Target Response (22 page)

• 1. All facility aircraft are herewith grounded. No flight will be authorized unless it is an emergency flight.
  

• a. Emergency refers to national emergency only.
  
• b. Authorization for emergency must come from Department of Defense.
  
• c. Said authorization will require authenticator.
  

• 2. All aviators are hereby ordered to submit flight logbooks showing most recent flying time for analysis of flying patterns.
  
• 3. All aircraft maintenance logbooks will be surrendered to flight operations, and all aircraft will be rendered unflyable by removing lines from fuel tank to fuel controls.
  
• 4. Flight school students who have less than 200 flying hours will be dismissed from the course and reassigned to nonflying billets.
  
• 5. Flight school students with more than 200 flying hours will be subject to flight instructor’s evaluation for further disposition. If recommended by flight instructor, they will be awarded the wings of a rated aviator.
  

For the Commander MG Clifton von Cairns

Joseph A. Wrench,
LTC Avn Adjutant

“What is this nonsense, Major?” Captain Greenly asked. Greenly was one of the instructor pilots in Environmental Flight Tactics. “All aircraft are grounded?”

“That’s what the DF says,” Jake replied.

“For how long?”

“That, I can’t tell you, Len,” Jake replied. “But I can tell you, it doesn’t look good.”

“I’ve only got one student who meets the two-hundred-hour requirement, but hell, that’s because he’s so uncoordinated he had to fly extra hours just to keep up. My two best students are still fifteen hours short. What am I going to tell them?”

“Tell them the truth,” Jake said. “At this point it doesn’t matter whether they have their wings or not. Nobody is flying.”

“Have you thought about where that leaves us?” Greenly asked.

“What do you mean?

“I mean if nobody is flying, there isn’t much need for flight instructors, is there?”

“I see your point.”

Greenly sighed, and ran his hand through his hair. He was a veteran of two tours in Iraq and one in Afghanistan.

“Jake, I’ve got forty-five days of leave time accrued. If you have no objections to it, I think this might be a good time to take leave.”

“Why burn your leave time?” Jake asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you just take off? Check in with me every week or so and let me know how to get hold of you if anything comes up.”

“You think that would be all right? I mean, to just leave without leave papers?”

“I don’t know where all this is going, Len, but I seriously doubt that the Army will even know you are gone. I’m certainly not going to tell them.”

Greenly smiled. “All right,” he said. “Maybe I’ll just do that. Drop in on the folks back in Kansas, unannounced.” Greenly started toward the door, then stopped and looked back toward Jake. “Jake, what would you say if I told you I’ve been thinking about resigning my commission?”

“You’re a good man, Len. You’ve been a fine officer and an asset to Environmental Flight. I hate the way things are, but, with the way they are, I would say that I would understand.”

Greenly stepped back toward Jake, then reached out to shake his hand. “Good-bye, Jake,” he said.

“Good-bye, Len.”

Greenly came to attention and snapped a sharp salute. Jake returned it, and then Jake did a crisp about-face and left the room.

Jake stared at the empty door frame for a moment, then sat down and looked up at the wall. It was filled with photographs of army helicopters, from the H-13s and H-19s of Korea, to the Hueys, Chinooks, and Cobras of Vietnam, to the Blackhawks and Apaches of Iraq and Afghanistan. There was also a picture of a CH-47 Chinook in Afghanistan, and under it was a caption:

“Nothing except a dumb-ass president,” Jake said aloud.