CARRIER 10: ARSENAL By: Keith Douglass

a world unto itself. Are you ready for that world. Miss Drake?” His

voice was low and caressing.

“Just get me in there, Aguillar,” she said softly. “Get me in there,

and I’ll show you how ready I am.”

“I will. But first, there is something you must do for me.”

Aguillar’s smile broadened into a grin.

1300 Local (+5 GMT) Commander, Southern Command, Miami “You’ll have to

talk to the media. Admiral. There’s simply no way to avoid it.” The

public affairs officer’s voice was urgent.

Rear Admiral Matthew “Tombstone” Magruder ran a hand through his unruly

dark hair. Even clipped short, it managed to look mussed. His dark

eyes were somber and unreadable. “Your job.”

“Admiral, I can handle all of the smaller affairs. And, after your

initial statement, I’ll handle the routine briefings as well. But this

is major newsit’s getting prime-time coverage on every channel and

station in the United States, as well as considerable overseas

interest. I can try. Admiral,” he added hastily, seeing the look of

displeasure on Tombstone’s face, “but they’re not going to be satisfied

with my statement. Especially not with Admiral Loggins spearheading

the debate over the Arsenal ships right now. You’ve heard what he’s

saying already.”

Tombstone leaned back in the chair and sighed. Why, oh why, had he

ever accepted this assignment? Ever since his last at-sea tour, life

had gone downhill. Aside from his marriage to Tomboy, there hadn’t

been a damned thing he’d liked about this tour. His thoughts drifted

back to Jefferson, one of the United States Navy’s most potent

supercarriers.

Commanding her battle group had been his first Rag tour, and the most

professionally challenging assignment he’d had since he was in command

of a squadron. And he’d done well at it, he thought no, he was

certain.

Somehow, he’d managed to keep the explosive tensions in the Spratly

Islands from escalating into a full-scale war the United States was not

prepared to face. With China trying to stake a claim to every inch of

the oil-rich seafloor in the South China Sea, only the USS Jefferson

and her cadre of escort ships had stood at the brink of war to prevent

a new China hegemony. And their last mission had been the most

challenging one of all.

“I’ve prepared some remarks for you. Admiral.” The PAO’s voice took

on a softer, almost wheedling, note. “At thirteen hundred, you read

them. Take a few softball questions, then I’ll hustle you out of

there. Really, sir, it won’t take long at all.”

Tombstone stood up abruptly, unfolding his long frame from the

comfortable chair. “All right.” He sighed. “I guess this is what

they pay me for. Five minutes of questions and that’s it, though.”

Tombstone walked to the door. If this was so routine, why did he feel

like he was walking to his own execution?

Sunday, 23 June 1000 Local (+5 GMT) United Nations Ambassador Sarah

Wexler studied the faces across the table from her. The Cuban delegate

to the United Nations had an explosive temper on the best of days, and

this was hardly that. For a moment, she thought almost longingly about

the cold, taciturn Asiatic delegates she’d so recently faced down in

the Spratly Islands. There’d been treachery there, certainly, but at

least it had been masked behind the careful facade of diplomacy.

Not so this time. She sighed, inwardly steeling herself for the

confrontation.

The Cuban question was never an easy one, and even less so in the last

two years. With the collapse of the Soviet Union, she had hoped that

the United States could take measures to bring its southern neighbor

back into the community of democratic nations, but the decades of

distrust had been impossible to overcome. Since then, other nations

had courted the tiny island for most-favored-nation status. The latest

intelligence reports indicated that military advisors from Libya

appeared to have taken up permanent residence in Cuba, no doubt

intending to take advantage of the political turmoil orchestrated by a

cadre of old Che Guevara supporters.

Behind her, a small bevy of aides and assistants murmured amongst

themselves. Finally, the Cuban delegate paused in his tirade. The

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