A radio call from CATCC broke the silence. “Four-zero-six, lock-on six miles, say your needles.”
“Fly up and left,” Sponge replied.
“Concur, fly your needles,” the controller commanded. Wilson recognized the approach controller’s voice and thought, They’ve got their best guy controlling him.
“Four-zero-six, update state.”
“One-point-two.”
Damn, Sponge is cool tonight, Wilson thought as he returned to his place. At least cooler than I feel right now with all these eyes on me. And Saint over there adding zero value. Wilson wished Saint would just leave and watch from the ready room. Was he here because he cared about Sponge, or was he thinking about having to answer questions at the mishap board? That meeting would surely be convened tomorrow morning, no matter what happened right now.
“Four-zero-six, four and a half miles, right of course correcting. Mother’s in a starboard turn. Expected final bearing one-two-six.”
“Four-zero-six… Jus’ got a fuel hot.”
“Roger, four-zero-six, right of course and correcting. Turn right to zero-niner-five to intercept final.”
“Four-zero-six, zero-nine-five.”
On the platform with Dutch standing behind him, Shakey held the headset to his left ear. He had his right arm tucked under his left elbow and looked aft into space. As he watched, the lights of Sponge’s Hornet and those of the escort ship behind the carrier drift left. We’re in a fucking turn! he realized. He listened to the exchange between Flip, CATCC and Sponge and was impressed by the calm in their voices. He felt anything but calm, but maintained a stoic exterior. The dull tension at the base of his skull spread to his shoulders and was intensified by the isolated raindrops that splattered on his back and head. His mouth felt like cotton, but he had to sound confident on the radio. Fight it! he thought.
He took a deep breath, glanced at the wind speed indication, and willed his voice to be calm as he keyed the mic. “Workin’ thirty-four knots… Barricade’s up.” He exhaled deeply and put the handset down to rub his shoulder. A bolt of lightning flashed from somewhere behind him.
“How ya doin’, Shakey?” Stretch asked.
“I’ve got it… Just picked a bad day to quit sniffin’ glue!”
The tension broken, Dutch chimed in, “Yeah, I’ve never waved a barricade either, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night.” Although it was somewhat forced, the officers on the platform laughed. It was a welcome relief from the strain of the recovery.
