Wings of Steele - Destination Unknown (Book 1) by Jeffrey Burger

pre-flight checklist. By
the time he finished, Mike Warren's Hornet had just left the
catapult and Smiley got the nod to roll. He released the brakes,
slowly rolling to the catapult under direction of the Line Boss.
Smiley closed and latched the canopy, stopping at the Boss's signal.
    Several
more F-18s sat behind him on the deck, their engines warming,
waiting their turn. The catapult linkage connected to the nose wheel
of his Hornet, he waited, watching the Line Boss. The Boss was the Maestro of the deck. That deck and everything on it belonged to him.
Conducting deck traffic like an orchestra, the LB controlled
aircraft, deck equipment and men alike. Everyone watched him, a
missed que could spell disaster.
    A
blast panel rose from the deck behind the plane to protect the
fighters waiting next in line. The Boss rotated his hand in the air
and Smiley throttled up, the catapult holding his aircraft in place.
Exchanging the thumbs up signal with the LB, the pilot's hands left
the controls to hold onto the grips on either side of the canopy.
The line-controlled F18 is control sensitive on takeoff, so it's
carrier-launched hands-off.
    The
Boss took a quick look around, saluted the pilot sharply from his
crouched position and as his arm dropped, the catapult fired,
shooting the Hornet across the deck and out over the ocean. As soon
as he was over the water, Smiley took the controls and steered the
F18 into a climbing turn, out of the traffic pattern. He breathed
deeply in his mask and grinned – any day flying was the best
time of your life. He raised his landing gear. "Blue One to
STC, feet wet, proceeding as planned..."
    “ Roger
Blue One,” replied the traffic control officer from the
carrier, “Happy trails.”
    "Blue
One to Blue Two... location?"
    “ Blue
Two, coming around on your port side, Pappy.”
    Paul
Smiley glanced over his left shoulder, "Roger Blue Two... come
to a heading of two-four-zero, let's climb to Angels 10."
    “ Roger
Blue One." The two pilots pointed their aircraft on course and
before long, began their search. "Why d'you suppose they sent
the Navy on a mission like this?" Warren asked his senior
officer, over a more private air to air channel.
    Surveying
the sky and glancing at his scope, Pappy shrugged mentally, "I
guess there really isn't anyone else." It was about as good an
answer as any. The pilots flew along in virtual silence except for
occasional radio traffic and updates to the carrier.

CHAPTER
SIX
    SWEET
SUSIE, SOUTH OF THE BERMUDA TRIANGLE : HIDE
N' SEEK
    Having
switched seats, Brian and Jack munched happily on the ham sandwiches
Maria had passed to the cockpit, and Fritz watched with interest as
they ate. The Shepherd nudged Jack's elbow and he tore off a piece,
handing it to the dog.
    "How're
you doin' back there?” Jack called.
    “ Fine,”
she replied popping up in between them. “How are your ribs?”
    “ Colorful...”
    "Wow...
wook at dat coud formafin!" Brian mumbled, his mouth full of
ham sandwich.
    Jack
looked at his copilot's bulging cheeks instead. "Really?”
he said sarcastically, “Tower, message garbled, please
repeat...” he chided. “How about you swallow and try
that again.” The copilot smiled sheepishly. Fritz stared
intently, hoping some of it would fall on the floor.

    ■ ■ ■

    In
the search for the B25, Blue flight was the first to encounter
anything in the sky that day. "I got a bogie, Pappy..."
called Mike Warren. "Damn it's gone."
    "Where?"
    "On
the edge of my scope, bearing one-seven-nine." Warren peered
out over the port wingtip of his F18, knowing he wouldn't see it
from this distance.
    “ Ok,
Mad Dog, let's go check it out. Head up one-seven-nine. Blue One to
STC, did you copy?"
    "Roger,
Blue One. Keep us informed."
    The
two Navy jets did a wing-over and swung to their new heading,
throttling up. "I got my blip back again..." called Mike.
    "Yep,"
replied Commander Smiley, "I got it too. Maintain course and
speed." They flew on in formation.