“Yeah, let’s go over to CDC,” agreed CAG. When Olive entered the room, Wilson motioned her over.
“Olive, we’re going over to Combat. Hang out here, and help Commander Maher with his questions. We should be back shortly.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” she replied.
Combat Decision Center was another cool and dark room located in an adjacent space forward. The ship’s command center, it was filled with digital displays of the air and water space around Coral Sea. Shadowy figures wearing jackets and sweaters sat in cushioned chairs bolted to the deck in front of a maze of tactical displays.
“Where’s three-zero-two?” CAG asked as he rounded a console to meet the Watch Officer. CAG and Wilson sought to find Trench themselves on the big display.
Pointing at the display, the Watch Officer responded. “He’s here sir, and three-zero-five is here, about twenty miles away on the join-up.” The two pilots watched the blips slowly converge, one of them flashing an emergency code. About fifty miles out, Wilson surmised. Just then he recognized Annie on the radio speaker.
“Strike, Ridgeline three-zero-five. Contact one-four-five, eighteen miles, angels eight.”
Wilson heard the sailor on the console speak into his lip mike. “Ridgeline, that contact is three-zero-two.”
Wilson stood over the controller’s shoulder and watched his scope. The radar blips signified that Annie and Big Jake were tracking east-southeast in an effort to rendezvous on Trench who was heading north.
All knew that a “Mode One” hands-off approach was the only way to get 302 aboard. The aircraft had an automatic throttle control (ATC) that kept the jet at the proper landing airspeed once the gear and flaps were down. It also had a fly-by-wire flight control system that could be “coupled” to respond to commands sent via data link from the ship. For things to work properly, 302 needed the ATC, flight control computers, and data link to be operational; any single malfunction was a showstopper.
The ship’s final control radar needed to work, too. At least the weather conditions were not a factor. CAG put in a call to the Captain.
“Rick, Tim down in CDC. We’ve got Annie Schofield joining on three-oh-two. They are about fifty miles south. What are you thinking?”
Wilson watched CAG nod and tried to decipher the conversation. CAG Matson continued.
“Okay, great, if Annie can get him back here in a position to couple-up, we’ll have a chance. I’ve got Flip Wilson standing next to me, and he’ll check with his people on the aircraft status. Rat is here, too, and I’m sending him up to the platform now. Roger, thanks.”