0930 ZULU
Sturgis and Meg stand inside the small office, decorated with photos of combat jets and a recruitment poster for the British Royal Navy. sitting behind the desk is a man in a British Royal Navy uniform.
"Tell us about Lieutenant Tarleton," asks Sturgis.
"Tarleton was a great pilot," says Captain Crispin Sudborough of the British Royal Navy. "He was excited about this assignment. Always made sure to work hard."
"Was he having any problems with the American pilots?" asks Meg.
"Oh no," says the British Navy captain. "He got along with them fine. Some of the others didn't see eye to eye with the Americans, but not Lieutenant Tarleton."
"Was there any indication of any emotional problems just before he died?" asks Sturgis.
"Emotional problems? Oh no, he never said anything. He seemed ready to go on that day."
"Any indication of drug abuse?"
"Drug abuse?" asks Captain Sudborough.
"We have to check every possibility, sir," says Meg.
Sturgis and Meg glance at each other. "That will be it for now, sir," says Meg. "If you find anything else?"
"Captain Hunter already spoke to me," says Captain Sudborough. "But feel free to contact me. You know where to find me."
ooooooooooooo
1100 ZULU
Sturigs and Meg meet with the others in the task force assigned to investigate the crash. A British sailor passes our reports to the task force members.
"No sign of mechanical problems with Lieutenant Tarleton's plane," says Captain Hunter.
"Is it possible any such evidence could have been destroyed?" asks a British commander.
"Very possible," says Captain Harmon Rabb. "I've worked in these cases before.
"I think we should take another look."
"Perhaps," says Captain Hunter. "Until then, we should look for other clues, find out exactly what happened that day."
"Lieutenant Tarleton's autopsy hadn't been performed yet," says Meg. "This whole thing could have been because of what he ate for breakfast."
"Let's not speculate too much, Commander," says Hunter. "I'm sure our forensics team will be able to do their jobs."
oooooooooooo
1120 ZULU
OFFICE OF CAPTAIN HARMON RABB, JR., USN
HEADQUARTERS, NAVAL FORCES, EUROPE
Sturgis and Meg meet with Harm after their meeting with British Navy lawyers.
"What do we do now?" asks Sturgis after reading through the files. "Lieutenant Tarleton's autopsy had not been finished yet."
Harm sits behind his desk and taps his fingers on the surface three times. "There is one thing I can do."
oooooooooooooo
1230 ZULU
Harm climbs into the cockpit of a Boeing F/A-18 Super Hornet. He is clad in the standard United States Navy flight suit. He sits down on the seat and places his helmet on.
As the canopy closes, he is for a brief time reminded of all the times he sat in the cockpit of a fighter jet. He flew F-14 Tomcats when he was designated as a naval avaitor, and he even flew a Russian MiG when he and Sarah Mackenzie went looking for his father in Russia.
He checks each and every instrument to make sure the airplane is in prper working order. He then flips switches to activate the two General Electric F404-GE-402 turbofan engines.
"This is Hammer," says the Navy captain, using the callsign he was given when he temporarily left JAG to join a Navy F-14 squadron. "I am rrady for takeoff."
"We clear you for takeoff on runway 21," says the British air traffic controller.
"Copy."
Harm taxis the F/A-18 along the taxiway towards the runway where he will take off. He then pushes the throttle forward. The engines roar to life and push the plane forward at a high speed. The air pressure below the wings provides the life and soon the landing gears lose contact with the ground. The F/A-18 Hornet rises into the blue sky above.
"Hammer is in the air," says Harm.
Sturgis and Meg stand inside a control room in the base where Harm took off.
"You sure this is necessary?" asks Captain Hunter.
"Captain Rabb's one of the best," says Meg.
The Hornet continues its climb., Harm activates the autopilot, and the U.S. Navy jet flies on a preprogrammed course that will take it above the North Sea. It takes a few minutes before the Hornet is feet-wet.
"Here goes nothing," says Harm. His heart pounds and races. The skies are one of the places where he truly feels at home. And yet he also knows the hazards of being up in the air, especially after flying on and off for over twenty years.
He turns off the autopilot and grabs hold of the stick with his gloved hand.
The Hornet does twists and turns as the Navy captain attempts to duplicate Lieutenant Tarleton's maneuvers. Harm can feel the G-forces pressing against his body. Outside he can see the sky spinning, though he knows for sure that he is the one enduring the centrifugal forces.
