Battleship

quieter?”

If there was one thing that Stone had no patience for at that moment, it was his brother’s hangover. He fought to keep his voice steady. “That girl you were trying to impress—her father runs the whole damned fleet. Rear Admiral Shane. So now you’re messing with my job.”

Instantly all his aches and pains were forgotten. Hopper looked up at Stone with renewed interest. “The burrito girl?” He could not have sounded more excited if Stone had told him that the secrets of the universe had been revealed to him. Actually he probably would have been less excited over that prospect. “You know the burrito girl?”

“Y’know, Hopper, you can be so freaking single-minded…” He shook his head. “If you could just, for once, devote that single-mindedness to something worthwhile… God, you could go anywhere. Do anything. Instead…”

“Sorry to be such a disappointment,” said Hopper. Which would have annoyed the hell out of his older brother except, somewhat to Stone’s surprise, Hopper really did sound somewhat contrite. More so than he ever had before, at any rate.

Something has to change…

Naked and bruised, Hopper pulled himself out of the ice bath. He moaned softly as he reached for a large towel and wrapped it around his middle. Every step he took was an exercise in agony, his body screaming at him over the way he’d abused it in the past twenty-four hours.

Hopper stumbled into the living room and then flopped onto the couch that doubled as his bed. “Pants,” he said groggily.

Stone ignored the request. If Hopper put on pants, there was nothing to impede his departing, and he needed to hear what Stone had to say. He stood over his younger brother, his arms folded across his chest. “Here’s the deal, Hopper. I’ve stayed out of your business for the last five years. I’ve watched you throw away every opportunity, every job, every break. You’ve got sixty-five dollars to your name, a car that does not start, you’re living on my couch…”

Hopper pulled a pillow over his head. From beneath it, his muffled voice said, “You know where I can find that girl? That admiral’s daughter?”

This was a typical Hopper approach to situations that he didn’t want to deal with. He would try to change the subject, or send Stone completely off track. Not this time. Stone summoned his best impression of their father, adopting the tone with which he would speak to his sons when he’d become completely fed up with whatever stupidity they’d gotten themselves into. Something has to change. “As of now,” he said sharply, “as of right this second, there’s a new dynamic at play. This dynamic is the following.” He held up his hand and started ticking off the points on his fingers. “From here on out, until I state otherwise, there is no more debate. No more discussion. No more compromise. There is, from here on out, me speaking and you listening. Me saying and you doing. It’s time for a new course of action. A new direction. A game change.”

Slowly Hopper emerged from under the pillow. He looked wearily at his brother. “What did you have in mind?”

Without a word Stone pointed at the tattoo on his arm.

“You’re kidding,” said Hopper.

“Do I look like I’m kidding? First we get you a proper haircut because, as much as enlistments may be down, I’m not entirely sure they’d take you looking like the slob that you are.”

“Thanks, bro.”

“Second, we get you inked up.”

Hopper looked uncertainly at his brother’s anchor. “Navy requires tattoos these days?”

“No, I’m requiring it. Think of it as a promissory note. Or a reaffirmation of brotherhood. Or proof that you’re serious about making changes.”

“Who said I’m serious about it?”

“I did. Because this is it, Hopps. This is the bottom line for you. One way or the other, you’re out of here. And it’s either into the arms of the Navy or it’s out into the street.”

“You’d do that to your own brother?”

“That’s nothing compared to what you’ve done to yourself.”

Hopper seemed as if he was about to fire off a response, but then he gave it a moment’s thought. “Touche,” he said reluctantly. Slowly he sat up and stared wearily at Stone. It was as if the fight had been knocked out of him.

Still, Stone felt uncomfortable. If all he did was force Hopper into doing this, then how much commitment was his brother likely to have to it? He could easily go AWOL, try to desert. Considering how he routinely screwed up everything, there was a tremendous likelihood that he’d wind up getting caught and sent to prison. How much good would Stone be doing his brother if his actions led to Alex being incarcerated?

It couldn’t be all one way. There had to be motivation for Alex beyond doing things because his brother told him to. Stone knew exactly what that motivation would be, and reluctantly decided it was pretty much the only card he had left to play.

“Sam,” he said.

Hopper looked confused.

“Burrito girl. Her name is Sam. Samantha. She’s studying to be a physical therapist. And she told me she was impressed by you.”

“She… She did?” Physical therapy. Jackpot.

“Well, actually what she said was that she thought you were nuts, but in a good way. But she said that if she went out with a guy who wasn’t in the Navy, her father would go ballistic. It’s a family thing. Can’t argue with family.”

Hopper slowly got to his feet, grunting in pain only once. “You’re making that up.”

“I swear on my life, I’m not. Hell, you can ask her yourself when I introduce you…”

“You… you’d do that?”

“Yeah.”

Hopper crossed the living room and threw his arms around his brother. Stone felt vaguely uncomfortable. “Dude… being hugged by a mostly naked brother… could you, y’know… not?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Hopper stepped back. “Yeah, that wasn’t cool. So… so when do I meet…” His voice trailed off as it sank in. “You’re introducing me after I enlist, aren’t you.” It wasn’t really a question.

“They say you never get a second chance to make a good first impression. But as it turns out, that’s exactly what you have,” said Stone. “You’re going to get spiffed up. You’re going to get enlisted. You’re going to get your life headed in a direction we can all be proud of. And then you’re going to get your second chance to make a good first impression.” He spit in the palm of his hand and held it out. “Deal?”

Hopper sighed heavily. “Y’know… if it were just my own future, I’d tell you to shove it. But we’re talking about the future of my unborn kids, so…” He spit in his own palm and they clasped hands firmly.

KAPI’OLANI PARK, 2012

It was a cloudless day, the sky an achingly perfect blue. The shouts of “Here! Over here!” and “Watch your back!” filled the field at Kapi’olani Park, a three-hundred-acre expanse named after Queen Kapi’olani, the 19th- century consort to a Hawaiian king. In the distance, Diamond Head loomed, and the more fanciful might imagine gods perched atop it, looking down at the foolish mortals engaging in their meaningless pursuits.

There was an all-purpose expanse of lawn that had been used variously for competitions ranging from football to baseball to just a few kids tossing around a Frisbee. On this particular day, it was host to a soccer game being played so intensely, so brutally, that one might think lives depended upon it.

Instead it was something of far greater import to the players involved: pride.

Over the sideline of the field fluttered a banner that read, “Navies of the Pacific Rim, Welcome to RIMPAC 2012.” No one was paying attention to it, however. Instead the several hundred fans were focused entirely on the game being played, screaming themselves raw with encouragement as two teams squared off for personal and