and had finally decided it was survivor’s guilt. Something inside him insisted that it wasn’t fair that perennial bachelor Alex was still here when Jason had been taken from so many that loved and needed him.
Alex decided he needed to talk it out with someone, so he shut down his computer and walked out of his office and down the hall. He turned into a doorway under a sign that said ADMIN. He stepped up to a counter and, seeing the head of that section, called out.
“Hello Mrs. Steiner!”
The badger looked up, and upon seeing who was there, smiled as she looked over her glasses.
“Hello Colonel O’Whitt,” she said in a precise German accent, “What may I do for you?”
She had started to get up, but Alex motioned her back to her seat. Mrs. Steiner was somewhere between forty and a thousand years old, depending on who was speculating, but he was pretty sure she was older than him.
“No use adding to her daily laps,” Alex thought, but what he said was, “Keep your seat, please. I just need to talk to Sc—, ah, Colonel Higgins.” Mrs. Steiner didn’t approve of using personal call signs around the office, so most everyone who had any sense refrained from using them around her.
“Just a second, I’ll see if he’s busy,” Mrs. Steiner replied, picking up the pawset of her phone. After a second or two she said, “Colonel O’Whitt to see you, sir.” Another brief pause, and then she said, “Thank you sir, I’ll send him right in.” She looked up at Alex as she hung up the phone and said, “Go right on in, Colonel.”
“Thank you,” Alex said cordially as he stepped past the counter and headed for the office door at the back of the room. Once there he knocked and waited for a response, observing military courtesy as always.
“Come,” Alex heard Col. Higgins muffled voice say from inside the office.
Alex opened the door and walked in. Closing it behind him, he walked up to the desk, stood at attention, and saluted.
“Sir, Lieutenant Colonel O’Whitt wishes to report that the CO here is a mangy ol’ lion who couldn’t see a bogey if it was right in front of him,” Alex said, straight-faced but with a twinkle in his eye. He always enjoyed bantering with Scatcat, and he felt it would help him keep from tensing up too much as he talked to the lion.
Scatcat eyed him, one ear twitching, and then he grinned and said good-naturedly, “And the XO is a crazy ol’ tiger who couldn’t outfly my granny. At ease, Ice, have a seat. What’s up?”
Alex flipped his tail to the side and sat down, saying, “I wanted to talk a little. I just got a rather unusual phone call.”
Scatcat’s expression grew more serious as his grin faded.
“Oh? Who from and about what?” he asked, putting down the pen he was holding and leaning forward to listen.
“Do you know a General by the name of Boyd?” Alex asked.
“Yes, I served under him for a year in
“That’s him,” Alex said, “He just called me. He’s in charge of the investigation into Jason’s crash.”
Scatcat looked Alex in the eye, one eyebrow arched, trying to gauge from his expression the outcome of the surprise call. His eyes narrowed slightly as he realized once again how the tiger got the call sign “Ice.”
“That’s highly unusual,” Scatcat began hesitantly, “Anyone on the inquiry board usually steers clear of any contact whatsoever with anyone interested in the outcome.”
“That was my first thought. I can’t figure out why he called,” Alex said, his expression slowly changing from icy neutral to puzzled, “He could have left what he had to say until the presentation. It’s almost as though he wanted me to call him on it.”
At Scatcat’s questioning look, Alex related all the details of the call. When he had finished, Scatcat took a breath and let it out slowly before continuing.
“Ice, I’m not sure, but it sounds to me like the General was suffering from a guilty conscience. He’s being pressured to keep Mastifson’s name out of it, and he was looking for a good reason to go against that pressure. He was hoping to either be assured it wouldn’t matter if he let Mastifson off, or have a good reason why he had to include him.”
Alex now frowned slightly, the tip of his tail twitching just behind his left arm.
“And I just gave him the excuse to do what he wanted to do and should have done anyway?” he asked.
