Art Class Preempted - Cover

Art Class Preempted

Copyright© 2014 by autofocus

Section 38

Coming of Age Sex Story: Section 38 - Part Two of Art Class Interrupted. Art becomes life as innocence is lost in school. Strange becomes normal. Innocents go and come often. The models stage a stylistic coup d'etat. Bystanders are conscripted as symmetry is maintained. The population of Bizarro World grows in spurts and fits perfectly for reasons unvoiced but known only in popular fantasy.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Teenagers   Consensual   Reluctant   Heterosexual   Fiction   Humor   Brother   Sister   Cousins   Light Bond   Harem   Black Female   White Male   White Female   Oriental Female   First   Exhibitionism   Public Sex   Workplace   School   Nudism  

“Captain Swenson, as ranking officer here I need to know what’s going on. I have responsibilities and people to whom I report.” He waved his cell phone in the air. Phil could see the screen glowing. Crap, crap and triple crap.

“Maybe we should wait for more instructions from DC. In the meantime, I order total electronic silence. Girls, dim the radar, sonar, everything. Turn your phones off until we hear from Annapolis.”

Phil looked at Speedlove hard when the hesitated. “Turn the phone off now, sir. Why are you getting all uppity all of a sudden? I thought we were working together.”

Reluctantly, he turned the device off. “You’re playing the wrong game with powerful people, Captain Swenson.”

“You are mistaken, General. We’re not playing.” Phil was angry and the crew picked up on it. “First, you are ranking passenger. I am ranking officer on this vessel. You don’t get a vote.” He snatched the phone away and opened the back. The tracking device and bug was obvious. He showed it to Speedlove. “Second, your blind sense of rank may have killed everyone on the ‘Devil’s Darling’. What part of this whole affair did you miss? The bit where the government was riddled with spies, perhaps?”

“Get me two zip lock bags, Polly.” She immediately opened the tiny galley and handed them over. Phil put Speedlove’s phone in one, sealed the bag and put it into the other. The bundle went overboard and drifted away.

“Third, General, you have endangered your family enough for one day. That phone was bugged. If you had half a brain you would have suspected something, even if you were too dependent on the device to turn it off. They have been tracking you from the moment you touched it, preflight. They listened to every word spoken near you all day. Thanks to your keen powers of deduction, they now know our alias and our plans. Thank you.” He looked at the briefcase. “Open that, General. I’m certain you will be surprised.”

Speedlove, shocked, spun the combination locks and raised the lid. “What is this stuck to the top?”

“That would be another tracking device. Likely installed by the person who gave you the new phone at the airport in Port of Spain. Polly, four more bags, gallon sized.” He put the papers and flash drives in two and handed them to Sherry. “Secure these, Lieutenant.” He filled the other two with air, sealed and placed them in the briefcase. The case went overboard with the phone.

“At least now, they will think we are here for a while. You better hope that is enough, General.” He addressed the entire crew. “Here’s the score, ladies. The route is closed through the ICW. The opposition knows our alias and the plan to go open ocean to Maryland. The island route is not an option and we’ll be sitting ducks here. We probably need the fuel Sam is delivering, since consumption is unknown. Traci, take us to Oregon Inlet at full ahead. Marcie, feed her the course. Bridge crew, all sensors passive. Transponders off. False digital image on. We have appointments to keep. Take us away from here. I’ll be back after I explain the facts of life to our ranking passenger.”

“Before you say another word, General, take the moment to consider available facts you should have taken hours ago. That was a new phone, was it not, given to you at the last minute?” Speedlove nodded. “Why? Was the other broken? Who positioned the hijackers? How did they know when and where to act? Your route and itinerary was in the text message memory, wasn’t it? Why was the friendly Colonel at LeJeune ready to disappear your family as soon as we arrived? How did the conspirators at the crash site know to place the nets so far out? Who knew we weren’t taking the route through the sound?” Phil sighed sadly. “The phone should have been the first thing you suspected after events began to happen. You had to know your operation at the Embassy was compromised. You’ve allowed yourself to become complacent. You’re supposed to be better warrior than that.”

