[Matt Wiser]

Here's the next segment, and dealing with an underage airman-which, in T2K, units might not be concerned about such things from 1998 onward:



335th TFS Offices: 1500 Hours Central War Time:


Major Matt Wiser was in his office. After debriefing their mission, he had gone into his office to see if any additional paperwork had made its presence known, and he was pleased to see nothing new. The CO then propped his feet on his desk and closed his eyes. A short nap often made him feel refreshed, and he had just closed his eyes, or thought he did, when a voice sounded in his ear.

“Boss, wake up.”

He opened his eyes and found Kara standing over him. “Kara....don't you know your CO needs his beauty rest? I was having a nice dream: Me, Goalie, and a few Sports Illustrated swimsuit models, all about to do things nasty enough to get us arrested in a dozen states.”

“Sorry to interrupt the dreamland debauchery, but Mark is still out, and so is Don Van Loan. Got a couple things for you,” his wingmate replied. With the other two officers out on missions, that left Kara, who was the senior deputy Ops Officer, next in command.

The CO sighed. One thing about being a CO was that you never stopped being one. “Okay.....what have you got?”

“First, Doc made it official: Digger is grounded for ten days with that ankle injury. Light duty until then,” Kara said, putting a piece of paper in front of the Major.

“All right, then. That makes Digger the new day-shift NDO until Doc clears him. And Jang keeps flying with Flossy.”

Kara nodded. “Speaking of which, our newsies are talking with both of them right now.”

Guru's eyes really opened. “They get ambushed or what?”

“Nope,” replied Kara. “Ms. Wendt just walked up to 'em, without the crew, and asked if they wanted to talk. They said yes, and, well....” She was referring to Jana Wendt of 9 News Australia and her crew.

“Say no more,” the CO said. “Kodak with 'em?” Marine Captain Keith “Kodak” Crandall was a grounded F-4 back-seater who was doing some PAO duty until he was healed up enough to get back in the cockpit. The news crew was staying with the 335th, and lacking a PAO in the squadron, he had been assigned to fill that job from Marine Air Group 11, the Marine unit the 335th was OPCON to.

“He is.”

“Good. What else?”

“Yeager's people are all billeted,” Kara reported. “They're getting settled in.”

The CO nodded. “Okay, just don't fleece them tonight. Let them get settled in, see how the animals in the zoo behave, and then tomorrow night? Weapons-free.”

“Got you,” she said, though none too happily To her, new arrivals were ducks on the pond for the pool table and the poker games.

Major Wiser looked at her. “Just remember: they're TDY here. Just be nice this first night.”

Kara nodded understanding. “Okay. Oh, I ran into two of his guys. Clancy and Pruitt. They've got 'the look'. Not just from the kill scores on their birds. You can tell.” She lowered her voice. “Just between you and me? They really do look like eighth-graders in flight suits.”

“Some people hold their age, “ the CO pointed out. “I've had people tell me when I was home on leave that if they didn't know how old I was, they'd think I had just graduated high school.”

“I know, but still...”

“None of our business,” Major Wiser reminded her. “Anything else?”

“Not now, but we should have a new mission in thirty minutes.”

“Let me know. And Kara?” the CO said as she got ready to leave. “You do good when Mark and Don are out. Wouldn't surprise me if you got a squadron of your own one day.”

“Yeah, twenty years from now. If we all live that long,” Kara replied. “You know me and paperwork.”

Major Wiser knew what she meant. And the peacetime Air Force, when that came around? How would those who flew in wartime fit in. “I do. Let me know when you've got that mission for us.”

“On my way.”

As she left, Goalie came into the office. “Just got word from Doc.”

“Kara told me,” Guru said. “Digger's grounded for ten days.”

“That, and Kicker definitely has the flu. He'll be in Medical for at least three days.”

“At least,” the CO sighed. “Fridge gets some more flight time.”

Goalie nodded. “He's been waiting.”

“All good things come to those who wait. Trouble is, just like Jang, he has to wait for a permanent crew until we lose some people. And that, I don't want. Not now.”

His GIB and lover understood what he meant. “No letters,” Goalie observed.

Guru nodded. “Uh-huh.”


Meanwhile, in the squadron office, Master Sergeant Ross was at his desk when Captain Jeb Pruitt came by. “Captain,” Ross said respectfully. “What can I do for you?”

“They told me you're the go-to guy for some horsetrading,” Pruitt replied.

“Maybe, sir,” Ross said. “What can I do for you?”

“The grapevine's buzzing about your Sparrow trouble. Something about a fight with eight Sparrows fired for zero hits. Maybe we can help you guys do something about that.”

