Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

W.E.B. Griffin is also the author of the bestselling Brotherhood of War, Men at War, Badge of Honor, and Honor Bound series. He lives in Alabama.

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Under Fire

Random House Large Print Publishing

Chapter One

North Latitude 36 Degrees 59 Minutes, East Longitude 143 Degrees 77 Minutes

(Above the Pacific Ocean, near Japan)

1100 1 June 1950

"This is the First Officer speaking," the copilot of Trans-Global Airways Flight 907 said into the public address system microphone. "We are about to begin our descent into Tokyo's Haneda Airport, and have been advised it may get a little bumpy at lower altitudes. So please take your seats and fasten your seat belts, and very shortly we'll have you on the ground."

Trans-Global Flight 907 was a triple-tailed, five-months-old Lockheed L-1049 Constellation, christened Los Angeles.

The navigator, who wore pilot's wings, and who would move up to a copilot's seat when TGA accepted-next week, he hoped-what would be the eighteenth Constellation in the TGA fleet, did some calculations at his desk, then stood up and murmured, "Excuse me, sir," to the man in the jump seat.

The man in the jump seat (a fold-out seat between and immediately behind the pilot's and co-pilot's seats) looked over his shoulder at him in annoyance, finally realized what he wanted, muttered, "Sorry," and made room for the navigator to hand a sheet of paper to the copilot.

The navigator made his way back to his little desk, strapped himself in, and put on his earphones, in time to hear:

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the first officer again. I have just been advised by our navigator-this is all subject to official confirmation, of course-that it appears that a very, very favorable tailwind in the last few hours is probably going to permit us to again set a world's record for the fastest regularly scheduled commercial flight time from San Francisco to Tokyo, with intermediate stops at Honolulu and Wake Island.

"The current speed record is held by a TGA Constellation flown by Captain M. S. Pickering, who is our captain today. If our computations are correct, and are confirmed by the appropriate authorities, TGA will be delighted to send each of you a certificate attesting to your presence aboard today. Keep your fingers crossed."

Captain M. S. Pickering turned and looked at the man in the jump seat.

"You'd better get in the back, Dad."

Fleming Pickering-a tall, large, well-tailored, silver-haired, rather handsome man who was, as he privately thought of it, One Year Past The Big Five Zero-nodded his acceptance of the order and moved to comply with it, although he had really hoped he would be permitted to keep the jump seat through the landing.

He wasn't wearing earphones and had not heard a word of either of the copilots' announcements.

He left the cockpit, musing that they were now starting to call it the "flight deck," and then, when he saw his seat and seatmate, musing that while there was a good deal to be said about the benefits of crossing the Pacific Ocean at 325 knots, there were certain drawbacks, high among them that if you found yourself seated beside a horse's ass when you first boarded the aircraft, you were stuck with the sonofabitch for the rest of the flight.

It was different on a ship; you could avoid people on a ship.

Had been different on a ship, he corrected himself. Passenger ships, ocean liners, were as obsolete as buggy whips. There once had been fourteen passenger ships in the Pacific & Far East fleet. Now there was one.

Pickering nodded politely at the horse's ass in the window seat, sat down beside him, and fastened his seat belt.

"Up front, were you?" the horse's ass inquired. "I didn't know they let passengers go in the cockpit."

"My son is the pilot," Pickering said.

"And I guess if you're the pilot, you can break the rules for your old man, right?"

"And I work for the airline," Pickering said.

"No kidding? What do you do?"

"I'm in administration," Pickering said.

That was not the whole truth. Trans-Global Airways was a wholly owned subsidiary of the Pacific & Far East Shipping Corporation. When the Wall Street Journal, in a story about Trans-Global, mentioned P&FE, it used the phrase "privately held." The Pickering family owned P&FE, and Fleming Pickering, pater familias, was chairman of the board.

"So you're on a business trip?" the horse's ass asked.

"That's right," Pickering said, smiling with an effort.

That wasn't exactly true, either.

While it was true that he was going to Tokyo to participate in a conference between a dozen shipping companies-both air and what now had become "surface"-serving the Far East, it was also true that he was going to spend as little time as possible actually conferring with anyone. He was instead going to spend some time with a young couple-a Marine captain and his wife-who were stationed in Tokyo. He had never told either of them, but he regarded both of them as his children, although there was no blood connection.

When Pickering had been a young man, being groomed to take over P&FE from his father, Captain Richard Pickering, his father had told him over and over the basic rule of success as a mariner or a businessman: Find capable subordinates, give them a clear mission, and then get out of their way and let them do their jobs.

Fleming Pickering had capable subordinates who knew what he expected of them. And-very likely, he thought, because he did not get in their way and let them do their jobs-they did their jobs very well; in his opinion, far better than their peers elsewhere in the shipping business

They would do the conferring in Tokyo, and he would not get in their way.

What had happened was, the previous Wednesday, Chairman of the Board Pickering had, as was his custom, arrived at his San Francisco office at precisely 9 A.M.

It was an impressive office, occupying the southwest quarter of the upper (tenth) story of the P&FE Building. In some ways, it was museum like:

There were four glass cases. Two of the four held precisely crafted models of each of the ninety-one vessels of the P&FE fleet, all built to the same scale, and each about two feet in length. There were tankers, bulk-carriers, freighters, and one passenger liner.

The other two glass cases held far larger models. In one was a six-foot-long, exquisitely detailed model of the clipper ship Pacific Princess (Richard Pickering, Master), which had set-and still held-the San Francisco-Shanghai speed record for sailing vessels. The other glass case held a thirteen-foot-long model of the 51,000-ton SS Pacific Princess (Fleming Pickering, Master), a sleek passenger ship that had set-and still held-the San Francisco-Shanghai speed record on her maiden voyage in 1941.

Hanging on nearly invisible wires above the clipper's glass case was a model of a Chance Vought CORSAIR F4U fighter aircraft. It had been built by the same firm of craftsmen who had built the ship models, and, like them, was correct in every detail. The legend "MARINES" was painted in large letters on the fuselage. Below it was lettered VMF-229, and below the cockpit window was the legend "M.S. Pickering, Major, USMCR" and nine small representations of the Japanese battle flag, each signifying an enemy aircraft downed by Major Pickering.

Suspended above the glass case holding the model of the SS Pacific Princess, there was a model of the Trans-Global Airways Lockheed Model L049 Constellation San Francisco, a four-engined triple-tailed airliner, in which TGA Chief Pilot Captain Malcolm S. Pickering had set two world's records, one for fastest commercial aviation flight between San Francisco and Honolulu, and the other...