Traci had the ‘Darling’ screaming at 100 knots by this time. “We are outta here, Phil. This doesn’t get easier, by the way.”

He continued, “It doesn’t matter if you trust the people you have been talking to. Your phone is the obvious leak. And you knew it came from a tainted source. With all due respect to your experience and rank, this is not your old game. The players are not abstract chess pieces on a battlefield map, fighting a traditional war with tanks and armies. This is dirty guerilla warfare against a hidden enemy, well funded, highly motivated and entrenched in our own command structure. Our only advantage is surprise and better intel. Now we have neither.”

“So, all we have is the this last misdirection, Captain. Where do we go from here?” The deflated man asked. “I can’t let my blindness cost me my family.”

“It won’t. We’ve saved them twice. Let’s go for the hat trick. Another thing we have is knowledge of the bugs. We’ll use that. General, I need you to adapt and use your common sense here. Take a deep breath and turn the page. Remember who you were. There is work to do and we need all hands steady.” Phil said. “Marcie, get Libby on the secure sat phone. Tell her where we stand, the why is not important. We may need back up when we run the gauntlet. Have the Singer teams in Manteo standing by. Move them to Cape Charles when we pass Roanoke. Or get them to do what they think is best. Advise Adam and Nick. Every time we make plans, they fall apart. This one raveled early. So what? It isn’t the first time we’ve had to improvise.”

The crew was quiet for a few minutes, considering the limited options. He looked at the Ninjas. “Brazen it out?”

“Only choice now.” Bonnie said. “Give no quarter. We have three more troops anyhow.”

Her sister agreed. “Feels right to us. We do our best mayhem when outnumbered.”

SuLing chuckled. “Mayhem is good. Crazy is better.”

April added with a smile. “They never seem to expect crazy from such sweet little girls like us. Catches them off-guard every time.”

“The only plan we have is to win.” May vowed. “We haven’t lost yet and won’t now.”

Marcie handed Phil a headset. “Libby.”

“Trouble in paradise?”

“And then some. Our cover is blown. They don’t know we know. Locate the GPS beacon twenty miles or so behind us and scramble the Harriers to disrupt anyone heading for that spot, max stealth. Talk to Crazyhorse only. Tell Sam we’ll find her beacon at the bridge. Don’t forget the one blue light. Get the early arriving families to Annapolis or Joint Base Andrews safely. See you soonest. Later.”

He raced to the bridge. “Traci, back to sonar. I’m driving. Engines, warp speed on my mark. 3... 2... 1 ... Mark!” The transition was silky smooth. “Girls, tell me the instant you find Sam’s gas station.”

Minutes passed like hours until Karen called out. “Got her on IR from SingerSat. ETA rendezvous point seven minutes.”

“Confirm beacon and blue light.” April interjected, “They are at full stop and dark. We have them on ship’s optics.”

“Emily, Polly. Prepare mooring lines. Rachael and Lanie grab the hoses and top off the tanks. Note how much we take on. Zina, get ready to gear up Sam. She’s coming with us.”

As soon as he saw the blue light, “Amy and Dana. Normal mode on my mark. 3... 2... 1 ... Mark! Excellent!”

Slowing to half ahead, then full stop, Phil drifted toward the fueler, which turned out to be a CB-90 with tanks tied on the deck. “Ahoy the ship. Permission to throw lines?”

“Granted, Captain Swenson. Libby sends regards. Claire says do the Clans proud.”

“All the right words, Lt. Betancourt. Thanks for the help.”

“That would be Lt. Betancourt. Meet the real Master of this ship, Captain Derrick Mayfield.”

“Pleased to meet finally you, Capt. Swenson. Max says good things about you and your crew.” He turned to his engineer. “Hop to it Chief, fill ‘er up. Time is not our friend.”

“Permission to come aboard, Captain?”

“Granted. You staying? They can spare you?”