“It appears so, but by keeping your cool then and doing the same at the presentation, you’ll make a hard target for either Mastifson to hit with anything. Keep that famous icy-calm demeanor on Friday and I think things will work out fine,” Scatcat said, trying to reassure Alex.
Alex gave a rueful grin, saying, “Seems to be what I do best, so it won’t be a problem.”
Scatcat now smiled in full, saying, “I have no doubt. Now, is everything ready for tomorrow?”
Alex smoothly shifted gears into official mode and said, “Nearly. I have two more documents to approve and send, and everything will be done. The weather looks all right, but we may have to shift altitudes just past the Azores to keep out of the muck and turbulence.”
“Good,” Scatcat said. He smiled widely, saying, “Well Ice, you’ll have to find your own entertainment for the weekend. Chloe has a layover in Charlotte, so I’ll be heading up there on Saturday morning.”
Alex returned the smile. Chloe was Bart Higgins golden-eyed lioness wife. She flew for a commuter airline, basing out of Florida where she maintained a steady home while Bart was gone.
“Is she still planning to come to Langley when you move?” Alex asked.
“Yep, she is. You know, a lot of higher command looks at a spouse’s involvement, so she said she’d come play Suzy Officer’s Wife for a while. We’ve got plenty in the retirement account to cover the loss of income, so she’s looking forward to it,” Scatcat said with a faraway look in his golden eyes and a smile on his muzzle.
The mention of Langley reminded Alex of the work he still needed to finish, so he stood up to leave.
“Thanks for the talk, Boss. I’d better get back to work or we won’t be going to Langley tomorrow,” he said, preparing to salute.
Scatcat flipped a casual salute before Alex could, saying, “Fine, Ice. I’ll stop by after lunch to go over the flight plan with you.”
Alex gave a lopsided grin and said, “Sure thing, Boss.” He then turned and left the office.
As Alex left, Scatcat’s smile slowly faded to a slight frown.
“I just hope you haven’t stirred up the hornets too much, my friend,” he muttered to himself as he returned to his work.
# # #
“Contact,” Alex called on the radio to the KC-135 Stratotanker he now was connected to. The light on his instrument panel told him that the refueling boom from the big four engine flying gas station was locked into the receptacle along the spine of his F-15 behind him.
“Copy contact, Eagle Two, the gas is going,” came the reply from the Boom Operator in the tanker that flew a scant thirty feet above. Alex could see the face of the boomer, a meerkat by appearance, clearly in the window he worked from in the Boeing’s tail. The tanker was from the Arkansas Air National Guard, and the meerkat’s voice carried a soft southern drawl.
In a little less than two minutes, the required amount of fuel had been transferred. The meerkat, an enlisted fur with the rank of Technical Sergeant, was concentrating on his customer so close below that he barely noticed the backdrop of the Western Atlantic Ocean some 25,000 feet below.
He shut off the fuel flow and called, “Ah, okay Eagle Two, you’re full. Thanks for shopping with us.”
“Copy full, Market Two Five, Ice says thanks. Ready for disconnect,” Alex replied.
“Eagle Two, Market Two Five, disconnect . . . now. Boomer says you’re welcome,” came the reply from the meerkat.
After a soft “thunk” Alex watched the boom lift up away from him. He dropped back and away and slipped over to rejoin Scatcat Higgins’ F-15 in formation. They watched the big tanker bank gracefully away onto a new heading while they raced the Westering sun toward the
“Ice is with you, Scatcat,” Alex called on the ship-to-ship.
“Copy Ice, back up to 600 knots, then,” Scatcat replied.
Alex nudged the throttles forward and kept locked on his CO’s wing as the scattered clouds and white-capped waves passed by far below. They were still about 300 miles out from Langley, coming in on a heading of 275° toward the Virginia coast. The thickening cirrostratus layer just above them spoke of an approaching weather system, but the forecast for their arrival only called for a broken deck at twelve thousand feet.
“Ice, let’s loosen up a bit and let Otto fly for a while,” Scatcat called.
