“I’m going home.” Josh walked to Mara’s door and knocked, even though he knew she wouldn’t be there. He knocked twice, called her name, then decided it was time to leave.
He wanted to see her. He wanted more than that. But it was time to move on.
Tex trailed him down the hall to the elevator.
“I’m not sure about this,” said the marshal.
“I’m not under arrest, right?”
“Well, no, of course not.”
“Then I’m going home.”
10
“Well, that’s bullshit. They’re not going to sail from China to Vietnam to deliver weapons.”
The communications officer gave Silas an embarrassed look. Obviously, he had no idea what fleet was up to.
“All right. I’ll talk to them from my quarters. Where is Lieutenant Commander Li?”
“She was in the Command Center when I left, sir.”
“Very good.”
Silas went into his cabin, secured the door, and then flipped on his secure link to fleet. The satellite system provided an encrypted, realtime link to practically every Navy command in the world, all the ships at sea, and the Pentagon. It was a double-edged sword, as it gave those sailing the desks back home considerably more opportunity to interfere with the captains on the front line.
In Silas’s opinion, of course.
“There are you are, Silas,” said Captain Mortez. He was Admiral Meeve’s chief of staff.
“What’s the story on these merchant ships. Why am I supposed to intercept them?”
“We think they’re carrying Chinese troops.”
“What? According to this, the ships are registered in the Philippines.”
“Don’t believe everything you read. Can you get to them?”
“Depends where they’re headed. In the meantime I’ve got a hurricane blowing up my fantail.”
“I’ve seen the weather reports. Can you stop those ships?”
“I can sink them.”
“Dirk, why do you give me a hard time?”
“Because you know and I know they should be sunk if they’re Chinese.”
“Even if I agreed with you — which I’m not saying I do — that isn’t the admiral’s order. You board them under UN sanction 2014-3-2 and search them. All right?”
“What if they don’t want to be boarded?”
“We’ll deal with that when we get to it. The admiral will want you to be in communication at that point anyway.”
“Doesn’t trust me?”
“You’re busting my chops.”
“You’ve been ashore too long, Tommy.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you. Contact us every hour to let us know what’s going on.”
“Are our carriers moving in my direction?”
“Not at the present time,” said Mortez. “Everything else is staying near Taiwan. You’re on your own. You don’t think you can handle it?”
“I can handle it,” said Silas. He reached for the kill button.
11
Nurses, doctors, and attendants flitted around his bed. He had trouble opening his eyes. When finally they opened, the light was so intense he had to close them again. He gasped for air, struggled, then breathed as if for the first time.
When he finally managed to keep his eyes open and focused, he found General Harland Perry standing next to his bed. To the general’s right was Melanie Behrens, the American ambassador to Vietnam.
“Major, are you with us?” asked Perry.
“Sir, I’m good.”
“Glad to hear it.” Perry gave him a broad smile. “Doctors claimed you’d sleep for a month.”
“Nah, I’m awake.”
“Maybe you should rest,” said Ambassador Behrens. “They said you were dehydrated.”
Zeus pulled himself upright. He felt a little woozy.
“How’s Major Christian?” he asked.
“Already checked out,” said Perry.
No way Zeus was staying in bed now. He looked around the ward. It was a large room with space for about a dozen beds. Those across from him were packed closely together, the space between them barely enough for a nurse or doctor to edge into. His own bed had three times as much space around it — a gesture toward VIP status, he guessed.
Little else about his immediate surroundings could be considered exclusive, however; there were no monitors, and the saline drip was hung from the ceiling by a thin metal chain, which ended in a blunt, oversized fishhook. There were carts of equipment parked near the foot of the bed next to him, and more extensive equipment a little farther down to his left.
“General, the Chinese have tanks on the border,” Zeus told Perry. “They’re ready to come across. They must already be across. There was a bunker…”
“We know all about the bunker,” said Perry. “And the fuel accident.”
“It wasn’t an accident,” said Zeus.
“Major, I believe you are mistaken,” said Behrens. “You may have a fever. You are in no position to know what is happening on the Chinese side of the border.”
Behrens was a small, petite woman; barely five foot. But she had the voice of a tigress, sharp and commanding. It brooked no discussion, let alone argument.
Perry smiled down at him.
“See you when you’re rested up,” said the general, starting away with Behrens.
“I’ll be in soon,” said Zeus.
When they were gone, he took stock of his situation. He pulled up the tight pajama shirt they’d dressed him in. The left side looked fine, but there were several large welts on the other. Oddly, he felt pain only on the right side.
His right knee felt a little funny. It was slightly swollen, but not really painful. There were numerous scratches and tiny cuts along his lower legs, and his arms looked like they were crisscrossed with graffiti.
All things considered, he was in good shape. The only possible complication was the bag of saline hanging from the ceiling. Zeus looked at the needle taped into his arm, then followed the rubber tubing back up to the bag.
