Sixteenth Watch

by Myke Cole

  McGrath had gotten lucky again. The Chinese hornet round had punched through a gap between two of his ribs, far enough out to clear the lung, the propellant from the motor cauterizing the wound as it went through. An inch to the right and there was no question he would be dead. As it was, there was little to do. Oliver stood uselessly beside his bed, trying to find a way to apologize. But in the end she knew how the conversation would go, with an embarrassed McGrath saying it was the job, and her feeling no better for having made him do it. He would be back on the line quickly, of that she had no doubt, and he would insist on reporting for duty as soon as he was able.

  But she stood next to that bed and endured the uncomfortable silence as Chief and McGrath respectfully waited for her to leave. I can’t protect you. I can’t protect anybody. The thought repeated itself in her mind over and over on the shuttle ride back to SPACETACLET.

  Ho greeted her as they shuffled into the squad room, moving gratefully through to their lockers to finally change out of their suits. “Hey, boss. Glad you’re back safe.”

  “Thanks, XO. It’s good to be back in one piece.”

  “Yeah, look, could I get a word?”

  Oliver froze, all the dread she’d managed to vent watching her people safe and unwinding came crowding back. Ho knew Oliver better than anyone, and he certainly understood her contubernium ethic. If he wanted a word alone, it was bad. “Sure,” she managed with a mouth suddenly gone dry.

  Ho’s look was sympathetic. “In your stateroom, boss.”

  She turned to head to her quarters off the squad room, stopped as Ho touched her elbow. “Your official stateroom, boss.”

  Oliver followed him down the passageway to the stateroom, desperately trying to conquer the sense of dread, to stop herself from pumping Ho for information, to find her military bearing for whatever was about to happen. Her XO paused at the entrance to her stateroom. “This will be OK, boss. Just remember that.”

  “You’re not coming in with me?”

  “Not this time, boss, but I’ll be right out here to meet you when it’s over.”

  “Jesus, Wen. I feel like I’m about to have a kidney harvested.”

  Ho smiled at that, which took some of the edge off the dread. “Good luck, boss.”

  Oliver wasn’t exactly surprised to find Admiral Allen sitting on her rack as she entered. He was wearing his utilities and a grave expression. He didn’t get up. “Jane, glad to see you’re OK,” he gestured to the chair behind the desk. “Have a seat.”

  Oliver sat in the chair as straight backed as she could manage. “Good to see you too, sir. To what do I owe the pleasure of a personal visit?”

  Allen ran a hand over the back of his head, ruffling the spikes of his thinning hair. “I don’t how to say this, Jane, so I’ll just say it. You’re relieved.”

  She blinked, her mind unable to process the word. “Relieved?”

  “Of command, Jane. Avitable will continue as acting CO of SPACETACLET until we can find a replacement. I’m sure you’ll agree he’s been doing fine so far.”

  “Relieved,” Oliver repeated. A weird sensation of burning cold was crawling up the back of her neck to tingle beneath her scalp.

  “I’m not going to make a big deal out of it, or a formal announcement,” Allen went on. “Neither you, nor the guard needs that embarrassment. You’re already focused on training SAR-1, and that’s what you’ll continue to do through to Boarding Action, but you won’t be assuming command of SPACETACLET when it’s done. You’ll head back to Earth and retire. I’m sure you’ll agree that changing their coach this close to the competition is a bad call.”

  Allen’s words were a buzzing in her ears, hearing the words, her brain refusing to process them.

  “Jane,” Allen said, and Oliver realized she’d been staring at her own reflection in the surface of her desk, jerked her eyes up to him.

  “Are you reading me?” Allen asked.

  “Yes… yes, sir.”

  “OK,” Allen stood.

  Enough of the shock wore off for the questions to start flooding in. “Sir, may I ask why?”

