WASHINGTON, D.C.
OVAL OFFICE, THE WHITE HOUSE
The President held up the pitcher of water, offering to pour Arnie van Damm a glass.
Arnie sat on the couch, his face souring. “Never touch the stuff.”
“Suit yourself.” Ryan filled a glass for himself and headed back over to the chair next to him.
“Admiral Talbot on line one for you, sir,” came over the intercom.
“Thank you, Betty,” President Ryan said. He stood and crossed over to his desk.
Arnie gestured as he rose from the couch that he’d leave but Ryan waved him back down. He punched the secure line and picked up.
“John, I hope this is good news.”
“The best possible news. We finally found the Ivan.”
Ryan grinned ear to ear. “That’s fantastic.” He threw a thumbs-up at Arnie.
“I won’t bother you with the technical details,” Talbot said, “but suffice it to say he’s turned tail and run, and we’re still on him. We’ll track the Glazov all the way back to Vladivostok. If he tries to do anything stupid, we’ll shove a couple of Mark 48s up his poop chute for the effort.”
“Make sure that everyone involved knows how much I appreciate this and please congratulate them for me on a job well done.”
“I’ll convey the message personally. Do I have permission to return the Roosevelt strike group to its original deployment?”
“As you see fit.”
“I’ll contact Admiral Pike immediately.”
Ryan ended the call.
“That sounds like a win to me,” Arnie said. “Score one for the Navy.”
“Yeah, feels pretty good, I have to admit,” Ryan said. “It was a thousand-to-one shot.” His voice trailed off, his mind working a new problem.
“Jeez, don’t break a leg jumping up and down for joy.”
Ryan glanced up. “Say again? I wasn’t listening.”
“You don’t seem too happy.”
“I’m giddy as a schoolgirl.”
“Yeah, I can tell. What’s the problem?”
“No problem. Not exactly.”
“Let me guess. You’re worried that sub wasn’t the pirate after all.”
“I’ve got no reason to think that.”
Arnie stood. “Then it’s time to celebrate. You probably just want more water,” he said, with a wink.
“Grab yourself a glass,” Ryan said, as he pulled open a desk drawer.
“Seriously, you’re still worried?” Arnie said, crossing over to the service tray.
“We’ve tied a knot in the Glazov’s tail. We’ll still have to deal with Yermilov on this but that’s a problem for another day. For now, it’s a win.”
Ryan uncorked the bottle of Jameson and poured a couple of fingers for each of them.
“As bad as this was, at least this thing was contained to the South Pacific. Imagine if it had gone global.”
“Amen to that.” Arnie lifted his glass. “I propose a toast.”
Ryan lifted his.
“Arrr,” Arnie growled.
“Arrr.”
They drank.
It was a good day.