It was the Marine’s turn to frown thoughtfully. “I dunno. Could be we’re not supposed to know. That sometimes happens when you’re workin’ Special Ops. Ever’ once in a while, somebody will just step around a corner and disappear. No
warning. No explanation. He’s just gone and, if you ask about him, he’s TDY or on extended leave or some other damn kind of a thing. Then, a year or
two down the line, the guy will step back around that corner and pick up again
as if nothing ever happened. And if you ask about where he was for all that
time, he just sort of shrugs.”
“Do they always come back like that?” Christine asked in a small voice.
He shook his head. “Naw. Sometimes, you hear they been killed in a ‘training accident’ somewhere – or sometimes they just stay gone and you never hear anything at all.”
“Before she left the Task Force, Amanda told me to believe in her,” Christine murmured more to herself. “And to believe in the Admiral.”
“I’d listen.” Quillain knocked back the last of the Fosters and stood up. “I’ll see you back on the ship, ma’am.”
“Fa’sure, Stone. Oh, and you don’t have to see the TACBOSS. Intelligence section will get squared away, I
promise.”
Quillain grinned in the low light. “Hell, I don’t have time to talk to that fella anyway.”
Ten hours later, Christine Rendino popped her eyes open and the dawn light stabbing through the partially open drapes exploded in the back of her brain. She squinted at her surroundings, the touristy pastel room with the handful of discarded clothing scattered around it, and then at the radio clock on the end table. Then she huddled back under the thin sheet and swore at herself for being several different species of idiot.
She had checked into the Darwin the previous night after her drinking bout in the Lounge. She’d taken a twenty-four hour shore leave and there had been no sense in returning to the Carlson. She had a long and painful hangover to survive first. She also had some long and painful re-evaluation to do. Mostly concerning herself.
“No matter what happens. No matter what you hear. Believe in us and that everything is going to work out.” Those had almost been Amanda’s last words to her. Had they been a message that she, Christine, had missed?
“I’m not giving up on either the Skipper or the Admiral yet.” Stone Quillain’s flat statement shamed her, for she had done just that.
Where did that damn Marine get off, trusting in Amanda when she, Christine Rendino, didn’t? The best friend and nearest thing to a sister she had ever been granted and, in her anger, idolization and disillusionment, Christine had had been quite willing to abandon that bond and go into a sulk like spoiled brat.
And the same with the Admiral MacIntyre. Eddie Mac inevitably backed his people to the hilt and beyond, even at the sacrifice of his own wellbeing. Hadn’t he insisted in personally leading the assault to drag Amanda out of Harconan’s base at Crab’s Claw, even after he’d surmised Amanda’s affair with Harconan? And wasn’t the thought of the Admiral acting like a sulky pimpled juvenile maneuvered out of a Saturday night date just a little bit ridiculous?
Stone was right. Something else had to be going on.
Beyond that, just what in the hell did Amanda Lee Garrett or Elliot Edward MacIntyre have to do with Lieutenant Commander Christine Rendino and her duties and responsibilities? Maybe she had signed on for her first tour to buy her college degree and maybe Amanda had inspired her into reupping for her second. But what was her reason for her sticking around for a third?
How about because she had become good at a job she was proud to be doing?
Ignoring the throb in her temples, Christine reached down beside the bed and found her shoulder bag. Taking out her cell phone, she reactivated it.
As the phone’s little screen illuminated, Christine winced to find half a dozen voicemails waiting for her on the Sea Fighter exchange. Marvelous.
God, but Amanda would have been furious with her over this pathetic performance.
Maybe she should start being a little furious with herself too. Damn it, she was a fricken’ naval officer and the best Intel in the fleet. It was time to get back on the job. It was also time to find out just what Amanda was really up to. If someone thought mere JSOC security could keep her locked out they were sadly mistaken.
She threw off the sheet and in a few moments she was under a cold needle shower, blasting the lingering fuzz from her mind.
She was just toweling herself dry when her cellular chirped “Anchors Aweigh”, the alarm she’d set for official Sea Fighter traffic.
Still drying her hair, she stepped out to where she’d left the phone and keyed the call accept. “Commander Rendino here,” she said crisply.
“My standing orders were that all officers were to keep their phones on at all
times when shore side, Chris.” Sounding mildly annoyed, a familiar purring alto issued from the speaker. “I’ve been trying to reach you since last night.”
Her damp towel slithered to the floor. Christine Rendino didn’t think she could be going into the DT’s. “Boss Ma’am? Captain … Amanda?”
“Yes, Chris,” the voice chuckled. “It’s me. Now settle down and tell me where you are.” The call had the slightly hollow sound to it that hinted at a long-range satphone link.
“I’ve got a room at the Darwin Hotel,” the Intel replied.
“Are you alone and is your phone on secure encryption?”
The Intel hastily checked the settings. “Yes to both.”
“Good. Now listen to me. You’ll have to move fast. You’re being detached from the Sea Fighters and are being placed back under my
command.”
“Your command?” Christine wondered.
“Don’t ask questions now. We’ll have plenty of time to go through it all later. A tactical field detachment
from NAVSPECFORCE Intelligence will be arriving in Darwin within the next
twenty-four hours. You will be exchanging places with the detachment’s commander. He’ll be taking your slot with the Sea Fighters, you’ll be taking the detachment up to our embassy in Jakarta. Further orders will be
awaiting you there. ”
“Understood.”
“Good. I think I’ve got some interesting work for us, Chris. As our old friend Arkady would say, mucho divertimento. Oh, and we’ll be working with him again as well. Along with some of our other people from
the old Duke.”
“Amanda, I am just so glad to hear from you.”
“I missed you too, Chris,” the voice chuckled. “I’m sorry about any false impressions that might have been generated. There has
been a reason for it all. You’ll understand presently.”
Christine sighed, no longer hungover but suddenly very content, as her universe
snapped back into its proper configuration. “Not a problem, Boss Ma’am.”
The other sleeping occupants of the sixth floor of the Darwin Hotel were jarred
awake by a gleeful scream of “YES!”
Jubilantly, Christine scrambled back into her clothes. Humming under her breath, she sat down in front of the dressing table to do a quick hair and face do, planning a lavish breakfast. With the Admiral and Amanda back in their proper places, the world was beautiful again.
The Admiral and Amanda.
