“Damn it, Breanna. Get the hell up. Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me!”
He balled his hand into a fist and pounded his own forehead. The anger disintegrated into fear. Slowly, he recapped the bottle. Tucking it away, he sucked the remaining moisture from his fingers, then crawled out of the tent to see what the new day would bring.
Storm stood on the deck, ignoring the spray as the ship’s low-slung bow ducked up and down in the waves. In order to provide the smallest possible radar signature to an enemy, the
Storm liked it, though; standing on it gave you the feeling that you were part of the water. The salt really was in the wind, as the old cliche had it, and that wind rubbed your face and hands raw. It flapped against your sides, scrubbing the diseases of land away, rubbing off the pollution of politics and bureaucratic bullshit.
Should he defy Woods? The admiral was wrong, clearly wrong — even if the Chinese weren’t preparing the
Especially since she had a nuclear weapon aboard.
Sink her. It would take less than a half hour now.
The opportunity was slipping through his grasp. The
A gust of wind caught him off balance, nearly sending him off his feet.
Storm steadied himself. He would follow his orders, even if they were misguided. It was his job and his duty. Besides, Eyes would never go against the admiral. He would have to lock him up.
No, that was foolishness. Woods had taken his moment of glory away out of jealousy, and Storm knew there was nothing he could do about it but stand and stare in the
Lieutenant dancer was waiting for Danny when the Osprey touched with its water-logged load at the Marine camp in the Indian desert. The sun was just starting to rise, and it sent a pink glow across the sand, bathing the woman in an ethereal, angel-like light. It was a good thing Jennifer was with him, Danny thought, because he wouldn’t have trusted himself otherwise.
“Captain Freah, welcome back,” said Dancer, stepping forward and extending her hand. “Glad you’re in one piece.”
“Never a doubt,” said Danny. “How are you, Lieutenant?”
Dancer gave Jennifer a puzzled look. “How did you get here?”
“We needed an expert to look at some of the wiring and circuits on the missiles,” said Danny. “And Jen was available. She jumped in with the Whiplash team.”
“You’re qualified to jump?”
“Jumping’s the easy part,” said Jennifer. “It’s the landing that’s tough.”
Dancer turned back to Danny. “Captain, we have to talk. What happened out there?”
Danny explained about the stillborn baby and the disaster that had followed its birth. Dancer had already heard a similar version of the story from the Marines who were on the mission — including Gunny, who had made it a point to say that he’d advised against sending the men.
“He did,” said Danny. “I take responsibility for my men.”
“The general is worried about how it will look public-relations-wise,” said Dancer. She seemed to disapprove as well, though she didn’t say so.
“Nothing I can do about that.”
Dancer nodded grimly. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” said Danny.
“I have to talk to the pilots,” said Dancer. “I’ll be back.”
“Sure.”
Danny watched her trot away. His attraction toward her hadn’t faded, though it seemed to him she could have been more supportive.
“Lieutenant Klacker’s a pretty unique Marine,” said Jennifer.
“How do you mean?”
“Oh, it’s OK, Danny. I know.”
“Know what?”
She laughed. “Nothing.”
“No, seriously, Jen. Know what?”
“Nothing…You have a crush on her, that’s all.”
“No, I don’t.”
Jennifer laughed even harder.
“I’m married,” said Danny, wondering if he was talking to Jennifer or to himself.
Jennifer smirked, then changed the subject. “Where do you think I can find something to eat around here?”
“There’s a temporary mess tent in that direction,” said Danny, pointing. “They may not have anything hot.”
“As long as it’s edible.”
“That may be pushing it as well,” he said.
“What’d he say?” demanded Blow as soon as he saw Sergeant Liu.
“What do you mean?” Liu asked his fellow Whiplasher.
“Did Captain Freah say something about what happened?”
Jonesy, silent, stared at them from a nearby stool. The sun had just come up, and Liu found its harsh light oppressive, pushing into the corner of his tired eyes.
“You know Cap,” said Liu. “He said what he was going to say already. Case closed.”
“It ain’t closed, Liu. We’re going to be up to our necks because of this.” Blow shook his head and made the loud sigh that had earned him his nickname. “Man, I don’t know.”
“There wasn’t anything we could have done differently,” Liu told him. “I believe that.”
“Is anybody else gonna? We shoulda kept quiet about it. Shit.”
“No, we did the right thing,” said Liu. “God has a plan.”
“God?” said Jones.
“Yeah.”
Jones continued to stare blankly toward him. Liu wanted to tell him — both of them, but Jones especially — what he had felt in the water, what he’d realized, but he couldn’t put it into words. He’d passed some sort of line, not in understanding, but in trusting — but how did you say that? The words would just sound silly, and not convey a tenth of the meaning. He couldn’t even tell himself what had happened.
“I don’t know,” said Blow. “I think they’re going to court-martial us. There’ll be an investigation.”
“Colonel Bastian will understand,” said Liu.
“He’s not going to be in charge of it. We’re supposed to go to the aircraft carrier to talk to Woods. The admiral. You know what that will be like.”
“We know what happened,” said Liu. “And the smart helmets will back us up.”
“Nobody’s going to believe that’s the whole story.”
“They’ll just have to.”
“It really went to shit, didn’t it?” said Jonesy.
Less than forty-eight hours into his command, and already he was scheduled for a tete-a-tete with the
