COB had expected many possible reactions. He’d even anticipated Brodie’s legendary anger bubbling over and punching him in the jaw. He would have welcomed that reaction, knowing that if anyone on the Seawolf needed to blow off steam, it was the captain. But Brodie’s response was the exact opposite of what COB had hoped for.
He slipped off the sail and glanced at COB. “Best get back to work, Master Chief,” Brodie advised coolly, the mask of command he wore around everyone else descending across his face. “I’ve got a boat to run.”
COB watched disbelievingly as Brodie, without so much as another word on the subject, climbed down into the sail, disappearing. COB had been worried about Brodie before, now he was nearly frantic to get down below and find Graves, hoping that between the two of them they might figure out what was eating away at their friend.
COB found Graves in the wardroom. The two of them went forward into the empty torpedo room where they could talk in private. Graves listened intently as COB explained what had happened, finishing with, “I’ve seen the Blade fiery mad, I’ve seen him drunk as a skunk, I’ve seen him in the control room under attack, and I’ve seen him quietly comforting a sobbing midshipman who just learned his mother’s dead. But, I’ve never seen him like this, Jason,” COB explained in worry. “Something’s wrong, and he won’t talk to me.”
Graves nodded his head thoughtfully, and COB had the distinct impression Graves had been worrying about Brodie, too. “I’ll talk to him.”
“I was thinking we might take him out and pour some booze into him. Maybe get him laid or something,” COB offered, knowing Brodie wasn’t a whore chaser, but COB was feeling a bit desperate at the moment.
“No,” Graves replied thoughtfully. “I think I might have an idea what this is about.”
“Do you mind cluing me in?” COB asked in frustration.
The three men had been together a long time, and secrets weren’t something they generally kept between one another. Graves looked around the torpedo room, making certain they were alone. Then, in a hushed voice, explained his concerns to COB.
Chapter Five
Kristen pulled her heels back on once she reached the deck. She preferred loafers instead of the regulation pumps, but the uniform for the formal dinner called for mess dress. So, considering she was now in a floor-length skirt, pumps were the order of the evening. Once the uncomfortable heels were in place, she crossed over to the pier where the rest of the Seawolf’s officers were gathered alongside a fourteen-passenger van. She greeted the others who were looking a bit uncomfortable in uniforms that, for most of her fellow officers, hadn’t seen a tailor shop in about twenty pounds.
Graves, whose uniform fit perfectly, was checking a couple of his officers, adjusting a few ties and making certain everyone looked as presentable as possible.
“Good evening, sir,” Kristen greeted him with a salute.
He was working on Ski’s bowtie and apparently having no luck. “Are you any good with ties, Lieutenant?” he asked.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Kristen answered with a smile and took over. “Good evening, sir,” she said politely to Ski as he lifted his chin so she could work on the drama dangling from his collar.
“Good evening,” Ski replied as he fidgeted in a uniform that looked a size too small.
The tiny harbor was absolutely packed with naval vessels that had sped from their various patrol areas across the globe to reach the Sea of Japan. Many of these vessels were undergoing necessary repairs before, potentially, heading into battle off the coast of Korea.
“Why the hell do we have to wear these damn monkey suits,” Ski grumbled as Kristen finished.
“Admiral’s orders,” Graves reminded him. “Admiral Griffith has a thing for formal occasions, and with so many ships in port, he thought it a perfect time for a gala.” Officers from every ship had been invited to a formal dinner at the officers’ club overlooking the anchorage.
Kristen looked around the harbor, seeing the dozens of brightly illuminated ships, knowing that most of them had come from halfway around the world to reach the region in the event of war. But, because of what the Seawolf had learned from Dr. Dar-Hyun, she knew the North Koreans had no intention of invading the South and had simply been bluffing. Therefore all of these ships had made the journey for — what appeared to be — nothing. The reason behind why North Korea had decided to bluff on such a grand scale was still a mystery to her.
“Is the skipper coming?” Ski asked Graves. “I haven’t seen him in days.”
The captain had been spending an inordinate amount of time ashore at the base headquarters. Kristen wasn’t privy to just what these meetings entailed, but speculation in the wardroom was that it had to do with the real reason the North Koreans had risked war.
“He should be here,” Graves replied. “Unless he got called away again.”
Several officers looked around for their missing captain before Terry motioned toward the end of the pier. “There he is.”
Kristen was now helping Ryan Walcott with his tie and turned her head reflexively to see her captain. Brodie, in his own mess dress uniform, was walking up the pier out of the darkness. A smoldering cigar was tucked between two fingers of his bandaged left hand, and his right hand was tucked away jauntily in his trouser pocket. She hadn’t expected him to wear the regulation cover like everyone else, and he wasn’t. Kristen turned her attention back to Ryan’s tie. Despite her best effort, Brodie was still a distraction to her, but she was determined to suppress whatever it was she was feeling regarding him.
“Everyone here?” Brodie asked after receiving a flock of salutes from his officers and responding with a polite nod of his head.
Kristen turned after finishing Ryan’s tie so she could face her captain, but at the same time she avoided eye contact with him. He took a few puffs on the cigar and reminded his officers there would be a “butt load” of admirals and other senior officers who would not think too kindly of a submarine load of drunken officers throwing up all over the head table, so they needed to watch their manners and “be on their best behavior.”
The officers’ club was brilliantly illuminated with electric and torch lighting. A massive main hall was positioned along the rear of the club and, beyond a series of large glass doors, was an equally expansive patio. The club was built on a hill overlooking the anchorage, with a gentle slope leading down to a road at the base of the hill. So with so many vessels in port, the view was spectacular for anyone who loved the Navy.
The evening began with a cocktail hour, which consisted of nothing but water over ice for Kristen despite her fellow officers encouraging her to tempt fate with a cocktail. But she managed to avoid having alcohol without too much trouble. Brodie had been drawn away from his officers almost immediately by a group of half a dozen ships’ captains, and she soon lost sight of him, for which she was thankful. Although she suspected he might be avoiding her, she knew she was doing her best to stay away from him. Simply put, she didn’t trust herself to think objectively around him anymore.
“You look nice tonight,” Terry offered her as they waited together for the doors to the banquet hall to open.
“So do you,” she offered with a friendly smile. “You clean up pretty good for a rogue.” She looked around the crowd wondering if he’d already found a date for the evening out of the handful of female officers present. “I would have thought you’d be out hunting already.”