“Fine by me, Boss. I could use a stretch,” Alex replied.
He eased out to about a hundred feet off his CO’s starboard wing and set “Otto,” the aircraft’s autopilot, to fly the flight plan he had programmed into it. This allowed him to take his paws off the stick and throttle and his feet off the rudder pedals for a long stretch. His tail thumped in its cradle as he eased the kinks out there also. The flight over from
While monitoring his aircraft’s progress and systems, and enjoying the view from his lofty perch, Alex let his mind drift to thoughts of tomorrow’s proceedings at Shaw. It was going to be hard to hear, and tough to keep from confronting Jason’s CO, who was sure to be there. He would have to play “Ice” to the hilt to maintain his composure and bearing, especially if Lt. Col. Mastifson lost his.
The cubs would be in school, but Jenna was coming down to hear the proceedings. Alex hadn’t told her of the package of evidence or what it had said, and had tried to convince her not to come to the presentation. She had insisted on being there to hear the conclusion, saying she needed to hear it to give some closure to Jason’s memory.
Alex too was hoping for some closure, but now, knowing what he knew, he felt it wouldn’t happen for him until he was sure that Mastifson wouldn’t be in a position to get any other subordinates killed.
Reminded by that thought of a question he’d wanted to ask, Alex keyed the radio, saying, “Scatcat, do you know anything about General Barnes?”
After a short silence, Scatcat answered, “Well, you saw and heard him at Jason’s funeral, right? He’s a tough ol’ akita. Mastifson won’t walk off easy from him, especially with this being a flight safety issue.”
“What’s he likely to do, from a command standpoint?” Alex asked, trying to put his own mind at ease.
Again a short silence, and then Scatcat said, “Probably not a court martial, although that’s what he deserves. I’d say a Letter of Reprimand and additional flight safety training, at the least, or an Article 15 (Military Non-Judicial Punishment, can give fines or extra duty, but not jail time. Does not go on the record as a conviction.) at most, unless Mastifson then asks for a court martial to try to clear his name. Either one will end his career.”
Alex considered this a short while as he scanned the sky around them and checked his instruments.
Scatcat said, “Nervous about it?”
“No, just trying to work out different scenarios to be ready,” Alex replied.
“Good thinking,” Scatcat said.
They flew on in silence as they approached the
“Time to close it up.”
“Copy Boss, coming over,” Alex replied. He took the aircraft off autopilot and edged over into closer formation with Scatcat’s F-15. They were about to enter the North American Air Defense Idendification Zone, so Scatcat called the controller for that area and verified their identity. They were cleared into U.S. Airspace and instructed to call Washington center for ATC clearance. The radio chatter began to increase dramatically as they approached the busy East Coast Corridor.
Scatcat called in to begin easing into the continental traffic, “Washington Center, Eagle One One is a flight of two F-15’s, ninety five miles out from Norfolk, inbound on a heading of two seven five at FL250 for Langley.”
“Eagle One One, Washington Center,” came the reply in a smooth, neutral accent, “Squawk five three three seven.”
Alex reached up and set his transponder and hit the IDENT button as Scatcat said, “Copy Washington Center, Eagle One One is squawking five three three seven.”
A few seconds later, the controller came back across the radio, “Eagle One One, I have you ninety offshore at FL250 on a heading of two seven five. Descend and maintain FL200, come right to two nine zero.”
“Washington, Eagle One One, descending to FL200, coming right to two nine zero.” Scatcat replied as they made a shallow descending starboard turn.
They flew that heading for several minutes, and then the controller cleared them down to FL180 and handed them off to Langley approach. The volume of traffic was high, and the communications brief.
As they worked through the approach, they found themselves dropping through a thickening layer of altostratus from seventeen thousand down to twelve thousand. Alex was reminded in the back of his mind of Jason’s last flight, and he and Scatcat loosened the formation to a half-mile trail separation.
