Pearl Harbor Fleet Base, Oahu, Hawaii
1846 Hours; Zone Time, October, 24, 2008
MacIntyre tucked his shaving kit into an exterior pocket of the single B-4 bag he carried into the field. Zipping the pocket shut, he swung the battered bag down from the coverlet of his bed, setting it on the floor beside his brief and computer cases.
Taking the phone from the lamp table beside the bed, he dialed through to
NAVSPECFORCE headquarters. “Duty Officer, please. This is Admiral MacIntyre. What’s the status on my command aircraft? Very good. Send a staff car to my quarters
and notify Hickam security that my daughter will be accompanying me to the
flightline. Thank you, Commander.”
He hung up the phone and took a last look around the small beige bedroom with its pale gray curtains and matching spread, checking for anything forgotten.
He liked this room. His daughter had decorated their quarters with both taste and economy, making them a calming place to live. It was a pity he’d been able to spend so little time in them. He smiled and gave a nod to the photograph of his late wife on the lamp table. Then, catching up his uniform cap, the old sea-worn one with the sun-scarred visor, he went down the hall to the living room.
His daughter Judy sat curled on the couch in slacks and a sleeveless top, her feet tucked under her. When she was intent on something she looked so very much like her mother – and, at the moment, that intentness was focused on the television.
On the screen, a column of gray ships stood outlined against a gray horizon. Caught by a low-light television camera, their running lights scintillated while a news anchor spoke off-screen.
“The Regional Intervention Force, composed of elements of the American, Australian and New Zealand navies, sailed this evening from Darwin, heading north into the growing chaos that is Indonesia. This handful of ships and the elite troops they carry may be the last hope for the thousands of foreign nationals trapped in the archipelago by the discontinuation of civil air service. Likewise, they may be the last hope for the embattled government of President Ahsan Kediri.
“Diplomatic exchanges continue around the clock between Washington, Canberra and
Jakarta, seeking a way to stabilize the deteriorating situation, but CNN’s international affairs experts are not hopeful. The bloody religious outburst
in Bali appears to be the deathblow for the world’s fourth largest nation …”
Judy killed the image with a stab of the remote button. “You’re going back there, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he replied, sinking down on the couch beside his youngest child. “We’ve got something of a situation developing down there and I want to have a look
at the operations. Did you call Captain Grayson’s wife?”
“Yes, Dad,” the teenager replied patiently. “She’ll be checking with me every day and keeping an eye on the house and I’ll check with her before I go out anywhere. Are you going to be in the fighting
like last time?”
MacIntyre gave a brusque shake of his head. “Last time there were extraordinary circumstances. This is just routine.”
Judy smiled, dismissing the sophistry. “Dad, you’ve shown me the war room down at headquarters. If you wanted to ‘look at operations’ you could do it just fine from there.”
“There are certain things you have to see up close and personal, kitten. Now, the
bills are covered for this month and you’ve got a thousand dollars and the emergency Visa in my desk safe. Remember that
credit card is only for emergencies.”
His voice trailed off as his daughter nestled against him, resting her head on
his shoulder. “Dad, what’s really wrong? You never used to feel guilty.”
Damnation, Judy had inherited so much more than her mother’s beauty; the deep perception was there as well. “I suppose it’s because they keep getting younger as I get older,” he replied, slipping his arm around her. “And it keeps getting harder for me to order them out. I can’t simply sit in front of an Alpha display, drinking coffee and watching the
casualty counts climb. I know that’s how it’s supposed to be done these days – and there are excellent reasons for it – but I’m just not strong enough any more. I’m sorry, Judy, it’s not fair to you, but if there’s going to be a fight, and it looks like there is, I’ve got to be down there with my people.”
“Is it because I’m putting my application in for Colorado Springs?” she asked.
He sighed, “To be absolutely honest, yes and no and possibly and not really. Your brothers
were both a lot easier to cope with. They’re sane and want careers in the private sector.”
Judy sniffed. “Brian and Steve are both puss-wusses. Somebody has to uphold the family honor.”
MacIntyre laughed and hugged his daughter once more. “Seriously though, before you put in your application, there’s someone I’d like for you to talk with first. Even today, career women in the services have
a lot of challenges to face and this lady will be able to fill you in on the
realities a lot better than I or any orientation officer could.”
“Captain Garrett,” Judy said, lifting her head.
“Well, yes. Amanda Garrett.”
A sly smile crept across his daughter’s face. “You’re going to be working with her again, aren’t you?”
“Ms. Garrett isn’t under my command or in the navy any longer, Judy.”
Her answer was a derisive feminine snort. “Yeah, right. Tell me another one, Dad.”
MacIntyre scowled. “What do you mean by that?”
“Because Captain Garrett is no more out of the Navy than you are – or, if she is, she’s working for the CIA or somebody as part of some big secret thing.”
MacIntyre straightened and stared at his daughter. “Judy, what makes you say that?”
His daughter looked insufferably smug. “I have my reasons, Daddy.”
Judy never called him daddy except when she wanted to be infuriating. “Name them, young lady! Now!”
“Oh Dad, you’ve told me so yourself. It sticks out all over you. For one, you’d never send me to someone for career advice if they’d actually been thrown out of the Navy in disgrace. For another, you’d never have let them throw Captain Garrett out in the first place. For a third,
I saw the expression your face when those political hacks on the television
were badmouthing her …”
MacIntyre cocked an eyebrow. “What about my expression?”
“It was just like that time in Naples when that drunk said that awful thing about
Mom and you decked him.”
“Oh Christ!”
“And finally,” Judy concluded, coming up to kneel on the couch, “you wouldn’t be having this hemorrhage if you weren’t worried about a security breach involving something horrendously top secret.”
MacIntyre gripped his daughter firmly by the shoulders. “Judy, Amanda Garret is out of the navy and has absolutely nothing to do with
NAVSPECFORCE any longer. Everything is just as it has been represented. Do you
understand?”
“Of course I do, Dad. Just like you know that nothing that is talked about in
this house ever gets mentioned anywhere else.”
MacIntyre unwound and ruffled his daughter’s hair. “Why couldn’t your mother have given me another son?”