“Yes and yes. New XO on board with ten totally vetted Seals sporting bad attitudes.” Sam grinned. “They would like nothing more than to get up close and personal with some treasonous scum. Plus, Capt. Mayfield was a golfing partner of Tim Perry’s.”

“In that case, welcome to the asylum. Go back and see your cousin, Amy Zander. Zina will get you outfitted in the uniform of the day.” Phil laughed as she lowered the ladder and came aboard with Capt. Mayfield. “Rachael, how goes the fuel?”

“Fast and furious, Phil. They have some major pumps.” She laughed. “And we’re done here. We figure to make port non-stop. Mel tuned these beasts perfectly.”

Mayfield overheard the mention of Zina’s name. “Captain, would that be Zina Ladysmith?”

From the rear, “Is that you Uncle Derrick? Mom is going to have a fit! We haven’t seen you and Sevie since Somalia!”

“And you’re all growed up, Little Zina. I’ll let your Aunt know you’ve fallen in with a dangerous crowd. How’s my sister-in-law?”

“Mom’s fine. Call her once in a while. She worries. How’s Aunt Severine?”

“Beautiful and scary as ever.” Mayfield got sober. “I’ve seen the movies, kids. You made us proud enough to burst. But once you cross over into Virginia, trust no one. Max said the web spreads deep and wide. Carmine sends word to her twins and Phil to jump fast if you ping danger. It will be immediate. Friends will make themselves known. If Max or Libby has not cleared them beforehand, everyone else is suspect.”

“Thanks for the warning, Capt. Mayfield. Friendlies in the air are led by Marine pilot Lt. Louis Gomez. Good guys on the ground are Master Gunny Ed Pierson, Harbor Patrol Chief Archie Taverner and Sheriff Blake Overman. They know who is cool. “ Phil gave Mayfield the GPS numbers of the decoy package and bid them luck.

“What kind of engines are you packing, Captain.?” He asked after Zina finished hugging him to death.

“On paper, three 300 hp Evinrudes. In fact, after the magicians at Mel’s Marina overhauled them, they are over 400. With the extra gearing and reengineered props, we top out at a steady 130 knots.”

“Holy Crap! Unimpeded, you can make it in three hours!” Mayfield blurted. “Not that you won’t find the odd impediment to slow you down. Nothing on the water can catch you but keep an eye out for mines and torpedoes up ahead.”

“Noted. If you get intel we need to know, pass it along to Libby.” He called out. ““Cast off, ladies, and batten down. Sherry, make sure Sam and the General have their weapons of choice.”

Mayfield scooted back up the ladder and the Seals pulled it up. “Happy hunting, Captain Mayfield. See you on the other side.”

“Wishing you smooth seas and a boring ride, Captain Swenson. We got your six.”

“Holly, you and Kirk are gunners’ mates. Keep the belts coming and cover the Cannoneers’ blindside. Olivia, grab a Steyer and stick to Zina and Emily. Can’t have too many snipers.” Phil lit the engines, eased clear of the assault craft and steered towards the inlet. “Depth?”

Traci answered, “Barely enough to stay afloat. Be very careful in the center of the channel. It’s silting up. The chart lies.”

They made it through with inches to spare. “Clear.” Traci announced. “Point it and punch it.”

He cleared the offshore sand bars before turning north. “OK folks. This is it. Watch the satellite data closely. At the first hint of trouble, all sensors go active. Feed telemetry as discussed. Remember. Any mines or torpedoes have to be near the surface to be effective when we are on the foils. Calculate closing speeds. Target accordingly. If the speed allows, the quads can shoot objects too close for the Hellfires. We can outrun anything from the rear except airborne threats. Stay frosty.”

Frosty they were when the boat drew even with Virginia Beach, perhaps twenty miles southeast of the Bridge-Tunnel. “Phil. I’m seeing IR anomalies near the submerged sections of the crossing. Something shallow is warmer than water temp.”

“Where, April?” He hated anomalies. “Marcie, get Max on a secure line. Send pictures. Ask for yesterday’s imagery. I know they have it. Compare.”