Ross kept a poker face. “How many you talking about, sir?” Even though they were talking about horsetrading, Ross still showed some respect for Pruitt's status as an officer.

“Right now? Eight,” replied Pruitt. “Then another two dozen when our next shipment comes in. AIM-7Ms, and this would be enough to give you two flights a full Sparrow load. We can take sixteen of your oldest Sparrows off your hands right now, and another sixteen when our next load comes in-and we've got some priority for that. Plus some things for the 474th, and the recipe for the pork tri-tip sandwich the Marines make.” He handed Ross a list of things his squadron wanted.

Ross scanned the list. “Some of these could be tough. As for the Sparrows? Normally, I'd go for 'em, but the CO has orders from above to hold off on those.”

“I understand,” Pruitt nodded. “But I know people in officer detailing, supply, and in MAC. I can plug into your network, and you can plug into mine.”

Ross smiled. A new trading partner with some new contacts....and he still hadn't found a new PAO for the 335th. The CO had told him “Don't make promises you can't keep.” And he was still looking. “Sounds good to me, sir. Maybe we can deal.”

“I like the sound of that, Chief.”


After Pruitt had left, Ross had gone back to his own (legitimate) paperwork, when the one officer everyone in the 335th-officer and enlisted-loathed, came to his desk. “Major Carson? What can I do for you, sir?” Ross asked, silently wishing he could give the snobby Major a kick in the ass. He had a couple of write-ups in hand.

“Master Sergeant,” Major Frank Carson said in that Boston blue-blood accent of his. “What do you know about Airman First Class Kellogg?”

“He enlisted right out of a refugee camp. Joined the squadron four months ago, sir. He's pretty good in the maintenance shop, his coworkers like him, and no complaints from any of the NCOs or the maintenance officers. Why do you ask, sir?”

Carson had a grim look on his face. “Kellogg got upset after that CBS report on that mass grave. Seems he's from around here. He got out, but some family, including his parents, didn't. Chances are, they're in that mass grave, but he hasn't been notified yet.”

Ross put a palm to his head. “I'll keep an eye on him, sir.”

“Not just that. He's underage. Two months shy of seventeen.” Carson looked at Ross. “He should be trying to score a girl at a homecoming dance, not working on F-4s. Not now, anyway. I know about the directive from the Secretary of the Air Force and the Chief of Staff, and what the Marines did.”

“Sir, with all due respect, the Marines did a major fuckup with how they handled that,” Ross said. “Have you seen the op-eds?”

“I have, Chief,” Carson said. “Still, I think we should send him to Nellis. General Tanner would do the right thing. I tried taking this to the base JAG office, and they're swamped. Anything I send them is not high priority.”

Ross nodded. For once, Carson was handling something right, which was a rare event. About as rare as Richard Pryor doing a PG-rated standup comedy routine. But with all the frivolous crap he'd done..... and he also knew what the CO had told him. Anything Carson sent to JAG, OSI, or the IG's office was now automatically trashed. “I'll take this to the CO. Anything else, sir?”

“Chief, personally, I might have disobeyed what General Gray pulled, if I was a Marine. I know his intent was good, but the way they went about it.....”

Ross was surprised at Carson's sentiments. “They fucked it up, sir.” He noticed the other write-ups. “Something else, sir?”

“Captain Pruitt. He's been trying to 'acquire' our expired Sparrows. Those are munitions we're talking about Chief. There's likely going to be some kind of JAG, OSI, or IG investigation into how we got those bad missiles, and I do not want that compromised. Whoever gave us bad missiles needs to be hauled in front of a General Court-Martial. Is that clear, Sergeant?” Carson asked, sounding once again like the Frank Burns wannabe everyone was familiar with.

“Yes, sir,” Ross replied. He knew the CO would shred those in a heartbeat. “I can assure you no investigation will be compromised.”

“Thank you, Chief.”

After Carson left, Ross got up. He had to talk to the CO.


In his office, Guru looked at his senior NCO. “How many Sparrows?”

“Eight right away, sir,” Ross replied. “And two dozen more on the next shipment. Captain Pruitt doesn't know we only carry two Sparrows per bird.”

“What else does he want?” the CO asked. When Ross told him, the Major was incredulous. “Awful nice of him, but is he crazy? That suggestion of pork tri-tip is not even edible by anyone's definition.”

Goalie looked at both her CO and the Chief. “He must have a cast-iron stomach.”

“You'd have to ask him, Ma'am,” Ross replied.