After dropping through the bottom of the cloud layer, Langley’s Runway 26 lay ten miles straight ahead of them. The final approach was non-eventful, and soon Alex eased into his landing flare and felt his main gear kiss the pavement.
As they rolled out and prepared to turn off the runway and taxi to the contractor’s receiving ramp, Alex thought, “Even under these circumstances, it feels good to be home.”
# # #
The presentation of findings was being held in a small auditorium in the 20th Fighter Wing headquarters building at Shaw. Jenna and Billy Panelli were already seated when Alex and Bart Higgins walked in. Jenna had held two seats for them to her left. Alex noted all the pilots of the 78th Fighter Squadron seated in their own section to the left of the raised dais at the front of the room.
As he made his way toward the seats beside Jenna, Alex scanned the dais and noticed the small VIP area to the right of the long table where the investigation board sat. Lt. Col. Mastifson sat there with another rotweiller who was wearing Colonel’s eagles. Alex thought briefly on that, wondering if Mastifson had another relative who was an Air Force officer, but the Colonel and the Lt. Colonel didn’t look to be family.
General Boyd, a large-framed chow, sat just to the right of a podium set up at the center of the long table, waiting to start the presentation. He and Alex briefly locked eyes just before Alex sat down, and a brief smile crossed the chow’s muzzle.
Alex side arm hugged Jenna and shook paws with Billy as he introduced Bart Higgins to them both.
“Was your flight over all right?” Jenna asked.
“Long and hard on the backside,” Alex answered, patting his hip and giving his CO a warning glance not to start the routine they’d gone through on this subject back in Germany. Jenna noted the glance and arched an eyebrow.
“Private joke, I’ll explain later,” Alex replied. He had seen General Boyd stand up and knew the proceedings were about to start.
As the chow stepped up to the podium, the buzz of quiet conversation in the room quickly died out.
“Good day, ladies and gentlefurs. I am General Charles Boyd of the Air Combat Command staff. It has been my duty to lead the team investigating the F-16 aircraft accident resulting in the loss of aircraft 84-445 and its pilot Captain Jason Frederick O’Whitt, at 1805Z on the Twelfth of March of this year. My team and I would like to thank you in advance for your patience as we present the evidence we examined in the investigation. Each team member will give a briefing on the evidence he or she found. At the end, I will read the conclusions and recommendations.”
Alex, Jenna, Bart and Billy all listened intently as each officer in turn presented their evidence. Alex was slightly surprised when the weather officer focused on the presence of lightning in the area at the time of the crash. He hadn’t put that much weight on that fact when he’d read the report.
“That’s why these things are best left to the professionals,” he thought.
When the medical officer detailed the exact cause of Jason’s death and the results of the autopsy and toxicology reports, Alex had looked over at Jenna. She had listened, head up and dry-eyed, with her lips tightly compressed. Alex had felt the vice-like grip she had on his paw, her claw tips almost into his skin, but no one else seemed to notice her tightly controlled reactions.
The rest of the investigation team detailed their evidence, and finally General Boyd stood to give the findings and recommendations.
“Thank you, ladies and gentlefurs. Your thoroughness and hard work is greatly appreciated.”
Without any further delay, the General launched into the findings.
“The findings as to the cause of this accident are as follows:
One- Captain O’Whitt’s F-16 entered IMC very shortly after a nearby lightning strike caused a power surge in the aircraft’s instrument system. This was unnoticed by Captain O’Whitt due to the fact that, as per procedure, his attention was focused outside the cockpit on his flight leader, Lt. Colonel Jefferson Mastifson the Third. The team will recommend a full review of systems and redundancy in the instrument failure warning systems.”
Mastifson had been only half listening, occasionally whispering to the Colonel who sat with him. Now, at the mention of his name, the rotwieller’s head snapped around. General Boyd looked his direction and continued.
