“I brought over the stuff that you wanted to see.  The inside information about Venome, the operations...”  Schofield extends a thick folder towards the Lt. Col.  “There’s still a lot we haven’t covered.”

“Fine,” Debbi interrupts her, “we had to get up early anyway.”

Just then, Razor recalls the alarm going off unusually early and asks, “Why were we up so early this morning, Debbi?”

“We have to go to the flight hangar.   HP needs to be fixed and I have a meeting with my people about this takeover,” his wife clarifies.

“HP?” Brandi poses, “not the....”

“The High Priest of Holocaust,” Debbi finishes.  “Yes.”

Schofield is amazed beyond words.  “We heard stories about her back in flight school,” she rambles, “it’s a legend!  Like you really.  You still have her?”

“Yes,” Debbi says, becomes annoyed, “and since you won’t leave me alone until you can see it, you might as well come along.  Besides, I’ll need you to explain a few things to my crew.”

Although she hates admitting Debbi is a better pilot, Brandi still has enormous respect for her accomplishments.   The High Priest of Holocaust was a pilot’s worst nightmare.  Debbi used that modified F-14 to win all three USAF Top Gun awards.  It was rumored to be one of the most sophisticated fighters in its time, and supposedly, Smith instituted the advancements herself.  Lt. Col. Smith could make that fighter perform like no other in its class.  In the Red Flag competition of 2009, the High Priest of Holocaust outclassed and outmaneuvered top-of-the-line F/A-18s with an unprecedented 38 to 1 kill rate.

With that kind of admiration, there is even more resentment.  Debbi Smith achieved more in the past ten years than Brandi ever will.  Even Debbi’s marriage pisses Schofield off.  Brandi is way too intimidating to most men and the others just plain treat her like shit.  The only thing she has going for her, she feels, is her flight skills.   Even there, like everything else, she feels second to Debbi and Brandi hates it.  Since they met in eighth grade, Brandi always felt in competition to Debbi Smith.  No matter what Brandi did, Smith had to do it just a little bit better.  Debbi was smarter, prettier, more popular and to top it all off, she was several years younger.  Having entered school immediately into the third grade, Smith has become accustomed to being the youngest.

“Give me a run down of the power structure,” Debbi says while fixing her hair.

“There are three central Domains,” Brandi commences, “Information, Operations and Tactical.  Under each domain there are divisions, of which there are eight, and under the divisions are departments, sections and teams.  The head of each domain, as well as the head of each division make up the Executive Committee, known as the High Council—twelve chairs in all.  The High Council makes all the rules for the army and is the single, most powerful institution.  All law stops and starts at the High Council.

“Your title is Chief Executive Officer, the very top of the command line.”  Brandi retrieves an official Venome ranking document and uses it as a reference to Debbi.  “The Domain heads are known as XDOs or Executive Domain Officers.  Next in line are the CDOs, Chief Division Officers; one for each Division.  Under those are the CDDs, Chief Department Directors.”

“Where are you?” Debbi asks.

“I’m Senior Division Officer of the Air Command, commonly called Flight Division.” Brandi answers.

“So you have a seat on the High Council?”

“No,” Brandi adds, embittered.  Referring to the diagram once again, she explains, “Senior Division Officer is one post below, kind of like a back-up should something happen to the Chief Division Officer.  The CDO really does nothing but vote on High Council measures and the SDO oversees the entire division.  I run Flight Division, but I have to answer to the CDO.”

“I understand,” Debbi nods.  “You’ll have the council chair when we take over.”

Brandi falls speechless.  She never expected to see a High Council chair in her lifetime.  Unless, that is, she has Provocation set up a council member for a fall.

“Of the existing council members, how many can I trust?” Debbi further inquires.

“None of them,” Schofield bluntly puts forth.

“That’s what I thought.  They’ll have to be replaced.”

pages:
10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20