“Hold off on the Sparrows until General Olds cuts us loose. He's still trying to work though General Tanner. And Tanner has to cut through the Air Force bureaucracy,” the Major said. “Still, get plugged into his network, and plug him into yours. Maybe we can do some horsetrading.”

Ross nodded. “Yes, sir. There's something else. It's about Airman Kellogg.” Ross then explained what Carson had told him. “Sir? How are you going to handle this?”

'He's what? Over sixteen and a half?” Major Wiser asked. Seeing Ross nod, he took out the directive from the Secretary of the Air Force and the Chief of Staff. “Then I can handle this under CO's discretion.”

“Glad I don't have to make this call,” Goalie said. Then she glanced outside the office window. “Oh, shit. Frank's coming.”

Guru looked out, and sure enough, the 335's most loathed figure was coming to the office. He turned to Ross. “Chief? Stay here. You too, Goalie.”

“In case you need witnesses?” Goalie asked.

“You got it.”

Major Carson went to the CO's office and knocked on the door.

“Come on in, Frank,” the CO said. When Carson came in, he found the CO leaning backwards against the front of his desk. “What do you want this time?”

“Sir,” Carson said, snapping a perfect Academy salute, and seeing the CO sketch a return one. “I see you've been talking with Chief Ross. It's about Airman Kellogg. He's underage.”

“Chief Ross told me,” Major Wiser said. “And so?”

“Sir, I know you all think I'm too by-the-book-”

“You are,” the CO said. “So out with it.”

“Sir, I think sending him to Nellis might be the best option. I know, we're not Marines, and what Gray did was probably illegal as well.”

Guru nodded. “For once, we're on the same page. As in thinking Gray's actions being illegal. But Nellis? Frank, he's past the sixteen and a half mark. That makes it CO's discretion.”

“Sir, the ALMAR, and the directive from the Chief of Staff and the Secretary of the Air Force?” Carson pointed out. “If you send him to Nellis, General Tanner would do the right thing.”

“I may still send him to Nellis,” Major Wiser said. “Then again, maybe not. I want to hear his side of the story first.” He went to his phone and called up the Aircraft Maintenance Officer, Capt. Kevin O'Donnell. “Kev? Yeah, it's me. Listen. I need you and Airman Kellogg over in my office. When? Right now. Good.” He hung up the phone, and said. “Kev's bringing him over. Frank? You actually did something good today.”

“Thank you, sir. It's not all. Captain Pruitt from the F-20 team. He's offering us some Sparrows from the F-20's stash. Along with some other things. Completely violating supply procedures,” said Carson.

“So?” Goalie asked. “A Sparrow's a Sparrow.”

“Not these. They're AIM-7Ms. And our planes aren't wired for them.”

“How'd you know they're Ms?” Asked the CO.

“Saw them on the pylons,” Carson replied. “All of those F-20s have M models loaded.”

Chief Ross shook his head. “Why didn't I think of that when I was talking to Captain Pruitt?”

“Easy, Chief,” Major Wiser said. “You saw a deal and jumped at it. We can still work this out, and General Olds hasn't cut us loose.” He turned to Carson. “Frank? Thanks for bringing both of these to my attention.”

“You're welcome, sir.” Carson replied politely. And everyone noticed the tone of voice. “And Airman Kellogg?”

“I'll handle this. My discretion, remember?”

“Understood, sir.”

I doubt you do, the CO thought to himself. “You still got a long way to go to shape up, so keep that in mind.That'll be all.” He pointed to the office door.

“Sir.” Carson said. He knew not to press his luck. Carson saluted and left the office, and nearly ran into Mark Ellis, who was coming in.

“Boss?” The XO asked. “Frank leaving your office and you didn't throw him out? What's the deal?”
The CO explained, and Ellis was shaking his head. “Frank actually doing a couple of good things?”

“Lightning struck-twice,” Guru said. “But he's got an angle, and I think I know. He knows he's not getting the 335th. But....how about a brand new F-20 squadron? They're forming new squadrons and wings, so.....”

“So, he thinks he can get a squadron of his own that way,” Ellis finished. “Might just work.”

“I doubt it,” Goalie said. “Remember what's in Frank's 201 File. Not to mention his flight record.”

“And when General Yeager sees what's in those, I know what he'll say to Frank in that West Virginia drawl of his. 'Request denied.'” Guru said. “And who knows what Frank's going to do then?”

“Not good,” Ellis nodded.

Then there was a knock on the door. It was O'Donnell with Airman Kellogg. “Come on in,” the CO said. Both saluted, and and said, “Reporting as ordered, sir.”

