“Six hours or so, sir, if the yard does everything properly and we warm up the reactor while we’re still in the dock.” Looking both at the president and ADM Hughes, he asked, “When will Captain Mitchell be informed, sir? Technically, I’m still part of DEVRON Five, but I’m betting he hasn’t heard about any of this.”
“No, of course not,” Hardy answered almost automatically. He appeared distracted, and after a moment said, “I wish you and Captain Mitchell could spend some time together working out tactics for using the UUVs.”
“Is there any way to bring him in, sir?” Weiss asked. “We could organize a video conference.”
Both the CNO and Hardy immediately disagreed. Hughes said, “I wouldn’t trust a conversation about this operation being transmitted, secure channel or not.”
Hardy added, “And that’s not what I meant, Captain. I mean a couple of skull sessions where you can brainstorm ideas, then beat them to death and see which ones refuse to die.” He paused for a moment, then another, and finally said, “All right, Lou. I’m putting Captain Mitchell onboard as mission commander.”
Cavanaugh watched the others’ reactions. He understood what the president’s order implied about his confidence in Weiss, but the other officers’ protests, in spite of Hardy’s position, surprised him.
Weiss looked almost like he’d been slapped. “Mr. President, if you don’t think…”
The CNO was ready to intercede, and put an arm out to stop Weiss before he said something that couldn’t be unsaid. Even Gabriel and Forest looked like they wanted to say something, although he couldn’t image what.
Hardy held up a hand, motioning them all to calm down, which they did. “Lou, I’m going to be a hard-ass here. There’s a damn fine chance that you’ll pull this off brilliantly, but it’s not one hundred percent. It never will be, but I need it to be as high as we can possibly get it — the consequences of a failure are astronomical.
“I’ve been where you are. I understand this will reflect on you no matter what I say, but this mission is more than vital. I get better vibes with both Mitchell and you aboard than with just you. I’d put your entire chain of command on Carter if I thought it would help.
“This mission has to succeed, and I want you to put the success of the mission above everything else, including your personal feelings.”
Cavanaugh watched as numerous emotions passed across Weiss’s face. He remembered that Hardy was a former naval officer, and a submariner, too. He was giving Carter’s skipper plenty of time to absorb the news and deal with his feelings.
Weiss finally nodded. “I understand, Mr. President. Two heads are better than one. We’ll get it done.” Cavanaugh relaxed a little. Carter’s captain had used the pronoun “we” instead of “I.”
Hardy looked over to the CNO, who said, “I’ll get Commodore Mitchell moving right away. I’m sure we can have him in Groton by sailing.”
“Then I’ll leave you to work out the details, and wish you Godspeed and good hunting.” The president offered his hand to Weiss, who didn’t hesitate to take it, and even managed a small smile.
The president left, and Forest hurried over to Cavanaugh. “While Commander Weiss is working with us, I’ll have a driver take you home. Pack, and don’t bother with any cold weather gear. Carter probably won’t even surface until you’re back in Groton. I’ll send the driver instructions on where to take you after that, but you’ll be flying up with Carter’s captain to Groton, probably very late tonight. I hope you can sleep on airplanes.”
Cavanaugh grabbed the unclassified to-do list he’d started. It was the only thing he could take out of the room.
Forest warned him again, “Don’t speak to anyone about any of this. If you have to tell someone why you’re gone, just say it’s DoD business, and you’ll be ‘on the road.’ And that ‘Godspeed and good hunting’ applies to you too, now.” Forest shook his hand solemnly. “And don’t forget about Mrs. Gray.”
Emily was just beginning the bedtime festivities when the squadron duty officer called. She could tell it was from the squadron because the phone had a different ring. It was impossible to hear what Jerry was saying over splashing water and Charlotte’s singing. It didn’t last long, and after that, she was fully occupied with bathing a four-year-old who insisted, “I can do it!” As a mom, she’d learned long ago to set aside any expectation of efficiency and just accept the sheer randomness of it all.
The normal routine was for Jerry to clean up the bathroom while Emily carried a towel-wrapped Carly into her room for pajamas and stuffed animal selection. This time, though, he wasn’t standing by at the bathroom door, and by the time their daughter was in bed, he still hadn’t appeared.
Poking her head out in the hall, she could see the bathroom, untouched and unoccupied. She could hear him in their bedroom, though, and sternly warning their little one to “Stay in the bed!” she promised to be right back.
Then she saw his sea bag, laid out on the bed, already half-full, and her heart sank. Jerry sometimes rode his subs on short trips, but those were always planned well in advance. And Jerry was in a hurry, with that expression he wore when he was focused.
Emily didn’t bother with any of the obvious questions; besides, she didn’t want to distract him. “How long?” and then, “Where?”
He looked up at her questioning face, but didn’t stop moving. As he headed for the master bath with his empty shaving bag, he answered, “Three weeks. They want me in Groton as soon as possible. There’s a plane waiting for me.”
The overalls he wore underway were already in the bag, so she knew he wasn’t spending all that time in Groton. “You’re going out on a boat,” she stated flatly.
“Yes.” His reply was just as flat. She’d always been very open and vocal about the joys of a squadron commander’s wife, who got to see more of her husband than the spouses of the submarine crews. This would be the first time he’d be gone for so long since he’d taken over the squadron.
She’d put up with it while he was a submarine captain, sometimes for many months, mostly because she didn’t have any choice in the matter. Now, she found herself resenting even a three-week separation. Must be out of practice, she thought.
Jerry had a checklist on his smartphone that he used when he packed. He glanced at it one last time, paused, and looked around their bedroom. He grabbed a paperback from the nightstand and stuffed it into the bag before zipping it shut.
Emily had stood silently for the few moments it had taken him to finish. Jerry came over to where she stood and put his arms around her waist. “I’m sorry about this. If it’s any consolation, I’m not thrilled either.”
“Like you have a choice,” she responded glumly. She leaned against her husband’s chest, already missing him.
“Actually, this time they didn’t even ask. But I’m still sorry for the extra work it means for you, and being away from you and Carly. I’ll miss her first day of preschool.”
Emily did the math and knew he was right. She hadn’t even thought that far ahead. She tried to be supportive. “I’ll take lots of pictures.”
“Thank you for being a Navy wife.” He kissed her, and added, “And for marrying a sailor like me.”
“And you can’t tell me anything about where or what.” It was a statement of fact, but she hoped she was wrong, or that Jerry could give her a hint.
“I really can’t say anything because they didn’t tell me squat. Dylan read the whole message to me, Flash priority by the way, verbatim. ‘Get to Groton ASAP, transport being arranged. Be ready for a three-week underway.’” After a short pause, he added, “You know you can call Dylan if things get crazy here. The whole squadron will come running if you ask.”