Sea of Fire o-10
Page 35
"Lee Tong."
The young man thought he heard someone say his name. The voice was muffled, but it did not sound like a voice from one of his dreams. He forced his eyes open, just barely. Someone was looking down at him from the foot of the bed. A woman. She had a darker face than the others, but was also wearing a mask and gown. Through his nearly shut eyes she looked gauzy, like a ghost.
"Can you hear me?" she asked.
She was speaking Malay. It was beautiful. He nodded once. The nausea reminded him to stay as still as possible. He obeyed.
"Good," the woman said. "I am Female Naval Officer Monica Loh of the Singaporean Navy. You are suffering from mild radiation poisoning. It came from the vessel you attacked. But I've just spoken with your physician. You will recover. Do you understand?"
Tong nodded once, very, very slowly. The nausea was a little kinder this time. He opened his eyes a little wider. Some of the haze lifted from the woman. She was real.
"Mr. Tong, you were the only member of the sampan crew to survive the explosion," the woman went on. "We will need you to testify about the nature of the firefight. Whatever you remember, we want to know." The woman took several steps around the edge of the bed. "But that is not why I came to see you. I know what you were doing out there. We cannot prove you did anything wrong. However, I would like to keep you from doing anything illegal in the future. When you are released from the hospital, I would like to see you about a civilian job with the navy. There are a number of defense technical positions and administrative support positions for which you can be trained. I hope you will consider them."
Lee Tong was awake. He knew that because he felt queasy. But he thought he heard the woman say she wanted him to work for the navy. He had neither the education nor the kind of background recruiters sought. No one in his family had served in the military. It did not make sense.
"Why…?" he asked weakly.
"Why do I want you?" Loh asked. "It took a great deal of skill to navigate a sampan that far out to sea. We can always use talented men and women, and I don't just mean the navy." The woman smiled under her mask. "I heard someone use the phrase 'the good guys' to describe us today. I like that. I want you to be one of them, Mr. Tong."
He looked at her and smiled back weakly. He nodded once. The nausea was worth it.
The woman nodded back and left.
The navy, Tong thought. Even in a civilian capacity, naval service would give him the kind of respect his father had always wanted for him. His only regret was that his shipmates were not here to collect their share of respectability. They were good men and loyal friends. He would miss them.
The young man's eyes blurred again, this time from tears.
As he slipped back into sleep, Lee Tong's last thought was that he no longer had to dream of happier times. He could imagine them.
For they were no longer behind him, but ahead.
Chapter Eighty-One
Washington, D.C. Saturday, 6:29 P.M.
Paul Hood was about to leave his office when the phone beeped. The caller ID identified it as Bob Herbert. He picked up.
"Lowell went on to participate in what's left of his conference in Sydney, then decided to hang with the hostess and her husband," Herbert said. "But I'm coming home. I'm flying commercial later in the afternoon. First class."
"I hope you've got the frequent flier miles for it," Hood laughed.
"Nope. Op-Center's treat. I don't think chasing Darling's plane earned me enough to upgrade," Herbert said.
"I'll see if we have any money left in our 'off to save the world' account," Hood joked.
"If not, you can dig it out of the goodwill fund. We made some good friends here, Paul. Strong allies. And I have a rotten feeling we're going to need them all sooner rather than later."
"I have that feeling, too," Hood said. "There's a new world out there with a lot of enemies we haven't begun to identify."
"Well, we've made a good start identifying a few of them," Herbert said. "I understand Marcus Darling has caved. He's reportedly opened his Palm Pilot rogues gallery for the Singapore navy."
"In exchange for what?"
"Being handed to Australian authorities instead of Singaporean grill masters," Herbert said.
"Lowell will probably not approve, but nicely done," Hood said.
"Lowell did not openly disapprove, which is pretty good for him. This thing scared him, too. Speaking of enemies," Herbert went on, "did you hear anything else from Mr. Perry?"
"Not so much as a snarl," Hood said.
"Hardly a surprise," Herbert said.
That was true. Lowell had nailed it before when he said that a failure was a stranger in his own house. The corollary to that is, 'No one leaves the house faster than a politician.' Hood toyed with the idea of calling Perry at home and busting his chops. He decided that would not be necessary. Perry was probably anticipating just such a call. That was revenge enough.
"Well, I'm going to be sitting around Jelbart's office for a couple of hours, helping him write reports. A lot happened, and we weren't taking notes. What are you up to on what is still early Saturday night?"
"I have a date with a lady," Hood told him.
"Oh? Is this the advertising lady you saw the other night?"
"I started to call her, but there was someone else I wanted to see tonight," Hood said.
"And she is?"
Hood smiled. "My daughter."
Herbert did not say anything. He did not have to. The intelligence officer had just gone through this event with Darling and Jessica-Ann. He would know where Hood was coming from.
"Are you going to see Sharon, too?" Herbert asked.
"Only in passing," Hood said. "She agreed to switch weekends with me so I could see Harleigh tonight."
"Nice. Make sure you give her a hug from Uncle Bob," Herbert said.
"I will," Hood assured him. "I'll tell her you're bringing what? A stuffed koala?"
"It's a deal," Herbert said. "And a boomerang for Alexander. I won't even bill Op-Center for it."
Hood smiled. "Thanks, Bob." He looked at the computer clock. He did not want to be late. He wished Herbert a safe flight and left his office. He rode the elevator up one flight.
It is indeed a deadlier and less predictable world than ever, Hood thought, as he stepped into the twilight. But in it was one constant.
Loyalty.
With it, you possessed what was best in men. Loyalty to loved ones, to friends. Loyalty to ideals, to country. With it, you had long, powerful arms that could reach for the heavens.
Or a daughter.
Which worked out fine, Hood reflected, as he climbed into his car. For in the end, who were the heavens for?
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