“Two- Statements from witnesses indicate that Captain O’Whitt was ordered to do a close formation takeoff against his better judgment. Therefore, as a contributing cause to the accident, it has been determined that Captain O’Whitt’s commanding officer was negligent in giving said order. Those statements and details will be turned over to Lt. Col. Mastifson’s commanding officer for further review and action.”
Mastifson looked as though he would choke. He turned and looked directly at Alex, a snarl on his muzzle. Alex was maintaining an absolutely neutral expression. Bart Higgins glanced at Alex and noted two things in his friend that only another feline could’ve seen. The tight line of his mouth and the crinkle around his eyes told Scatcat that Ice was firmly in control.
General Boyd finished his summation with, “I would like to pass on the team’s deepest sympathies to Captain O’Whitt’s family. He was a good fur, and a good pilot. This concludes the presentation.”
Alex bowed his head and said a silent “thank you,” feeling that his brother had been vindicated of any pilot error.
Everyone stood as General Boyd and the investigative team left the auditorium. Jenna, Alex, Bart and Billy stood and turned to walk out together as the noise level increased dramatically. The 78th pilots were all talking animatedly and everyone else looked to where Lt. Col. Mastifson and the other rotweiller had been sitting, but the pair had quickly departed out a side exit. Jenna and Alex might talk with Jason’s fellow pilots later, but right now Alex felt it was better to get her away from public attention.
They walked out the back exit of the auditorium and turned left down the hallway, heading for the doors to the parking lot. As they approached the place where the hallway intersected the side hallway from the auditorium, they all suddenly stopped.
The doors had opened and Lt. Colonel Mastifson and the rotweiller Colonel had stepped out into the hallway in front of them. The Colonel looked at them apprehensively while Mastifson’s eyes narrowed and his lips compressed. Bart Higgins quickly stepped to the front, side by side with Billy Panelli. It was an almost instinctual move to protect Jenna from any verbal tirade the rotweiller might launch.
The two groups eyed each other momentarily. Alex had clamped down on any reaction, his eyes a glacial ice blue, but he could not control the rapid twitching of his tail. He had put a paw protectively on Jenna’s arm, and now he felt the battle between restraint and a verbal attack raging inside her.
What happened next was so unexpected that Alex blinked several times and almost growled. Jenna silently caught her breath. The way Billy and Bart’s tails went straight up showed their surprise, also.
Lt. Col. Jefferson Mastifson III had smiled at them. It was a slight smile to be sure, full of nastiness rather than humor or kindness, with just a hint of his fangs showing. It set off every alarm in Alex that he could feel. The Colonel with Mastifson now looked on neutrally as Mastifson spoke.
“I’m very sorry about your loss, Mrs. O’Whitt. I only hope we can all put this behind us now.”
With that, the rotweiller turned his back to the group, and with a haughty, dismissive wave walked away toward the doors to the outside. The Colonel nodded to them and followed closely after Mastifson.
The group all looked at each other, and Alex said, “We’ll all sit down and talk this over in a little while. Let’s get out of here.”
The others murmured their assent, and the group departed, each silent as they contemplated what had just happened.
# # #
“Well, I have no idea why he smiled. He’s in deep kim-chee from where I see it,” Billy said.
“I would think so, too,” said Bart Higgins, “This is a career-killer. He’s been named as a contributor in the death of one of his officers due to negligence on his part. I just don’t see how General Barnes could let this slide.”
Jenna had wanted some time alone, and had stayed at the hotel where she and Billy were staying. Now Alex, Billy, and Bart were sitting in civilian clothes at a quiet corner table in the base All Ranks Club. It was still early enough that the supper crowd hadn’t started to filter in yet.
“Well anyway,” Alex said, very puzzled about the rotweiller’s action, but seeing no clue as to the reason for it, “At least Jason didn’t have to take the blame for following Mastfson’s order, and the dog won’t get a chance to mess up any other young pilot.”
“I wouldn’t be to sure about that, Colonel O’Whitt,” a feminine voice said from just behind their table. All three turned to see a young collie in jeans and a pullover shirt. Alex recognized her immediately.
