Electronic Attack Squadron 133 (VAQ-133)
Embarked USS John C. Stennis (CVN-74)
“You OK, sir?” Chief Petter Officer Smith was looking much more concerned than Lieutenant Commander Lake had ever seen him.
“Yeah, I’m OK. No picnic, but I’ll be fine.”
Smith looked down. Unsure what to say. Losing your backseater was rough. Many pilots never returned to active flying status after an incident like that. “You gonna ask for reinstatement?”
“Yeah, going to see the CAG now.”
Smith nodded once. Lake wasn’t a quitter. Smith squared up and snapped a salute. “Tell that CAG that I’d fly with ya.” A slight pause. “Sir.”
Lake grinned and returned the salute. “Thanks, I appreciate the vote of confidence.”
Despite the reassurance from Smith, Lake really had no idea what the CAG was going to say. Technically, he had the right to request a rotation home and should probably have been sent stateside already. Getting back to the ship from the tiny airport where the PJs had been operating out of had been an ordeal all on its own and had involved bending and even breaking a few regs to make it happen. Lake paused before the CAG’s office door, then gave a firm knock.
“Enter.”
Captain Richard Harlens was a legend in Navy Aviation circles. A combat vet, he had flown F-14’s, Legacy Hornets and Super Hornets in his time. He had also seen combat over Iraq and had scored one of the few Navy air to air kills in that conflict in his F/A-18. A pilot first, he was an inspirational leader and all the pilots on the Stennis looked up to him. Since the war had started, his presence had been even more important to the air wing.
“Sit down Will. How are you doing?”
“Just fine sir. Glad to be back on the ship.”
“Strictly speaking, you shouldn’t be here. I have a feeling I don’t want to know how you arranged to be here instead of back stateside.”
“Sir, I can explain.” Lake shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Harlens could make an issue of the rules he had broken if he wanted to.
“Stow it. Less things for me to bust you on if you don’t lie to me now.”
“Aye, sir.”
Harlens grinned at Lake. “Did CPO Smith find you?”
“Yes, he said he would fly with me.”
“Hmm. Well, that’s an endorsement I take more seriously than you may think. Frankly, I don’t know what to do with you. The shrinks say you’re borderline for flight status.”
“Because they think I’m afraid?”
Harlens sighed and ran his fingers through his tight cropped afro. “No, because they think you’re not afraid. Very dangerous to put a man who is not smart enough to fear for his life in a combat situation. Bad things happen.”
Lake took a moment to assess this blunt statement. He could see the point. Fear could cripple a pilot if not under control, but it also gave you the adrenaline surge that made the difference sometimes. “Sir, I would never endanger my crew or my mission.”
“Yes, I know. If you were flying a single-seater I would down check you right now.” Harlens folded his hands on his desk and pondered them for a moment as if wondering where his own hands had come from. Then he looked Lake square in the eye, decision made. “Here is what I know. You’re a good man. You would never do anything to endanger your backseater. I also know that I need you now. We are about to go into the biggest furball since World War Two, and I need my best pilots up there. You ready to get back in the saddle?”
“Yes, Sir!”
Harlens stood and extended a hand. “Welcome back. Get briefed in, things are moving fast.”