  Allen sighed again. “Look, Jane, I appreciate what you tried to do here. For what it’s worth, the old man was impressed by the innovative line you took. But when you risk a lot, you pay a lot when it doesn’t work out. If it were up to me, this wouldn’t be happening. I’m sure if it were even up to the old man, this wouldn’t be happening. But this is coming from the Secretary of Homeland Security, Jane. I guess you tweaked the Navy’s nose hard enough for them to go as high and hard as they could. This is the result. I’m sorry, Jane. For what it’s worth, we’re not demoting you. You’ll retire as a rear admiral. As far as I’m concerned, you earned those shoulder boards, and you’ll hang them in your shadow box with pride. I hope that’s something.”

  The shock and dread began to boil away, the anger surging in its place. “So, that’s how it goes, sir? You sent me out here to do the job my way, and when my way becomes inconvenient, you hang me out to dry?”

  “We sent you out here to train this team to win Boarding Action, Jane. We didn’t send you out here to try to win this jurisdiction fight with the Navy all by your lonesome. I tried to tell you before that this fight is bigger than just you, that you had a team around you, that you could trust us to be doing our jobs in the head-shed. I get why you hit it the way you did, and I’m as impressed by your guts as anyone, but there are some things in the world that are bigger than one person, Jane, and this time, it bit you. Even if we had no doubts about your methods, it’s out of our hands now.”

  Oliver’s mouth worked, a thousand retorts forming and vanishing, the churn of rage and hurt and humiliation and despair utterly disarming her. Oh God, Tom. I really fucked this one up.

  Allen waited another moment, giving her a chance to respond. At last, he shook his head, placed a hand on her shoulder. “Jane, I hope that, whatever you do after this, you give yourself some peace. Kariawasm and Flecha. Tom. They weren’t your fault, Jane. Skipper or no, you were one person at Lacus Doloris that day. You were one piece of a big and incredibly complex machine that was breaking down under equally big and complex stressors. If there’s one lesson I’d take from this, it’s that it isn’t just you. You don’t have to carry everything yourself. I hope you’ll remember that in your retirement. For once in your life, Jane. I hope you’ll give yourself a break.”

  He went to the stateroom hatch, paused again. “You’ve still got another two weeks to Boarding Action. I know I can count on you to continue training the team with the same intensity and passion you’ve exhibited so far. But you got to do it your way, and it has nearly gotten one of your star players killed twice. That is over. SAR-1 is off alert status. No more radio calls. You will stick to the simulator, the range, and exercise evolutions until show time. And I do not want you sitting in the boat with them. You direct from a distance.”

  “It was the MARSOC16 team that saved our bacon in that dustup, sir. They’ve got their people out there doing the job, too! They’re not sticking to the simulators!”

  “We are not talking about MARSOC16, Jane. We’re talking about SAR-1. SAR-1 is done running radio calls, and you are damn sure done riding herd with them when they get underway. Is that clear?”

  The rage fled, leaving Oliver only with a drifting numbness. “Crystal, sir.”

  “OK, good. We’ll talk again after Boarding Action and figure out how best to get you retired. You never did a headquarters tour, so I think it makes more sense to do it at Yorktown, or even…”

  “Yorktown! What about my waiver to retire here? Alice needs me to help out with her operation.”

  “That waiver was granted before…” Allen waved an arm as if to indicate some invisible pile of wreckage, “…this, Jane. The old man isn’t inclined to be doing you any more favors right now. You know the regs. Nobody retires on the 16th Watch. You’ll head back to Earth. If you want to come out here to be with Alice, you’ll have to buy a berth on a ro
cket.”

  Oliver felt her stomach clench. “Sir, you know damn well that I’ll never be able to afford that.”

  “Alice managed.”

  “Alice was staked by a financier for her mining operation, won the space elevator lottery, and she came out here during the H3 rush years ago. You know damn well I won’t be able to do any of that now.”

  Allen only shrugged. “Thanks again for all you’ve done, Jane. It was a demanding assignment, and you gave it your all.”

  Oliver stood, staring at the stateroom hatch after it closed behind him, battling the numbness and confusion. It took Ho a full five minutes waiting in the passageway before he finally came in.

  He took in the expression on Oliver’s face, the fact that she was standing, staring at the hatch. “That bad, huh?”