“Half mile downstream of the courses over the tunnels, one each, centered.” April answered.

“Engines, on my mark, normal drive. 3... 2... 1 ... Mark!” Phil reduced to one quarter ahead to buy decision time for the Rocket Girls. “Nancy, lock specials onto the two unknowns. General, Olivia, prepare reloads as Joanne instructs. Dr. Andrea, make sure his arm is up to it. Traci, call your Mom. Read her in. Clockwork, people, clockwork.”

Phil studied April’s screens. “Too far out for sonar, but this can’t be good. Mini-sub, proximity mine, torpedo platform, bad, bad, bad.”

“What to do, boss?” Melody asked. “We can handle the quads in this wind.”

“You know the theory behind a Phalanx defense?”

“Yeah. Put a wall of lead in front of incoming missiles, Aegis-style.” Willy said. “You want dead fish?”

“Yes. Traci will hear a launch. She or April can track speed and location. If the Rocketeers can’t acquire and destroy, close the lead curtain. Polly and SuLing are your spotters and Holly and Kirk are the ammo feed.”

“Max.” Marcie handed Phil a headset. “He knows the details. Pulling images now.”

“Phil. Those should not be there. No accident reports, no hazard alerts sent. No one blocks shipping lanes into this port, ever. The Navy is not aware of missing submersible assets, I checked.”

“Try the DEA seizures section. Smugglers love mini-subs and build their own. What’s the most popular black market torpedo? The MK-46, model 5A? Acoustic homing, shallow capable?”

“Got it in one. At 40 knots top speed, you can outrun it, but it has a near 7 mile range. It’s a nasty piece of work.” Max was amazed. “How the hell did you know that?”

“Don’t know. I just know stuff when I need to. Ask Dad. Max, you should alert the proper authorities about an unknown hazard. Clear commercial traffic a mile either side of the tunnel routes. Karen hasn’t seen any private tagged transponders. We’re going fishing.”

“Traffic is light at 2:30 AM, even here. Harbor Control reports one dead beacon two miles upstream from the bridge. No radio response. They don’t know to be wary.”

“Time to stop being radar passive. We’ll go all sensors active at launch. Over and out.”

The crew was in place and ready when the ‘Darling’ approached the outer range of the missiles. “You ready, Nancy? Everyone astern of the battery, keep clear of the rocket exhaust.”

“On it. Say the word.”

Phil watched the targets get closer until both were in range. “Now, Nancy!”

Two Hellfires popped out, oriented toward the targets and arced away, going to Mach 1.3 in an instant. “Engines astern, one eighth.” Phil counted three seconds. “All sensors, active. Light this neighborhood up!”

May caught the last fraction of a second of the missile flights before impact with the water. The explosion a millisecond later was tremendous. “I don’t need the radar to see the blast, guys. The fountain plumes are visible from here in the dark!”

“Congratulations, Nancy. Two for two.” Phil shouted. “And a bonus play. They had no time to launch and must have been loaded with explosives in case their fishes missed. Sucks to be them.”

Pushing the throttle to one quarter ahead, he turned to the bridge crew, “Now tell me stuff about the transponder-less blip above the crossing. General, you OK with reloading?”

“Arm hurts but works within spec for the job. Feels good to be active.” Speedlove shrugged. “You people don’t do anything by halves, do you?”

“If you do it right, you don’t have to do it twice.” April giggled, “Things we learned in kindergarten at Claire and Dennis’ house. That, and bring enough candy to share”

Andrea looked at her daughters. “Girls, that was your first superhero lesson. Hit ‘em with your best shot and be nice to your friends.”

Charlie answered with saucer-sized eyes. “Mom, you lost count. That had to be the fourth or fifth class.” She broke into a huge smile. “The bad guys must be stupid. They keep failing the pop quizzes.”