“As you were, both of you,” Major Wiser said. He was rarely this formal, but this occasion.....”Kev, I want you here to witness this. Kellogg? Major Carson told us. You're underage, right?”

Airman Brian Kellogg looked at his CO. “Sir?”

“Major Carson told us,” Major Wiser said. “Told Chief Ross first.”

The young man looked at his squadron commander. “He must've overheard me talking to a couple of friends, sir. About that mass grave. I have a gut feeling my parents are there.”

“Any idea how they got there?” Goalie asked. “Were they involved in politics?”

“Dad was a member of the local GOP,” Kellogg said. “But he also owned a tractor dealership with forty or so employees, Ma'am.”

Heads nodded at that. They all knew that the KGB and their lackeys-whether Stasi, DGI, or PSD, considered anyone with more than twelve employees to be a “Class Enemy” and thus deserving of either “Re-education” or just plain being shot. “Your Mom?” The CO asked.

“She was in the Republican Women's Club, sir.”

“There you go,” Ellis observed. “You been home yet?”

“No, sir,” Kellogg replied. “I helped Dad bury our stuff-valuables, money, stuff from the safe deposit box, in the backyard. Then he gave my brother-Brandon-and I, a thousand dollars, a company truck, and told us to get out, as far away from the Russians as we could. Made it to Laramie, Wyoming, and a FEMA Refugee Camp. Brandon joined the Navy right out of the camp, and I waited until last year. Got tired of waiting, sir.”

“Okay....” Major Wiser said. “Your brother still in the Navy?”

“As far as I know, sir. Got a couple of letters from him. One after he finished boot, another before I joined up. Said he was going into something, and it was censored. He might have gone into SEALS, sir. They'd censor that, wouldn't they?”

The CO nodded. “They might. You have a sister, right?”

“Don't know, sir,” said Kellogg. “She was a sophomore at UT Austin, and she called home the day of the invasion. Dad told her to get as far away as she could. I heard him say 'Little Rock' then 'Memphis or St. Louis.' Sir, that's all I know about Jenna.”

Guru nodded again. He thought for a minute. “All right. Kellogg, you're staying. First things first.” The CO handed him a blank piece of paper and a pen. “Write down your info on your siblings: DOB, social security number, and so on. Give that to Chief Ross.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Chief?” Major Wiser asked. “Tomorrow, take him into town, and see if he still has a home to go back to when this is all over. You may have squatter trouble, so see if Captain Blanchard will loan you a couple of CSPs. If they're busy? Find a few Marines who can help.”

“I know a few who've had similar issues in Amarillo and Lubbock, sir,” Ross said. “Rounding up a few who can help won't be a problem.”

The CO nodded. “Good. Mark?” He asked the XO. “Check with the military government people. See what their attitude towards squatters is-especially if the squatters are living in a servicemember's house.”

'Will do, Major.” Ellis replied.

“Chief, take Kellogg's info and run down his siblings, if you can. Use whatever contacts in the Air Force, Marines, Navy, Army that you've developed via your horse-trading.”

“Sir,” Ross nodded. “No guarantees, though.”

“As for you, Kellogg?” The CO nodded at the Airman. “For the next ten weeks, until you turn seventeen? You work in vehicle maintenance. You're still working with tools, getting grease and oil on you, but it's in a garage, not on the ramp or in a hangar. It's also closer to a bomb shelter if you need to use it. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!” Kellogg's face brightened.

“Good. You'll be back on the ramp in no time. Any questions?”

“No, sir,”

The CO looked at him. He was a good kid, Major Wiser thought. Another life shattered by the war and looking for a way to build a new one. “All right: you need anything-especially if you get definite word about your parents? Let Chief Ross, Captain O'Donnell, the Exec, or me know. We'll do what we can.”

“Thank you,sir. I will do that,” Kellogg said.

“Good. Now, why don't you wait outside? I need to talk to Captain O'Donnell.”

“Sir.” Kellogg replied, saluting.

Guru returned it, and after Kellogg left and closed the door behind him, he turned to his Maintenance Officer and Senior NCO. “Keep an eye on him. Both of you.”

“Will do, Boss.” O'Donnell said.

“Yes, sir.” Ross added.

“Good. That'll be all, both of you.” Major Wiser said. After they left, he turned to his Exec. “Well?”

Ellis nodded. “You handled that better than I could, Boss. Not sure I'd be so...calm.”

“Goalie?”

“Little weird,” she said. “First, Frank doing two good things?” His GIB and lover shook her head. “Then this? Not sure at all how I'd handle it.”

