The words sounded logical. McReidy could tell by the lack of fire in his eyes that there was more to it. “The bad news?”
John picked up his pen andcrossed a line through the two lone cruisers. “We lose these two ships. TheAndromedans would know they’ve been discovered and would attack the fleet.”
“I assume we have anotheroption.”
“We join the fleet at Polgar. Pick up these two ships on the way out and make a stand.”
There was a long silence duringwhich McReidy could say nothing. Her mind went completely blank. Any time shecame close to even thinking of something, the words wouldn’t come out.
“Bismarck is ready for it,” Johnencouraged a response. Any response.
“How many are there?” she finallymanaged.
“I don’t know.”
“Reinforcements?”
“I don’t know.”
For every query she had, he hadno answer.
“We have a third choice,” shedecided.
John hesitated a moment. Hedidn’t believe he had missed anything.
“We could keep out of it.” McReidy tried to bring a moment of lightness to the situation.
“Maybe you can, but I can’t,” heconfirmed his intentions. “We have two choices. We take out Velos and stay onschedule without anyone being the wiser. They will immediately attack thefleet and these two ships are sacrificed.”
“Can’t we warn them?”
John shook his head. “They’re intoo far. They’d be completely cut off. Or,” he continued on his main line. “We join the fleet. We get those ships back safely before the first attack. By doing so, we disobey every order we’ve received, we give ourselves awaycompletely, and make ourselves just as much a target as everyone else. We loseevery advantage Bismarck has got. When the reinforcements arrive, they’ll cutthe fleet to pieces… The only advantage is that we force their hand a bitearlier than they’d like.”
Everything he said told McReidyto attack Velos. Without reinforcements, the fleet would stand a reasonablechance. Statistically, the loss of two ships ranked as a minor casualty. Shelooked again at the map. Territorially, the fleet was almost completelysurrounded. There was no escape; they would have to fight their way out.
If the choice was so obvious, whydid he want her opinion? She looked from the map to his face. He showednothing. The brick wall was up but she felt a sense of loneliness about him. It was something he couldn’t hide from her.
“What is it you’re not saying?”
He leaned forward over the mapand circled one of the crossed out ships. She saw the sorrow in his eyes. Hisvoice betrayed nothing. “That’s Shimodo.”
“Sean!” The word was barely abreath. The world closed in around her. Not Sean!
She looked to John for ananswer. She was in empathy with him. For a moment, she knew him completely;knew how his head worked, knew how his heart worked.
All common sense flew out thewindow. What had he called it – shades of grey? The problem was black andwhite, the answer wasn’t. It was wrong to leave Velos alone and risk theentire fleet. It was even more wrong to sacrifice Sean. She couldn’t livewith that guilt.
“There’s no hurry. We don’t haveto commit ourselves until we reach this point,” he indicated on the map. “Oncethere, there’s no turning back.”
Her eyes flicked to the map, butshe barely noticed it. She was focused on his hand. It was warm and big,possessing a tenderness she could almost feel and an incredible emotionalstrength she needed to draw on. How easy it would be to fall apart right now. His own personal weakness would force him to comfort her.
Instead, she tore her eyes away. She tried unsuccessfully to smile bravely as she met him. “Tell me again whythis is a bad idea?”
His hand pulled away and heflicked the intercom. “Giacomo, set a course for Polgar.”
“Yes, sir.”
McReidy was on her feet. Herknees felt weak; she couldn’t move. John was around from behind the deskbefore she realised it. He saw the tear form in the corner of her eye. Hishand instinctively rose to her face to brush it away. He paused for a second,only inches away, and bit his bottom lip.
She struck out angrily, knockinghis arm away. “How could you ask me to choose?” she demanded.
“The choice was never yours. Ihad to know I was right.” He pleaded for understanding.
Understanding? She agreed withhim! Maybe he had wanted her to talk him out of it. She reasoned he had triedhard enough to talk himself out of it.
She knew how much it tore himup. It was personal. Well, at least Gillespie didn’t have to worry about Johnturning into just another officer. Any sane person would never have made thatdecision.
* * *
The fleet was a good three daysaway. The tension on the bridge was obvious. Something was up. No one knewwhat, and the only two who did weren’t talking.
It was another all night sessionin John’s quarters reviewing the day’s data and trying to figure out what theywould do when they reached the fleet. John didn’t have a plan. That in itselfwas not unusual. A rational decision was well thought out. When his hearttook over, there was no thought.
There was nothing new in the datathat had come in that day. Nothing that was of any benefit to them. John yawnedand stretched, rubbing his forehead. The pen dropped from his hand. Hewatched it hit the desk and stared aimlessly. He was tired. Nothing wasmaking sense. He frowned at McReidy.
She was leaning back comfortablyin the chair opposite with a set of earphones on. She often preferred tolisten to the audio tapes when the transcripts made little sense. Why did shelook so awake? He knew the answer to that. She was the one who had had adecent night’s sleep.
“Coffee?” he asked.
There was no answer.
He pushed out of his chair andcame around beside her, pulling one earphone away from her head. “Coffee?” herepeated.
McReidy nodded. “Thanks.” Theearphone snapped back a bit too quickly.
A few minutes later, he placedthe steaming mug on the desk in front of her. He picked up a handful of papersand settled himself on the lounge. It was far more comfortable. The mug wenton the coffee table. He lay on his back, his head resting on the arm of thelounge, his feet reaching along the length. He kicked his boots