The General turned into a Dad. “Charlie, the bad guys are not so much stupid as careless. They underestimate the opponent. Maybe they really think they’re so much better than everyone else they don’t consider how good anyone else is. I had to relearn that lesson the hard way. I will not forget getting dressed down by a teenager. But I deserved it. I got careless. A teenager took me to school.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, James. You’ve been at a desk too long. The Captain needed to get your head back in the field. Clearly he respects you, but you need to suck it up.”

“Daddy, they taught us that in fifth grade.” Cathy told him. “Everybody messes up. Learn and move on. You’re only stupid if you mess up the same way twice.”

“Yeah, Daddy. Captain Phil gave you a job on the Superhero Team. We’re proud of you.” Jessica beamed. “You’re a Rocket Jockey on the “Devil’s Darling’.”

“Where did that come from, Miss Jessica?”

“Mom, Daddy calls the Pentagon the Puzzle Palace full of Desk Jockeys.” The little girl answered. “Now we all have a part. We’re Cadets, you’re the Doc and Daddy is a Junior Rocket Jockey and so is Sergeant Olivia.”

Phil, overhearing from the helm, thought to himself, ‘From the mouths of babes.’ Aloud, he said to the bridge crew, “Talk to me about the ghost ship.”

“No response to our hail. No ID.” Marcie led off. “No beacon, no nothing.”

“Heat signature from the stern. Engines probably at idle. I count more than a dozen warm bodies on deck.” May called, “We need some infantry types up here. Maybe Sherry and Gen. Jim can tell us what they are holding.”

“Good idea. Those don’t look like fishing rods.” Phil agreed. “Bullets we can handle. Shoulder mounts and RPGs, not so much.”

“We’re here.” Sherry announced. “What’s up?”

May zoomed in. “Can you identify their weapons? Range matters.”

“Looks like the same M-16 wannabes the shock bozos had at LeJeune.” James said, “That is a shoulder mount missile. Possible snipers and RPGs. No infrared illuminators and no IR headset profiles. Can’t see much more because of the mist.”

“No telling what’s behind the bulwarks, either. No torp tubes in sight from this angle. We can assume more people below and in the cabin. No deck guns.” Sherry continued, “Older fiberglass hull, not bullet-proof, no visible up-armoring, not military.”

Sam added through the earwigs, “Bottom scanning by ‘fish finder’ sonar, I’ll bet, unless they’ve upgraded the old vessel. You see similar boats in the bay all the time. It would be riding lower in the water if it had two 500-pound Mk-46s on board. One would make it list too much to steer well. Any ideas, Traci?”

“Seen them on the Severn, up by the Academy. Mostly one big Diesel, inboard. Not fancy, but dependable. Short-range radar for navigation. Mel and Jeep could turn it into a gunboat, but they don’t have Mel and Jeep.”

“This is too easy. Something’s wrong. It feels like murder, not defense.” Phil uttered to the surprise of most.

“Phil, we better call Max and hold fire. This isn’t what it seems. Bonnie and I aren’t pinging.”

“Right. They’ve done everything the bad guys do except be bad. Stay alert, but lower the weapons. Joanne, lock a standard on and stand by. Marcie, scan for any electronic emissions, any frequency, don’t just listen. Active search, all bands.”

He waited for a few minutes while Marcie swept through the dial. “Bingo! They have an active, encrypted sat phone.”

Phil grabbed his personal phone and started running through the scramble code presets. “Marcie, put sat channel 9 on the earwigs and enter decode string ‘201w96t44+’. Now switch to channel 7 and listen.”

“ ... wasted the shadows, big time, Lt Zhiao. Crazy accurate with a surface to air missile. Must have finagled a way to add sonar to the targeting package.”

“What are they doing now?”

“Just watching.” The conversation went on as if command was checking in with a forward OP.

“Traci, you recognize anything?”

“The voice on the boat sounds familiar, but I can’t remember the name. He’s like an looie jay gee or something. Lt. Zhiao works in my Dad’s office. A legal aide I think.”

Phil heard enough and called Max. “Why don’t I know about the shadow in the bay? Who is Lt. Zhiao and why is he using my encoding?”

