Having obtained the harpoons, Storm endeavored to get into position to use them. He remained on a southerly course toward the Indian Ocean. The Chinese aircraft carrier
In the days when wind powered a sailing ship, a captain had a great deal of autonomy and could easily set a course that would bring him against an enemy; it was how many a master had won the accolades of triumph and treasure. Even a captain in the early Cold War era often had leeway to sail more or less where he pleased; there was simply no way for the admirals to keep complete track of him.
But Storm belonged to a different time.
“Why is your course paralleling the
“We’re just remaining in a position to be of use if necessary,” said Storm.
“The
“I have resupplied,” said Storm. “I have Harpoon missiles and my ship is ready for combat.”
“Where did you get the missiles?”
“Dreamland gave them to me,” he said.
The admiral’s face turned even redder.
“We don’t have a full complement, but I have more than enough to sink the
“You will
“I meant—”
“Let me talk to your executive officer.”
“But—”
Storm felt his legs tremble beneath the small desk where he was sitting. He knew the video camera was showing Woods everything he was doing, so he moved as deliberately as possible, picking up the handset on his desk and calmly asking Eyes to his cabin. When he returned the phone to its cradle, he looked at the screen, trying to narrow his eyes in a show of concentration and sincerity. It wasn’t a lie; he was being both focused and forthright. But he wanted his face to match what he felt.
“Admiral,” said Storm, “let me make my case. I simply want to be nearby if—”
“There is no case to be made, Storm. No ifs. No anything. Your ship is not to engage the
“I’m talking about making sure the
“Flight operations from the
“They’ve already shot at our planes.”
“Not in two days. And for all we know, Bastian egged them on,” said Woods. “Is that why he gave you the missiles? Are you two trying to start a war?”
“That’s unfair. We carried out orders—”
“Then carry out these.”
Storm clamped his teeth together, knowing that if he said one word he’d say a dozen, and if he said a dozen he’d say a hundred, each an expletive.
There was a knock at the cabin door. Storm got up and opened it.
“You wanted to see me?” Eyes asked.
Storm pointed to the video screen. Looking a bit bewildered, the executive officer sat down in Storm’s extra chair.
“Lieutenant Commander Eisenberg,” said Admiral Woods. “If Captain Gale makes an aggressive move toward the Chinese aircraft carrier
“I, well, uh—”
“Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“These are your orders, gentlemen. Since you have found a way to resupply and do not wish to rest, you are to sail to the area of the Cherbani Reef and act as a picket ship for any of our vessels moving toward the
“What if we’re fired on?” blurted Storm.
“Then you badly screwed up.”
“I have to be able to defend myself.”
“You better not be in a position where you need to.”
Eyes glanced at Storm. “Admiral, I’m not sure—”
“What is it that you’re unsure of, Commander? Following orders?”
“I can follow orders, Admiral.”
“Then do it.”
The picture dissolved into black.
Sergeant Liu believed the man was telling the truth, but he’d learned long ago that belief and reality were sometimes different things. He pulled the car off the road a half mile from the man’s house and sent Blow and Sergeant Kurt Jones up the road to check out the house. Ten minutes later Jonesy checked in over the short-range Whiplash channel.
“House is clear — this lady is about to drop an egg any second, Liu. Better get the mojo on.”
Jones hadn’t been exaggerating. By the time Liu and her husband got inside, the woman’s grunts were shaking the small two-room house. The only illumination came from a small kerosene lantern on a dresser set at the side of the room.
Jonesy’s flashlight, shined on the small bed where the wife was giving birth. “I can see the head, Sarge. A lot of hair,” he added. “I think Blow’s the dad.”
“Har har.”
Liu set down his medical bag and dropped to his knees. As he did, the baby’s head and upper torso appeared, along with a gush of meconium, the greenish liquid waste and birth fluids. The baby’s eyebrows appeared, then disappeared as the mother’s contractions starting to tug it back inside.
“You have to stay with us, little one,” said Liu, starting to grab for the newborn.
Just as he got his hands down, the mother’s body gave one last shudder. Her new son slid out into Liu’s arms. Jones reached in and cut the cord with his knife.
“Towels, swabs — we got to clean his face. Can’t let him eat this crap,” said Liu, cradling the infant in his arm so he could wipe the meconium from the infant’s mouth.
“It’s turning blue, Nurse,” said Blow, pointing as he handed over a towel.
The baby wasn’t breathing. Liu gave the child a gentle smack, but that didn’t seem to have an effect. He placed it down on the floor, bending over to try mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
As he did, the father began to scream and started pounding Liu on the back. Blow grabbed him and threw him against the wall. Then the mother started to scream too. Jonesy dropped down to hold her arms.
The only people in the room who were quiet were the baby and Liu. The sergeant struggled to get the infant to breathe. The infant seemed to gasp, but then gave up. The sergeant kept trying.
