Battleship

The deck of the Missouri was filled with naval officers from an assortment of countries. The United States, Japan, Great Britain, Australia, South Korea, India and more were all represented, and flags from each of the nations were fluttering in the morning breeze. Having left Sam to find a spot in the audience with the families and other guests, he threaded his way through the assemblage of naval officers, looking to find his friends while trying to make sure he didn’t draw any attention to himself.

He finally located Stone and slid in next to him. His brother kept his attention focused on the podium up front, but said out the side of his mouth, “Nice of you to show up, lieutenant commander.” He was big on invoking Hopper’s rank and getting formal when he was pissed off with him. It was Stone’s way of letting Hopper know that he was annoyed, not to mention underscore their difference in rank and reminding him who was in charge. “You ready for this? Or would you like to sleep in and we’ll just do the war games without you?”

“Hey, at least I’m here. I made pretty good time considering I woke up on the wrong island this morning,” he whispered back.

“The wrong island? Which one? Gilligan’s?”

“Ha-ha. Think the Jedi Master noticed?” It was the nickname that the officers had for Admiral Terrance Shane behind his back, because of his knack for saying things that his subordinates somehow felt compelled to repeat word for word, as if he were controlling their minds.

“Considering he’s glaring right at you, I’d say yeah.”

Hopper turned his attention to the podium and felt his heart sink to somewhere around his shoes. Sure enough, the admiral was staring down at him with clear disapproval. He was a towering presence, well over six feet, with aquiline features that made him appear like a cross between a hawk and a Roman senator. He spoke with a gravelly voice that had a lyrical Irish lilt to it.

“First off, I’d like to welcome all of you to the RIMPAC International Naval War Games,” said Shane. The way he was looking at Hopper, Alex had a feeling he personally wasn’t all that welcome. Shane then turned his attention back to the rest of the assemblage. “And I’d like to welcome you on board the greatest fighting ship in American naval history. The Mighty Mo. The USS Missouri, where, in Tokyo Bay, on September 2, 1945, Japan surrendered to General Douglas McArthur.”

There was applause throughout, although Hopper couldn’t help but notice that the response from the Japanese officers was, to put it mildly, muted. Either Admiral Shane didn’t notice or else he simply didn’t care. More likely the latter. He was going to say what he had to say, and obviously he didn’t give a damn who he pissed off.

Which pretty much guaranteed that he would have no difficulty whatsoever—when Hopper asked for Sam’s hand—of providing a detailed list of every single one of Hopper’s shortcomings, verbally making mincemeat out of him before showing him the door and telling him never to utter Sam’s name in his presence again.

We should just elope. It would run contrary to Sam’s fantasy of having her father perform the ceremony at sea, standing on the bridge of a ship in his capacity as captain. But hell, at least they’d be married and there wouldn’t be a damned thing the admiral would be able to do about it. What am I saying? Of course he could. He could have me court-martialed for… for any reason at all. Or just throw me overboard late one night. Hell, he could probably order Stone to do it, and depending on Stone’s mood that day, he just might be happy to obey. Oh God… I think my chest is tightening up. Is this what a heart attack feels like—?

Stone reached over and straightened Hopper’s ribbon bar, looking at him with genuine concern. “Jesus, man, you look like death warmed over,” he said softly. “You’re a mess.”

“Can’t breathe.”

“Relax.”

That was easy for Stone to say. He wasn’t the one who was preparing to walk into the lion’s den, hand the lion a knife and fork, expose his chest to him and say “Chow down.” Still, Hopper tried to do as Stone said and get his breathing under control.

“He hates me,” said Hopper.

“It’s gonna be fine. Just keep your distance from him today.”

Which was, of course, exactly what Hopper wanted to hear. Stone didn’t know about Hopper’s plan to approach his potential father-in-law today. Still: Stone ordered me to stay away from the admiral. He’s the ranking officer. I can’t disobey a direct order. Sorry, babe, it’ll have to wait. Sounds like a plan. A crap plan, but a plan.

Oblivious, or perhaps simply indifferent, to the turmoil that Hopper was going through, Shane said, “We have with us today veterans, some going back to World War II. Examples of the finest men to have ever served in any Navy.” Shane gestured to the vets, and applause rippled through the audience. Hopper clapped his hands purely as a response to everyone else; he wasn’t consciously thinking about it. Instead he was turning around to see if Sam had maybe, perhaps, been making out with some other officer, having completely forgotten about Hopper and deciding that she could do better. That would get him off the hook. But no, there she was, off to the side, looking at him with that same mixture of confidence and adoration. It was the way he’d dreamed of her looking at him when he’d first seen her at the bar.

“And now,” Shane was saying, “as we prepare to embark on this outstanding exercise of global cooperation and competition, I would like the commanding officers of every surface warfare ship involved in this year’s game to come to the stage.”

Stone stood up in response to the summons, patting his brother on the shoulder as he did so. “Stay out of trouble while I’m gone,” he said. It had become a running joke, one of those things that wasn’t funny to anyone outside of the family. It provided comfort and continuity to Hopper, or it irritated the hell out of him, depending on how he felt at any given moment. This was one of those occasions when he didn’t think about it at all, since he was so distracted by the emotions roiling within him.

Stone and the other commanding officers lined up behind the admiral. As they did so, a huge cake in the shape of the Missouri was wheeled up in front of them. Hopper saw it being brought forward and didn’t feel the least bit interested in eating any of it. That alone was more than enough to tell him he was off his game, if he hadn’t known already.

Admiral Shane turned and offered a rare smile to Hopper’s brother. “A special acknowledgment to American Stone Hopper, who—along with his outstanding crew and ship, the USS Sampson—had the highest overall rating last year and will be looking to repeat that terrific performance this year.”

Hopper felt momentary chagrin, as he frequently did whenever he heard the name of Stone’s ship. He remembered as if it were yesterday the first time he’d seen the name emblazoned on the side of the Arleigh Burke–class destroyer and airily informed his brother that some idiot had misspelled the name “Samson.” Stone had then patiently, and with an air of condescension that put Hopper’s teeth on edge, informed him that the vessel was named after Rear Admiral William T. Sampson and not the biblical judge and strong man.

Admiral Shane handed Stone a saber. Tragically it was a regular sword rather than a Jedi light sabre. It was a bit more weather-beaten than Navy swords typically were since it was reserved for ceremonies such as this, and cutting cakes weren’t exactly good for the blade. Yet Stone displayed great care as he took it from the admiral with a small bow, and then turned to face the audience.

“Welcome everybody,” said Stone. “It’s great to see you here. Your ships look outstanding and your men look ready. Good luck to you all, be safe, fight hard.”

He nodded once more as if affirming everything he’d just said and then sliced into the cake. The moment he did, the band launched into a stirring rendition of “Anchors Aweigh.” This disappointed Hopper, who was of the firm opinion that once, just once, the band should play the Village People’s “In the Navy.” Yeah. Opinions like that are why Stone’s up there and you’re down here.

“Hopper. What’s wrong?”

Raikes had come up beside him and was looking at him with genuine concern. “Seriously, Hopps. You look terrible. What’s on your mind?”

His mouth moved before he could stop it and the words all came out in a rush. “I was going to ask the admiral for permission to marry Sam except he totally hates me and you can’t tell anyone, okay. Please?”

She was clearly startled by the confession spilling from him. “Wow,” was all she could say.

“Seriously. Don’t tell anyone. None of the guys, and definitely not Stone.”