“Phil, calm down. Found out we assembled a team to infiltrate the crazies’ fleet. How did we do?”

“Telling me would work. You damn near got them killed, Max. What the hell? You know we’re on a hair trigger here. We have to be on the same page. I thought you understood that.”

“We are. Don’t you see the blue light?”

“We would if it was there. Somebody left that part out and your team nearly paid dearly. We can hear your comms. Find out why the light isn’t on.”

Max put Phil on ‘hold’, which contributed not at all to his happy quotient. “Sherry, put an incendiary RPG fifty feet off their starboard. Now. I need to get their attention.”

Zhiao’s voice came on the line. “Holy Shit! Turn the goddamned blue light on. Now!”

“But people can see us, Lieutenant. We’re undercover.” The JG sputtered. “He is firing on us!”

“And you’re a heartbeat from dead, too. Stand down! Swenson has a Hellfire warmed and aimed at your dumb ass. That light is all that stands between you and reincarnation as a yeast culture. Stop thinking and follow orders, sailor, or I’ll see you swabbing heads on an icebreaker.”

Zhiao continued the ass chewing in true Navy fashion. He had trained well. And the light came on.

Max came back on the line. “Slight misunderstanding on this end. Won’t happen again, I promise. How did you know not to shoot?”

“I didn’t know to shoot. That was the big issue. Carmine’s girls agreed. All the visible signs fairly screamed to take them out, but it felt like murdering innocents. So we held fire and eavesdropped on your communications.”

“That’s not possible! You can’t hack secure DoD satellites. Phil, you’re just pulling my chain.”

“They don’t give Top Secret Clearance away as party favors, Max. Did you forget who you’re dealing with? Tell the ex-butterbar that when Lt. Zhiao finishes his banishment to the Arctic.” Phil grinned. “It’s not hacking when I write the code. This is what I do when I have to problem solve. Software manipulation needs repair. Incompletely informed people make it necessary, too. I don’t really need a reason and I don’t ask for permission.”

“At least only you can listen. And you’re too busy to bother.” Max sighed audibly. “Thanks for being reverse paranoid. The JG might be green, but he’s not stupid or he wouldn’t be there.”

“Really? Max, I have an idea. Move them up to Bel Alton if the ethnic mix passes bigoted muster. They can catalogue the passing bad guys and pretend to be escapees from the Carolina troubles. The conspiracy is compartmentalized enough to pull it off if you brief him on details the public doesn’t know. I’ll get with my crew and send you stuff that is in no official report, that only bad guy insiders could know. Put them in touch with the Singer team out of Manteo, inbound for Cape Charles on standby.”

“That works better than using them as back up. Lt. Zhiao wants you to toast ‘em just a little anyway.”

“Sherry already gave them a serious case of brown pants. Incendiaries will do that.” Phil made a decision. “We’re going to run the gauntlet before dawn. Traffic is light so the bogies will stand out. Maybe the loss of the ambush subs will make them less hasty. We’ll be flying wide open at DefCon 5. If you have more people out there in wait, best get them out of the way. Talk to you at the Academy in 90 minutes or so.”

“OK girls and guy. Here’s the set up. On the west side of the waterway, we’re mostly cool. Patuxent Point NAS is a few miles north of Lexington Park. Marcie, ask Max for a little air support. We’ll probably see potential threats while we have time to counter, until about the narrow part 15 or 20 miles north of the Potomac. That’s where the next attempt will happen.”

He looked at a map of the entire estuary. “There, between Calvert Cliffs State Park and Taylor’s Island Wildlife Area, that’s the hot spot.”

He gave specific assignments. “General, you and Belle are on HE RPGs and M-16s for close in fighting. Sherry, Emily, Zina and Olivia are long-range sharpshooters and snipers. Engineers have rear guard with solid load Mossbergs and incendiaries. Everyone else, go where you see a hole. Pick your targets, no collateral damage to the private houses along the shore, but if it looks like the enemy and can touch us, touch it first. You know the signs by now. Polly, get earwigs and armor for the General’s family. They need to know when to duck.”