Harm does these maneuvers for a few minutes, copying that Tarleton had done just days ago before the fiery crash.
He yanks the stick to the left, just as Tarleton must have done that day. The Hornet banks to the left.
And then it stalls, as the air pressure does not lift up the wings any more. It soon plunges towards the North Sea at a high speed.
Harm pulls back the stick even as he increases throttle.
"Come on, come on," he says.
He does not even think about what will happen if he hits the water.
He must get back safely.
For Mac.
The plane continues to plunge downward.
His heart races. His palms become sweaty, humidying the inside of the gloves.
The water surface approaches ever so closely.
"Come on, Rabb," he whispers. "Get out of it!"
He feels the G-forces.
And then he looks up and sees the sky. He can see the altimeter indicated the Hornet rising. He dares not think about how close he came to the water. He breathes a little sigh of relief.
"This is Hammer," he says. "I'm heading back to base."
The flight back to the base is not as eventful as duplicating Lieutenant Tarleton's maneuvers. Minutes after becoming feet-dry, Harm sees the runway lights. After being cleared for landing, he lowers the flaps, extends the landing gear, and reduces engine power. The F/A-18 Hornet slowly drifts towards the ground. Soon the main landing gears make contact with the concrete surface of the runway. The nose landing gear touches down minutes later, and Harm taxis the plane to the hangars where the Hornets are stored.
He opens the canopy and removes his helmet.
"How was the flight, sir?" asks Commander Gray.
"I didn't damage the plane," replies Harm, climbing down the ladder towards the ground.
Harm looks and sees a Jeep approaching. As it comes to a stop a few yards from him, he sees Sturgis and Meg riding in the Jeep.
"You founf out something?" asks Sturgis, stepping out of the Jeep.
"Yeah," says Harm. "I went into a free-fall dive for a few seconds. I pulled out, but Tarleton wouldn't have been able to pull out because he was closer to the ground. We'll have to compare the flight data to make sure."
ooooooooooooo
1316 ZULU
"Excuse me," says Meg as she speaks with a woman inside the hangar, tending to one of the F/A-18 Hornets.
"Yes, ma'am?" asks the woman in a jumpsuit, whose lapel and sleeve marks identify her as Airman Cassidy.
"Commander Austin from JAG. You worked on the planes the day of the accident, right?"
"We all did, ma'am," replies Airman Cassidy. "The chief told us to get plenty of sleep, 'cause we were to report here at 0700."
"Ypou got plenty of sleep, right?"
"I went to bed at about 2100 the night before."
"Do you know anyone who miught have stayed up late?" asks Meg.
oooooooooooo
1325 ZULU
"Yeah, I stayed up until 0200," says a woman in a blue jumpsuit who is examining tools in a toolbox. "I drank some coffee before reporting to duty."
"That would make you jittery," says Meg.
"I guess so, ma'am," she replies. "Wait, you're not saying that I somehow broke that plane that crashed?"
"I'm just trying to find ourt everything that happened that day, Petty Officer."
"You're not going to tell the chief I stayed up late."
"I'm gonna look at who was handling which plane," saya the Navy lawyer. "And which planes you worked on."
oooooooooo
1532 ZULU
OFFICE OF CAPTAIN HARMON RABB, JR., USN
HEADQUARTERS, NAVAL FORCES, EUROPE
"Let's go over this again," says Harm. "No sign of mechanical damage to Tarleton's plane."
"Any evidence could have been destryoed in the crash," says Sturgis.
"The only mehcanic who didn't get enough sleep didn't work on Lieutenant Tarleton's plane," says Meg.
"Could one of them have sabotaged the plane?"
"None of them had any close relationship with the pilots," says Sturgis.
"Well check again."
A woman with brown hair entewrs the room. Her sleeve stripes identify her as a lieutenant commander. "I just got a copy of the autopsy report on Lieutenant Tarleton," she says.
"Thanks, Coleman," says Harm. "This is Lieutenant Commander Faith Coleman. I assigned her to assist us in this investigation."
"Commander Meg Austin," says Meg, introducing herself.
"A privilege to work with you, ma'am. You know, I once represented the captain when he was being charged with murder."
"When did this happen?" asks Meg, interested in the details.
"It's a long story, Commander," says Harm. He reads the autopsy report. "No sign of any recent drug use."
"This is a preliminary report," says Sturgis. "There may be more to this."
"In any event, we should meet with Captain Hunter and the others," says Harm.
"In the meantime, I'll try to pry some more information," says Commander Coleman.