“Outrageous,” Tiltfelt said. He glanced over at her, assessing her mood. “To bomb Ukraineconduct what they call a surgical strike against a military baseabsolutely outrageous in view of the Ukrainians’ gesture of friendship.”
Pamela toyed with the empty coffee cup. “I wouldn’t be so certain about that,” she said noncommittally. “Tombstone usually has a reason for what he does. I may not always agree with him, but I’ve never known him to act foolishly. Not often anyway,” she finished, her eyes narrowing as she thought of Commander Joyce “Tomboy” Flynn. “At least not in tactics.”
“I can see no justification for his conduct,” Tiltfelt said solemnly. “When I return to Washington, my top priority will be to have him relieved of command. A loose cannon in today’s Navythe world situation is far too delicate for this sort of unilateral activity. The conduct of nations, international relationsthey belong in the appropriate hands, not negotiated at gunpoint.”
The hatch opened and Tombstone Magruder stepped into the room. He stopped and surveyed both of them coldly, then stepped forward and took the high-backed chair at the end of the table. “This will constitute my only briefing on this matterfor both of you. There is a helicopter leaving in fifteen minutes. I expect you both to be on it. You will be ferried back to Greece for further transportation to your respective destinations. This is non-negotiable.”
He quelled the question starting on Pamela’s lips with a harsh glare. “You’ve both caused enough damage as it is.”
With that, he turned toward Tiltfelt. “In the very near future, it will become apparent that your decision to lobby in favor of sending this carrier into the Black Sea will have been the most foolish of all possible mistakes. You have two choices at this point. First, you can take your chances as your case is tried in the media, and most probably wind up the scapegoat as the Department of State recognizes the enormity of its mistake. Second, you may decide to take an offensive posture and admit that you were in error. Believe me, the subsequent facts are going to make that quite clear. If you take the second option, you have a chance of retaining your position within the State Department. And as an inducement to do so, I offer you this. I will say that I relied upon your advice in deciding to conduct the strike against Ukraine.”
Bradley Tiltfelt’s mouth fell open. He sputtered for a moment, then said, “That’s absolutely insane. I had no hand in that attacknone at all. What you’re asking is-“
“Your only possible hope,” Tombstone finished coldly. “I’ll know what your choice is by the time you leave this ship. Understood?”
Tiltfelt shook his head angrily.
Tombstone turned to Drake. “Before you disembark, you will file one last story. It will be along the lines of the two choices I have outlined for Mr. Tiltfelt. I will personally review your copyprint only, at this pointprior to your departure. If you choose not to draft a story for my approval at this time, I will have you held on board, incommunicado, until federal agents arrive to charge you with treason.”
“Treason? Just what the hell-?”
“Listen, don’t talk,” Tombstone ordered. “By throwing yourself off that fishing boat, you interfered with Naval operations during a time of conflict. You personally managed to endanger the lives of several men, starting with the pilots who had to pull you out of the drink. In the end, I may be proved to be wrongbut you’ll still spend at least four days incommunicado on board this ship. If there is a story to report, you’ll miss it completely. Got that?”
Oh, she got it. Indeed she did. Pamela’s color rose, her face twisted into a mask of fury. She leaped to her feet, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You can’t do this!”
“I can, and I will. Come, Miss Drake, do you really doubt me?”
The color drained from Pamela’s face as quickly as it had risen. The air seemed to go out of her and, deflated, she sagged back down into her chair. She nodded without looking up at him.
Tombstone turned back to Tiltfelt. “Your decision?”
“Number two.”
Tiltfelt’s voice was low, beaten. The all-pervasive self-confidence that had infused the man since he’d come on board was gone.
He looked like what he wasa political hack, caught in the middle of a scenario he neither understood nor could solve.
Tombstone nodded. “Very well. You have fifteen minutes to pack your belongings. The Chief of Staff will escort you to the flight deck.”
“I’ll file the story,” Pamela said sullenly. She lifted her head finally and glared at him. “But you’ll pay for this Tombstone, I swear you will.”
12
Bird Dog pulled up in front of his apartment in his rental car. He parked at the sidewalk, leaped out, and ran to the door. Fumbling with his keys, he finally got the knob to turn. He slammed open the door.
“Callie,” he yelled. “Callie, where are you?”
“Bird Dog?” Her voice rose, high and excited. “You’re back!”
Callie Lazure came hurtling out of the back room, barely pausing before she threw herself at him. He pulled her close to him, felt the warm familiar curves of her body.
“Oh, Callie, I’ve missed you so much.”
She buried her face in his neck, murmuring nonsensical phrases and almost crying. Bird Dog wisely remained silent and held her.
“Don’t ever do this to me again, Bird Dog,” Callie said finally, pulling away from him.
“Do what?”
“Go off and leave me like that. Promise me.”
Her eyes were pleading.
At that moment, no one would have guessed that Callie was a career Navy officer herself.
“There’ll be cruises, dear,” Bird Dog said gently. “For you, and for me. You know that.”
“I can’t do this again.”
She returned to the safe embrace of his arms, holding him hard against her.
“Callie Lazurewill you marry me?”
Bird Dog startled himself, the words out of his throat before he could even think them through. Get married?
What in the world was he thinking?
He was headed back to sea after this, and there were so many things he had yet to do. Yet at that point in time, all that mattered to him was that Callie agree to spend the rest of her life with him.
She pulled back slightly and looked up at him, her face streaked with tears. “Marry?” Her voice was tentative and uncertain.
“Marry,” Bird Dog said firmly. “That is, if you want to.”
An awful feeling that he’d just stepped on his dick invaded him.
“Okay.”
Callie snuggled back up to him.
Bird Dog clasped her to him, an odd mixture of terror and delight sweeping over him.
“You did well, nephew,” Thomas Magruder said. He gazed levelly at his nephew, his eyes unreadable.
“Thank you, Admiral,” Tombstone said. He swayed slightly on his feet.
The last sixteen hours had been a frantic rush of airlifts, commercial airliners, and one final last harrowing taxicab ride to the Pentagon. He’d caught a few catnaps, but not nearly enough sleep to keep him going. At the moment, Tombstone felt light-headed.
“That captain on La Salle,” his uncle said, shaking his head in disbelief, “Your idea?”
He shot Tombstone a look under bushy eyebrows.
Tombstone shook his head. “Not mine. That was sheer surface-warrior ingenuity all by itself. Surprised me as much as it did you.”