The Gunny and Lenore
Chapter 58

Copyright© 2011 by black_coffee

13:50 Thursday, December 26th, 1991
San Diego International Airport (Lindbergh Field)
Passenger Pick-up, Terminal 1

"Collins, Shiplett," Chief Vales greeted them as they walked out of the terminal, the sunlight alternating with the shadows cast by the strange overhangs of the Dulles-inspired projecting roofline of the airport terminal.

Smiling for the familiar face, Lenore threw her two sea bags into the trunk, and Shiplett's followed. Lenore claimed the front passenger seat, and soon the three were driving out of the airport.

"Novotny ran over your dee-minus-three checklist a week ago," Chief Vales told her with a laugh. "He's moved the boat quayside today so we can load. Most of what's going should already be stowed, based on the plan you and Lieutenant Manasares worked out."

Lenore nodded, just happy to be back where things were moving forward again. She was sure she'd have to have something or other moved when she got there, but it was good to know that they were ready to go in the morning.


Lenore, Novotny, Shiplett, Lieutenant j.g. Manasares, and Lieutenant Brophy together went over the various checklist items, visually inspecting each. Lenore checked the magazine of every firearm on the boat, and no one said anything to her about it at all. Finally, she tucked a few extra fuel filters from the case back at the platoon area into the shelf over the bed in her cabin. In the space under the wooden slats that held up her mattress were sixty-four of the PC boards that were the crux of the surveillance mission; under Shiplett's bed were sixty-four more. Eight days from tomorrow, Lieutenant Rudolfs and EM2 Novotny would arrive on the boat at La Union, with the Dresser Industries regional director, and Lenore and Shiplett would fly home. The initial deployment of materiel would be two days later, and Rudolfs would go ashore with the materiel, while Brophy and Novotny sailed for a rendezvous with TF-4, when they'd pick up the majority of the weapons and satellite communications gear and bring it back to Honduras to deploy it ashore.

Lenore would miss that. It didn't keep her from making sure there were match fuses hidden in a used fuel filter in the engine bay; a few feet of det-cord and a few four-ounce blocks of TNT in the second coffee can in the galley pantry. Guns, she could explain, being a private yacht on the high seas, but explosives would be harder, she reasoned, and she felt better for having the materiel. Ansari had simply provided what she'd asked for, with no questions.

Standing on her tiptoes, Lenore velcroed the photograph of the Turner Joy that Commander Fales had given her over the center brow of the pilothouse windshield, where she'd see it every time she scanned around the boat.

Shiplett and Brophy would sleep on the Joy Redux tonight, she knew, with the radios and books aboard and powered-on. If they were ever boarded by a foreign navy or customs, they'd have to trust that the relatively blank and innocuous-looking secure-comms radio faces wouldn't raise eyebrows.

Later that evening, after supper with Lieutenant Rudolfs and Chief Vales, Lenore sent her Plan of Intended Movement and the chop – Change of Operational Control – to ONI and CINCPACFLT, a very strange feeling for her.

"Six months ago, I was a civilian," she said, pointing to her signature over Eric Rudolfs'. "Time flies when you're having fun," and both men with her laughed.

"Pick me up at 0400," Lenore requested, and the Chief nodded.


04:20 Friday, December 27th, 1991
Guadalcanal Jetty, Coronado NAB
San Diego, CA

Under a dark sky, the underside of which was lit with orange light reflected off the streets of San Diego, and a cool wind coming from the ocean, Lenore saluted Lieutenant Rudolfs, and she stepped onto the Joy Redux.

Her voice was muffled by the moist air and taken by the breeze, but it was sufficient to get the men moving. Five minutes after she stepped onto her boat, the diesels were idling, and she had Shiplett stowing the shore power cable.

Ahead and to starboard, Rudolfs handed down the bow line to Brophy, and behind her, she saw that Chief Vales hand handed the after line down to Shiplett. She turned back to see Kevin Brophy saluting Eric Rudolfs as he stood by the fender, a gesture of true respect between the men. Lenore gave them just a moment, and then smoothly added power. The Joy Redux' screws bit into the water as they steamed away from the quay. Behind her, she was surprised to see that Chief Vales had saluted Midshipman Shiplett.

 
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