Guru looked at her, then his Exec. “Not something taught in OTS, I'll admit. And probably not at ROTC or the Academy.” He saw both nod. “Which is probably in the PME we're all missing out on because of the war.”

“School of hard knocks, then,” Ellis said. “Class of World War Three.”

Goalie nodded, then she noticed their wingmate coming towards the office, and Kara was practically running. “Kara's in a rush.”

There was a knock on the door, then it opened. Kara was there. “Boss, we've got a mission. The birds have been rearmed, and they want us in the air.”

“When?” Guru asked.

“Now. It's CAS, down in the East German sector. They got a little uppity again, and First Cav and 11th Airborne are hollering for some help.”

“Ordnance?”

“Birds have been rearmed from what they were supposed to have. They want us in the air ASAP,” Kara said. “Not just us, but Dave and Flossy as well.”

The CO nodded. “Okay....pass the word to everybody. Gear up and meet at 512.”

“Got you,” Kara said. “I'm gone.” She headed out the door.

“Mark?” Guru turned to his Exec. “Get your people geared up and ready. Chances are, you'll be right behind us.”

Ellis nodded. “On my way.” He headed on out after Kara.

“Ready?” Guru turned to his GIB.

Goalie nodded. “Let's get going.”

“Then we have somewhere to be.” Both CO and GIB then headed on out of the office.


After gearing up, both Guru and Goalie headed out to the squadron dispersal, and found their flight, plus Dave and Flossy, waiting at 512's revetment. “What's up?” Sweaty asked.

“CAS, down in the East German sector. First Cav and 11th Airborne need some help, and for now? We're it. Usual procedures on the radio, and this is likely a divisional level threat, and you all know what that means.”

“SA-6, SA-9, ZSU-23-4,” Dave Golen observed. “And MANPADS.”

“Not to mention MiGs,” Flossy added.

“That, and their own people doing CAS. East Germans and Russians, likely,” Guru pointed out. “If you run into any of their own CAS people? Take the pressure off our guys and splash 'em.”

Kara grinned. “With pleasure.”

“Just watch out for ground fire-theirs and ours,” the CO reminded them. “Other than that? Best bailout area if you're hit is anywhere north of the battle line. Any other questions?” Heads shook no. “Then let's hit it.”

Crews headed to their aircraft, as Guru and Goalie went for their own, 512. They noticed that Mark-20 Rockeye CBUs had just been loaded, and that meant antiarmor. Sergeant Crowley, the Crew Chief, was waiting. “Major, we're locked and cocked. Ordnance guys just finished, and she's ready to go.”

“Thanks, Sergeant,” Guru said. He and Goalie did a quick walk-around, then mounted the aircraft. After getting strapped in, a quick cockpit check followed, then Guru gave a thumbs-up to Crowley. He got the “Start Engines” signal in reply, and in rapid succession, one, then two, J-79 engines were up and running. As they warmed up, a final check was in order, then Guru called the Tower. “Tower, Corvette Lead with six, requesting taxi and takeoff instructions.”

“Corvette Lead, Tower,” replied the controller. “Clear to taxi to Runway Three-three Lima. You are number one in line, and hold prior to the active.”

“Roger that, Tower,” Guru said. He gave another thumbs-up, and the ground crew removed the crew ladder and pulled away the wheel chocks. Then Crowley gave the signal to taxi, and Guru taxied the F-4 out of the revetment. When he cleared the revetment, the Crew Chief snapped a salute. Both pilot and GIB returned it, Then Guru taxied to the runway, and held short of it so that the armorers could remove the weapon safeties. Then he contacted the Tower. “Tower, Corvette Lead requesting taxi for takeoff.”

“Corvette Lead, Tower. Clear to taxi for takeoff. Winds are calm.”

“Roger, Tower.” Guru replied. He taxied onto the runway, and after he did, Kara taxied 520 in right alongside his bird. As usual, Kara and Brainiac gave a thumbs-up, and both Guru and Goalie returned it. Then, a quick check revealed all set. Ready to go. “Tower, Corvette Lead requesting clear for takeoff.”

The Tower flashed a green light. Clear for takeoff.

“All set?” Guru asked Goalie.

“Ready,” she replied.

“Canopy coming down.” Guru pulled his canopy down and locked it, and Goalie did the same. A quick glance at 520 to his right showed 520's crew having done the same thing. “Let's go.” He applied full throttle, released the brakes, and 512 rolled down the runway and into the air. At the same time, Kara did the same in 520, and went alongside the CO. Thirty seconds later, it was Sweaty and Hoser's turn, and after that, Dave and Flossy. The six-ship formed up, then set course south for the tankers.