“Yeah. More damned socializing and politicking. Useless crap. These vodka-swilling bozos aren’t going to be any help to us at all.”
Fitzgerald studied the admiral, controlling his own growing worry. There was something about Vaughn. He groped for the right word. Irrational? No … that wasn’t right. There was nothing wrong with the man that Jefferson’s captain could put his finger on. But he did seem preoccupied, his attention unfocused, and his derisive and egotistical attitude during that morning’s briefing had not helped matters.
Perhaps it was just Vaughn’s fear. Fitzgerald could smell it, could see it in the nervous way his eyes flicked back and forth as he studied the horizon, could hear it in his terse words and harsh judgment of the Russians.
There was no irrationality in fear. All of them were afraid, every man in the squadron, and there was no shame in that, not when tomorrow could find them in a war unlike any that had been fought in history.
But Vaughn’s manner worried Fitzgerald. It was almost as
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though the man was trying to link up the excuses before his failure, find a way to divert the blame. “It wasn’t my fault because the Russians were no good.” “It wasn’t my fault because I wasn’t given the intel I needed.”
Fitzgerald shook himself mentally and tore his gaze from Vaughn’s face. He would get nowhere thinking thoughts like that.
He signaled to an enlisted watchstander nearby. “Have some coffee, sir?”
“Eh? Oh, thanks. Thanks. Everything else quiet?”
“Absolutely.” He kept his tone light, confident, and unwor-ried. “I’d say our Indian friends have decided to bug out. Maybe the skirmish yesterday made them think twice about al! this. Or maybe.it was the Russians joining us. Attacking us now would be sort of like taking on the whole world, wouldn’ t it?”
“No, Captain. No, it’s not like that at all.” Vaughn spoke softly, his eyes still on the horizon as though he were trying to reach out and touch the mind of Admiral Dmitriev, out there on the bridge of the Kreml. He accepted a mug of coffee the sailor handed him without looking away. “Those bastards will be back, and from where we’re sitting, it’s going to look like World War HI.”
“How do you know that, sir?”
“Logistics.” He blinked, then turned away from the window. He seemed to really see Fitzgerald for the first time.’ “The laws of logistics, Captain. The guy with die longest supply line has his head in a noose.”
“Oh, I think we’re set all right. Peoria andAmarillo are with us now. They have enough bullets, beans, and black oil to keep us going for quite a while.” But he knew the admiral’s thoughts were traveling the same ruts his own mind had been circling a few minutes earlier. Lose the UNREP ships and the squadron was crippled, their mission . . .
The realization hit Fitzgerald like a blow. It was the mission Vaughn was worried about . . . and his image back in Washington. That fit with the little he’d heard about the man prior to his assignment to CBG-14. He was worried about what would happen to his career if the carrier group failed to carry out its mission.
“A drop in the bucket,” Vaughn said, responding to Fitzgerald’s comment about the UNREP ships’ provisions. He
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raised the mug and sipped noisily. “You know as well as I do how quickly we’ll run through that stuff once the shooting starts, hey? Hell, we’re twelve thousand miles from home. Twelve thousand miles! The Russians are five thousand from their nearest port, and they don’t have our experience in long-range blue-water ops. The Indians’ supply bases are right over the horizon. We’re dangling on a limb out here, Fitzgerald. And the Indians are going to whack it off.”
“Hell, I thought that dangling was what we’re here for, Admiral.” He laughed, trying to make it sound like a joke. “We’re what the President calls for when he needs to reach out and touch someone.”
Vaughn’s mouth quirked in what might have been a smile. “Well, we’d better hope the President decides in favor of talking instead of touching. You know damn well we can’t match the Indians plane for plane. Count their planes ashore and they outnumber us ten to one at least.”