“Hello Staff Sergeant Killian, how are you?” he said as all three males moved to stand up.
Waving them back to their seats, she said, “Stay seated, sirs, you’ll embarrass me, and please call me Kathleen.”
“Ah, okay then, Kathleen, would you care to join us?” Billy said, smiling.
She looked a bit uncertain until Alex said, “Yes, please join us. We won’t bite.”
“Or claw,” Billy interjected, broadening into a toothy grin.
“Yes, do sit down,” Bart Higgins said, giving a toothy grin also. Both feline males’ tails were waving slowly behind them.
The collie now looked on the verge of running, but Alex said quickly, “Stop it, you two! Geez, I can’t take you anywhere. Kathleen, they’re just teasing you. Please sit down and tell us about what you said.”
Still looking uncertain, Kathleen said, “Uh, I don’t want to be accused of fraternizing with officers.”
Billy piped in as he sat down, “I’m retired. I can fraternize with whomever I want as long as Penny doesn’t mind, and I don’t think she would in this case.”
“I’m Alex’s CO, Col. Higgins,” Bart said amiably, “and I didn’t see any fraternization, did you, Col. O’Whitt?”
Alex shook his head, saying, “No Boss, I don’ see notin’.”
The three all broke into laughter, and after a few seconds, Kathleen did also. She sat down at the table with the felines and waited for the laughter to subside.
“Thank you, gentlefurs, I feel perfectly safe now,” she said.
“Good,” Alex said, “Now, please continue. Why shouldn’t we be sure about Lt. Col. Mastifson’s fate?”
The collie looked down demurely for a second, and then looked up at Alex as she said, “Did you see the other rotweiller with Colonel Mastifson at the accident investigation presentation today?”
Alex nodded, a bit grim, recalling the other fur in their earlier encounter. Billy and Bart also nodded. Kathleen now turned to look in a neutral direction, not meeting any of their eyes.
“That was Colonel Randall Benkins, new commander of the 20th Fighter Wing. He is Colonel Mastifson’s new commander. General Barnes got a promotion to command staff and a second star. They changed command two days ago. Col. Benkins is quite ambitious, and I think he’ll go very easy on Col. Mastifson to curry favor with his uncle. Plus, I overheard them talking together. Both are very dismissive of enlisteds, so they don’t bother hushing when we’re around. They’re both Academy grads, and they seemed to put great store in helping each other out because of that.”
As she finished her statement, Kathleen looked back at each if the three felines in turn. She began to fidget a bit, nervous now under three sets of unblinking eyes. She quickly made to rise, but Alex laid a gentle paw on her forearm.
“No, Kathleen, no need to run off. I forget sometimes how that feline look can unnerve some folks. It wasn’t directed at you, we just can’t believe Mastifson might skate out of this.” He said. The collie settled back into her seat, but she still looked a bit put-off.
Turning to Bart, Alex asked, “Is there anything we can do?”
Bart shook his head, his mane waving back and forth, as he said, “No, I’m afraid not. You’re not directly involved, so you can’t appeal Mastifson’s CO’s decision. You could send a letter of appeal to Col. Benkins, but from what SSgt. Killian has just told us, I doubt that would do anything but make matters worse. You could always, ah, have the findings reviewed by the IG, but then you risk them reversing the findings and blaming Jason, especially if General Mastifson gets into it. Col. Mastifson might have it in for you anyway, so I think you’d better lay low and let it pass. Mastifson’s an idiot, and he’ll screw up enough to take a fall sooner or later.”
Alex growled low in his throat. It rubbed him the wrong way to give the rotweiller another shot at getting one of his pilots killed, but he couldn’t think of anything else to do at the moment, so he finally shrugged in agreement.
Turning to Kathleen, Alex said, “Kathleen, thank you for telling us about this. It’ll be much easier to handle knowing it’s coming.”
