SITREP Aboard an Airship
“We would love to show off all the features of this new vessel,” Pruitt continued, “however, our recent security sweeps in light of the Chinese aggression have forced us to increase our protective posture.”
Ranell cringed. The routine security sweeps at the Skunk Works had flagged his personal cell phone as a security risk. Apparently, someone had uploaded some very sophisticated surveillance software on it. They hadn’t caught the culprit, and Ranell’s phone had been confiscated.
“Nice to see you again, Josef.” In the real world, Cora Vaughn was already sitting with Ranell in the Skunk Works boardroom. Impeccably dressed as always and with a beaming smile, her greeting to him now was a mild joke acknowledging his successful entry into the virtual world meeting.
“Forgive me if I don’t stand and shake your hand,” Ranell grinned wryly. “They told me not to move around.”
“Let’s get down to business, shall we?” Vern Foster seemed distracted, perhaps even upset. It was a big change for a man who was usually enthusiastic about the airship project. “Captain, can you give us a SITREP?”
A situation report, or SITREP, was a standard military briefing. Captain Pruitt wasted no time with pleasantries. “We’re on a heading west by southwest to link up with the 12th Marine Littoral Regiment at Naval Base Guam.”
At this point, Pruitt brought up a holographic display panel that showed what looked like a short, stubby, miniature aircraft carrier crashing through the waves below. “The distance to Guam is just over 3,300 nautical miles. And since we have a maximum range of just 1,600 miles, the three airships in our squadron are flying escort with this Austin class transport dock. This enables us to refuel and take on supplies periodically.”
“Why is it an Austin class ship?” Foster wanted to know. “The Navy promised us a San Antonio class amphibious transport dock.” His avatar accurately portrayed the deep scowl marring his features.
“Sir,” Pruitt used the word clinically, and Ranell sensed that his use of the honorific was not an expression of any deeply felt sense of respect. “IndoPacCom is the largest of the DoD’s six joint combatant commands with an area of operation that stretches from Pearl Harbor west to the Arabian Sea. This area spans thirty-six nations and half the world’s population, with seven of the ten largest military forces on earth. When the Navy says I get an Austin class LPD, I assume they have allocated the San Antonio class resources elsewhere.”
Foster turned to Vaughn, “This is a breach of contract, Cora.”
Vaughn took a deep breath and smoothed out some invisible wrinkles on her skirt. “Let’s not be too hasty throwing around words like that, Vern.” She nodded reassuringly at Captain Pruitt, “We understand that the new wartime powers act allows for some… ah… ‘flexibility’ when it comes to contractual agreements.”
“That’s above my pay grade, ma’am,” Pruitt replied tersely. “I’m here today just to review design specifications and share our performance findings.”
Foster’s scowl deepened, but he refrained from discussing contractual matters for the rest of the meeting.
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