Dex
USS Cape Cod
Whitehurst was looking at him like he was sixteen and had just asked for the keys to family sedan. The Admiral walked him off to the glass, where both stared straight ahead at the angry ocean. Dex listened as his old C.O. stood straight and unmoving, assuming a commanding posture. “Chief, what you’re asking me is way out of bounds, you know that.”
Dex spoke softly. “Isn’t this whole operation ‘out of bounds’?”
The Admiral ran a hand through his short, graying hair, exhaled slowly. “I could lose my rank for something like that. They’re called civilians for a reason.”
Dex cast about for the right response when the bridge communications officer interjected. “Excuse me, sir, I’ve got a message from the enemy.”
“They have this channel?” said Danvers with obvious surprise.
“They’re not amateurs,” said Harry Olmstead. “Trust me on that one.”
“Patch them in,” said Whitehurst.
As intrigued as Dex might be regarding the latest wrinkle, he wasn’t happy to have his argument stalled. But he listened with everyone else on the command deck as the bad guys made their ultimate threat, realized that everything had changed.
Whitehurst let the message settle in, then he looked at Olmstead. “You think that device is still hot?”
The CTG Director didn’t hesitate. “Not having seen it, I have no idea. But you remember what Dr. Schaller said—given the German reputation for making things right, it’s a good bet it’s live.”
Whitehurst nodded. “The real question is whether they’re serious or not.”
“It also answers a big concern,” said Dex. He didn’t want to infuse himself into the discussion, but he couldn’t help himself. Before anyone could stop him, he pushed on. “They wouldn’t even make that threat if they knew they had back-up on the way.”
“He’s right,” said Olmstead. “We can pretty much rule out any enemy subs coming to the rescue.”
“It also makes sense strategically in terms of the base,” said Whitehurst. “If the bad guys can’t control it, then nobody will.”
Olmstead was nonplussed. “This is a no-brainer. We tell them we’re backing off, and we go in anyway. We have the SEALS. They don’t.”
“Okay,” said Whitehurst. “What happens if they follow up—as soon as they see us coming?”
Harry Olmstead shrugged. “We gambled and lost. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Dex faced the Admiral. “But you’ve got civilians involved. Weren’t we just talking about that subject?”
“I think you can pretty much write them off as bargaining chips, Mr. McCauley.” Olmstead smirked as if he found something amusingly simplistic in Dex’s question. “If the enemy is willing to blow itself up, they have no problem taking the hostages along with them.”
Whitehurst appeared distracted with his own thoughts. He looked at Dex with growing irritation. “We’ve got some decisions to make. Get to the point, Chief.”
Dex hesitated but just for an instant. “Given the latest twist, I’m thinking you’ve got a volunteer situation.”
Olmstead chuckled. “Not with SEALS we don’t. This is the kind of stuff they live for.”
“I was thinking of the MIT guy,” said Dex. “And…me. If he doesn’t want to go, I’ll take his place.”
Olmstead was ready to speak, but Whitehurst held up his hand. “We’ll need to talk to Dr. Schaller about the latest developments. Is he already aboard the Dragonfish?”
“Yessir,” said Danvers, who’d been listening in with professional deference. “They’re waiting for the go.”
“Don’t let them off the pad till I talk to him,” said Whitehurst. “Patch me through.”
Olmstead held up an index finger, touched his nose thoughtfully. “Does that mean we’re in agreement, Parker?”
Whitehurst paused as he adjusted the headset mic to the front of his face. “You bet your ass it does.”