She smiled at Alex, relaxed now, and said with a shrug, “You’re welcome, sir. I just didn’t want you to be blindsided by anything. Jason was too good a friend for me not to help out his family if I can.”
“Aren’t you worried about retribution from Col. Benkins for helping Alex out? If it gets back to him, he is in your chain of command,” Bart said in an even tone.
“No sir, not really. I work as a dispatcher at Base Operations. Colonel Rector, the Base Commander, is my direct supervisor and he likes my work. Besides, my enlistment is up in three months and I’ve decided not to re-enlist,” Kathleen replied.
“I hope none of this caused your decision,” Billy said. Alex and Bart also murmured their concern.
She smiled again, still looking at Alex, and said, “No, I’d already decided that before Jason’s . . . crash. I just feel I need to be somewhere else. I want to go back to school and work on a degree in communications.”
“Well, I’m sorry the Air Force will lose you, but it sounds like you have a plan, so I wish you the best,” Bart Higgins said. Alex and Billy nodded their agreement.
Kathleen now stood up, saying, “Well gentlefurs, I must be on my way. I’m glad I could help out.” She turned and walked away before anyone could try to persuade her to stay. They all watched as she made her way out of the club, her tail swishing slowly behind her as she walked.
Bart and Billy turned back to Alex and Bart said, “For someone who seems to be a perennial bachelor, you sure do attract some nice looking ladies.”
Alex looked askance, saying, “Hey, I only met her when I was here for Jason’s funeral, so don’t start playing matchmaker.” Bart just smiled and gave Alex a “you-can’t-fool-me” look.
Alex shook his head, muttering, “Great, just great. Mastifson’s going to skate, and my CO’s a lunatic who tries to fix me up with every gal he sees me talk to.”
Billy and Bart laughed, and Alex let a small grin creep onto his muzzle. He still was mad at the fact that Mastifson would still be in command, but since it seemed he could do nothing about it, he let it go.
“Well Alex, here’s something that ought to cheer you up,” said Billy, handing Alex a folded fax sheet. Alex unfolded the sheet and read it, and a big smile spread across his muzzle.
“That’s great Billy! She should be ready shortly after I get back Stateside. Let’s see, I wonder if I could convince Dad to go out there and oversee the paintwork,” he said.
“I take it since it will get painted, you’re not smiling about a femme,” Bart said in a teasing voice.
“No,” Alex replied, his smile undiminished, “I’m talking about the pair of T-38’s Billy and I are having rebuilt out in California. Standard T-38 fuselage, but they’ll have the uprated J85’s from the F-5E Tiger II, with a self-starting mod, and wings from the F-20 Tigershark with enhanced flaps and leading edge slats. That’s to let us get in and out of smaller airfields. When I eventually retire, Billy and I are going to go on the airshow circuit with them to promote our business.”
“I take it the paint job is something special?” Bart replied, impressed by the description of the aircraft.
“Let’s just say there’ll be some family resemblance,” Billy said.
Bart smiled back at the two tigers and said, “Well, don’t be put off if I say that I hope that retirement is a long way off.”
They all three laughed together and Alex said, “Well let’s head out. Jenna wanted to go by and say goodbye to some of the 78th guys, so we’d better get going.”
“Yep,” Billy said, “and then we’ll head back for Kentucky in the morning.”
“I’m heading out for Charlotte early in the morning,” Bart said with a grin, “So I need to go get some rest.”
“I’ll just bet,” said Alex with a smirk. Billy looked at him questioningly.
“Meeting his wife for a layover,” Alex said with a wink.
“Oh, so that’s what they call it now?” Billy said, grinning at the lion.
Bart looked at Alex with a wink and said, “You’re just jealous. Go find your own gal and leave me to mine.”
They all again laughed as they left enough cash on the table for their bill and tip. The three felines then turned and left the club.
None of them noticed the Doberman NCO sitting in the back corner booth, keenly watching them.
“Jefferson will be very interested in this tidbit,” she said to herself.
END OF CHAPTER 8