Targets Entangled by Kennedy Layne

this evening the radio that we are currently using for routine ship-to-shore comms for crewmembers was set at a frequency that we don’t normally use for those types of connections. I checked the op order, and the feq set we are using exactly matches those listed for routine MARS operations. It was an HF frequency that we aren’t authorized to use in a military band. I inquired about it to Roger, but he stated that the last one to use it was Joseph Paul from the engineering department, as per the log.”
    “Do you have reason to believe someone made an unauthorized, unrecorded ship-to-shore call?”
    Ferrin didn’t know the answer to his question and that was the problem. In all her time aboard The Promised Land everything had run smoothly. When she’d started her shift and one of the crewmembers had come in to make a call, she’d noticed right away that it was set on a totally wrong frequency. It wasn’t long after that she and Jerry received notice that the TATC-1 net started having issues. She’d quickly gotten the crewmember settled in for his call in between handling radio assignments and rekeying her end of the net, digging into the larger problem with AirOps.
    “I’m not sure, sir,” Ferrin answered honestly. They continued down the passageway as she handed over the night’s logs. “With the sensitivity of this mission, I thought it was something you should know. I’ll write down the frequency if it happens again. As it was, it caught me off guard and I started rolling in the MARS frequency before I realized how far off it was set originally.”
    Chief Jackson scanned the logs as they entered the mess hall and eventually handed the clipboard back to her. All that they’d been told was that they were going to be off the coast of Nigeria running a racetrack pattern in international waters. They would run just one long extended oval shaped course fifteen nautical miles off the coast. That was standard operating procedure when they weren’t going to make port in a hostile country.
    When that occurred one needed to establish a presence offshore and deploy in country via the NSW fast boats or with the helo. The fact that the ship contained sensitive materials and first line weapon systems made docking in a foreign country tenuous at best. Since they couldn’t allow custom officials to come aboard for inspection, many countries refused to allow them to come ashore legally. Even as a U.S. military contractor, several NATO allied countries refused routine refueling stops due to the nature of their weapons payloads alone. Most of the ship’s advanced weapons were defensive in nature, but many of their capabilities outweighed some of their potential host nations’ ability to counter them. Simply said, they weren’t welcome in many ports including those that would have routinely granted U.S. Navy ships access with the same high tech systems.
    “I want to be immediately notified if this error occurs again.” Chief Jackson and Ferrin walked into the galley to find it somewhat empty with hardly anyone in line. “What are you having?”
    “Just a pastry,” Ferrin replied, pointing to the cinnamon roll with extra icing. She curiously glanced forward toward the galley, but everyone appeared to be going about his or her normal activities without concern. The hatch was standing open and everything appeared to be up and running after the fire the other day. “I won’t sleep if I have any more coffee.”
    “You’re going to waste away into nothing,” Chief Jackson muttered, picking up a tray and then ordering three eggs over easy while he piled on quite a large heap of bacon, toast, and hash browns. He chose the pastry that she wanted as they waited patiently for his breakfast. “My team needs to be healthy. I don’t want to hear again that you’re skipping meals. Are we clear?”
    Ferrin hid a smile at his attempt to get her to listen to him as she snagged an orange juice. The chief had a wife and two