  The familiar sarcasm of Ho’s tone allowed some of her humanity to return, and Oliver collapsed into her chair, the breath whooshing out of her. She felt tears track from the corners of her eyes, blinked them away. “How much did you know?”

  “Only that Allen was here, that he was going to be speaking with you alone, and that I was not to let you give any additional commands until after that conversation had occurred. I kind of put two and two together from that. What’s the damage?”

  “I’m relieved, Wen.”

  Now it was Ho’s turn to slump. He sat on the rack, hunched over, his shoulders hooped forward as if his tall frame had been deflated. “Fuck. When do we leave?”

  “Not until after Boarding Action. Avitable is going to continue running things, I’ll finish training the team. We’re off alert status. Simulation only. And once we finish Boarding Action, then I go home.”

  “Jesus, boss. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, Wen. I dragged you all the way out here…”

  Ho waved a hand. “Stop that. I was honored to come, and I’m still honored. I’m guessing this is because of the arrest and that last run?”

  “Not sure. He said it was out of his hands. It came down from the Secretary of Homeland Security. Donahugh must have pulled strings with the Secretary of the Navy and I guess they did some horse-trading. Jesus Christ, Wen, how could I have been so stupid?”

  “Don’t do this to yourself, boss. You weren’t stupid. You saw a shot and you took it. They sent you out here to do an impossible job and you tried your best. That’s not a thing you have to apologize for.”

  Oliver punched her desk. “I got McGrath shot. Twice.”

  “McGrath signed up to get shot. He’s ME rated. That’s literally their job. You think he’d have been happier attacking a plywood six-pack? Or playing laser-tag with a video screen? He’s OK. They all are. You are too.”

  “Allen said it was because I tried to fight the Navy all by myself. He said that I… that it was because of…” Her throat closed, and all she could get out was a choked gurgle.

  Ho pursed his lips. “Yeah, well. There might be something to that, boss. I know you never really let yourself off the hook for what happened at Lacus Doloris.”

  “You knew? Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Look, you’re my friend, but you’re my boss first. There have to be boundaries, even with us. You let me get away with too much as it is.”

  “Yeah, I guess I do. Fuck! I can’t believe I fucked this up.”

  “Boss, just because your decision to put the team on real radio calls instead of the simulator was driven by your personal demons doesn’t mean it was wrong. Allen, the old man, the Secretary of DHS, whoever made this call is making the wrong call. You were given a New York minute to get a demoralized and fractious team whipped into shape to go out and win one of the most demanding competitions against the toughest opponent this side of the Moon or Earth. You were faced with an extreme task, and so you took extreme measures to achieve it. And that bit you on the ass, sure. But that doesn’t mean that you made the wrong call. It just means that you missed the target this time.”

  “At least he’s going to keep it quiet. He’s talking to Avitable now, but they won’t tell the command. I’ll finish out the training, take the team to Boarding Action, then quietly head home.”

  “Home?”

  Oliver bit back tears. “They’re sending me back to Earth to retire. Regs. Nobody can retire out here.”

  “They can make an exception.”

  “Allen says they won’t.”

  “Jesus Christ, boss. How are you going to get back out here to help Alice?”

  Oliver put her head in her hands. “I won’t.”

  Ho started to stand. “Boss, I’m so…”

  Oliver felt the tears gathering behind her brow, didn’t want to cry in front of him. “Let’s not talk about it, please. I just… I can’t right now. Tell me what you’ll do, Wen?”

  “Nothing for now. I’m not saying a thing to Ting-Wei until after Boarding Action. Then I’ll turn in a dream sheet to the detailer and see where they want me.”

  “God, Wen, I hope this doesn’t reflect badly…”

  Ho stopped her with a wave. “Don’t be dramatic. You’re a flag officer who got caught up on the wrong end of a political scrap. You’re not a virus. You can’t infect my career.”

  “God, and now I have to walk back into that ready room like nothing happened and try to keep on training these people. What am I doing, Wen? Every time I follow my gut, things go pear-shaped.”

