Thunder In The Deep (02) (50 page)

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Authors: Joe Buff

BOOK: Thunder In The Deep (02)
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"I've left my patrol report on your desk in your stateroom, Captain."

"I read it already. A copy of the copy you gave to Commodore Morse. The German mini, the model missile, the hard drives, Mr. Salih—they'll be offloaded when all these civilians are gone. . . . This is for you." Wilson handed Jeffrey an envelope.

"What is it, sir?"

"Orders. You're being detached. To the Prospective Commanding Officers Course. Your class started last week.

You have a lot of catching up to do, and you've got some blind spots you better fix real quick."

"Er, I don't know what to say, sir." PCO school was a necessary step to Jeffrey's own, official, independent command.

"Then don't say it. . . . This is for my weapons officer." Another envelope.

"Orders, Captain?"

Wilson nodded curtly. "Prospective Executive Officers School. He earned it." Jeffrey saw Wilson held a third envelope. "Where's Miss Reebeck?" Wilson said.

"Her stateroom, sir."

"We're sending her through the Basic Submarine Officers Course. . . . This isn't charity. Her government-inexile paid a fee."

"Lieutenant Milgrom?"

"She stays with the ship."

Jeffrey just stood there, numb. He was being discharged from the vessel that was his only real home, home for three months that felt like a lifetime. The ship's company was being broken up, as she was readied for dry dock and badly needed repairs. Wilson shooed Jeffrey off the quarterdeck, toward the brow. "I'll have your luggage sent. You're missing class." Then Wilson's manner softened, and he actually gave Jeffrey a smile. "You did well, Mr. Fuller. Enjoy your New Year's Eve." Jeffrey walked onto the pier. The families and friends were growing impatient. Challenger's A-gang, the deck hands, part of Bell's department, were already waving and shouting to their loved ones. Jeffrey spotted Lieutenant Bell's wife, beaming and great with child. Jeffrey knew not to bother to look to the crowd; there'd be no one waiting for him.

Jeffrey shook hands with the senior officers standing near the brow. His squadron commodore, and group rear admiral, pounded him on the back.

Finally, it all sank in. The schools, at the New London base. For six weeks, Jeffrey and Ilse would be together on dry land.

Jeffrey decided, then and there, to ask her out for tonight—they'd usher in the new year, 2012, together.

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