Phil looked over the screens one more time. “OK, buckle in, eyes open and ice in your veins. Girls, let’s take it to the House!”

Marcie handed him the headset once they were at top speed. “Max wants to talk about air support.”

“Hi Max. What ya need to know?”

“Nick has three Blackhawks on Barren Island off Fishing Creek. Where you want Navy Air?”

“The most likely attack points are Calvert Cliffs and Taylor’s Island Preserve. Low level, seek and destroy flyovers starting before we clear Lexington Park might drive the bad guys to cover. Lots of targeting radar, lots of noise, repeated until we clear the narrows would be very nice. The Singer Team can herd the traitors to the beach and the Navy can round up the survivors.” Phil hesitated, then continued. “We can cope with opposition in the water, but I don’t want to start a firefight with land forces. Civilians will get killed. That is unacceptable. The enemy won’t care, but I do.”

“Good plan. I’ll have the jets leapfrog ahead as you pass. There are a few danger points to the north, too. If we get lucky, I’ll see you in Annapolis in an hour.”

“I hear that.” Phil signed off. No pings. Maybe for once they wouldn’t have to fight though. Marcie made him keep the headset when he handed it to her.

“You’ll just want it back in two minutes, Phil. I got better things to do than hand you stuff.” She grinned. “Yeah, yeah. Keelhauling, spanking, yardarms, whatever. Promises, promises.”

“The day will come, Ms. Patterson. Just go eavesdrop on people like a nice little comm. girl.” He remembered one promise. “Send Max a few details of the scuffle at the debriefing and how we foiled the trap at the crash site. Drop a few details about the hinky telephone and the moles in the armory. Make special mention of the Colonel’s Shock Troops and the smuggled guns. Give the butterbar some names to drop for credibility.”

Despite the lack of mystic warnings, he kept the crew at high alert. Speeding past Calvert Cliffs, they could see the Navy jets raising holy hell on the opposite banks. The ground was a bad neighborhood. The air show was frightening. The Navy had decided to extend their exotic combat aircraft testing program to the real world. Phil imagined some of the jets’ numbers were preceded by an ‘X’.

Max must have pulled some heavy strings or the Naval Air Station was itching for a fight. Either way, the bad guys never had a chance. The pilots were having a field day with their brand new toys.

“Girls, do not record visuals. These jets and weapons are beyond secret. We need to be somewhere else.” He turned his attention to the helm and estimated their arrival inside twenty minutes. “Ladies, stow the extra ammo and secure the heavies. Dress in your finest ‘Devil’s Darling’ finery, we are going calling. Stick some patches on the Cadets. General Speedlove, wear your stars. We must not disappoint the spit-and-polish Middies. You Air Force and Army folks, get ready to play nice with the Naval Academy. Sherry, retrieve the contents of the General’s briefcase and find something more appropriate than freezer bags for him to hand over to the State guys.”

Sherry emptied a lockable aluminum first aid kit, allowing General Jim to transfer the material himself. “If you are the one to pack and load the kit, chain of evidence is preserved.” She smiled. “Phil’s fingerprints have clearance, mine don’t.”

“Smart thinking, Lt. Singer. They will check, especially in the middle of a major military infestation. Gotta look efficient and all that crap.”

“Infestation? You do our resident comediennes proud. If I may say, General, your attitude seems to have loosened a bit.”

“It’s the ship. The routine on board is anything but military protocol, but works better. I’ll have to be careful around normal officers. Your respectful disrespect is contagious.”

“Max in your ear.” Marcie said minutes later. “Observe protocols if you can think of any. You are not alone. Try to keep us out of the brig.”

“Captain McGuire. Thank you for the impressive assistance. The Navy does good work. Compliments to the flight line at Patuxent Point and to all sailors involved. But as usual you could not have heard that from us, since we were never there and saw nothing.”

“Capt. Swenson, I’ll be sure to mention nothing to the air station. How fares your crew and what is your ETA?”

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