  “I’ve got news for you boss, every time anyone does anything things go pear-shaped. I know you outrank me, and you have more time on the job, but I’ve learned a thing or two in my day. Nobody ever knows what they’re doing. You remember when Alice came along?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “I remember when Lillie was born. I thought I had it all figured out with Hui-Yin, but I somehow managed to screw things up just as much. The only difference was that I screwed them up more confidently.”

  As he spoke, Oliver rummaged around in the desk’s top drawer, grateful when she found that the bottle of Widow Jane was still there, and still a quarter full. She pulled it out, uncorked it and took a slug, not even bothering with a glass.

  “Look, boss,” Ho went on, “if turning out top-tier sailors was easy, they could have grabbed some middle-of-the-road-just-follow-orders officer out here to get the job done. But training great people and making them work together as a great team doesn’t work like that. If it did, I’m sure someone would have written a manual on it.”

  “There are manuals written on it. Lots of manuals.”

  Ho waved a dismissive hand. “Not good ones. There’s a reason they brought you out here, boss. There’s a reason they picked you for this impossible job.”

  “For the life of me, I can’t figure out what it is.”

  “Because they trusted that gut you keep following.” He stood, put a hand on her shoulder. “Now, you just need to learn to do the same.”

  CHAPTER 14

  When you act on your gut, you’re unpredictable. Mercurial. Authentic. You make leaps of logic and see connections others miss. Gut instinct lets you see beyond where your business is today to what it could be tomorrow. That’s why it’s such an important part of what I call the Rare Breed. Don’t get me wrong – instinct isn’t always right. Brain science tells us that useful gut instinct depends on having plenty of knowledge and experience about your field. And as powerful as intuition is, if you don’t follow it with planning, skill and strong management, all you’ve got is a cool idea on a whiteboard.

  SUNNY BONNELL,

  4 LEADERS WHO WON BY FOLLOWING THEIR INSTINCTS

  (DESPITE BEING TOLD THEY WERE CRAZY)

  Oliver felt barren, stripped of hope. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been counting on a future with Alice until the option had been taken from her. The grief was so powerful that it approached physical numbness, in her face, in her fingertips. How could you have been so stupid. How could you have let this happen. She tried to recall Ho’s comforting words in her stateroom after Allen had left, but she couldn�
��t conjure them now. All she could do was take numb step after step back to where SAR-1 waited. The further future sprawled before her in a gray, hopeless wash. She could only focus on the minute by minute in front of her nose.

  The crew was waiting for her when she came into the ready room. They weren’t in their hardshell undersuits, which could only mean that they’d gotten word somehow, probably from the monitor that no longer listed them as the duty crew.

  They looked up at her, strange in their utility uniforms, so long unworn that they looked brand new. She reached the table, braced herself on her knuckles, paused, suddenly unsure of how to begin. The silence stretched uncomfortably long, and her stomach clenched at the thought that Ho might try to break it to them himself, but her XO only gave her the silence and room she needed to get her bearings. It was Chief who finally cleared his throat. “How are you doing, ma’am?”

  “Not so good,” she admitted. She felt her grief over the loss of her life with Alice rising in her gut, pushed it back down with an effort. God. I have to call her. Later. I’ll deal with it later. “I take it you know we’re off alert status. It’s back in the simulator.”

  “Says ‘crew rest’ on the monitor, ma’am,” Pervez jerked a thumb at the screen, but Oliver held her eyes, only taking her at her word.

  “Oh no,” Oliver somehow mustered a smile. “There will be no rest. We’re back to training starting tomorrow. We are still going to win Boarding Action.”

  The expressions on the faces of the crew told her attempts at shoring up their egos had fallen flat. “I don’t get it,” she said, “when I first suggested taking you off the training regimen and putting you on the job, you all looked at me like I was nuts.”

  “Yeah, well,” Pervez said. “I guess we kinda got used to it, ma’am.”

  Oliver surprised herself by chuckling. “Yeah, kinda gets under your skin, doesn’t it.”

  “Literally,” McGrath tapped his bandaged side, which got a smile from everyone, even Chief.