No Decision by Ridge King

Author:Ridge King [King, Ridge]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-11-03T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

At Sea in Fearless

Executive Officer Lieutenant Rafael St. Clair took the slip of paper from a seaman who’d just come from the radio shack and held it under the light suspended over the darkened front rail of the bridge on the U.S. Coast Guard Cutter Fearless.

At the same time, Captain Billings made his way onto the bridge from the port side door and came over to stand beside St. Clair.

“Anything interesting, mister?”

“Message through DRMC Sector Key West from the park rangers at Fort Jefferson, sir. Seems they’ve had a raft land there with a half dozen Cubans aboard.”

“And they want us to repatriate them, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Rafters?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’ll take us a little out of our way.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We won’t get back to Miami for another twelve hours.”

St. Clair didn’t say anything. He found that the less he said around Captain Billings the better. It seemed like every time he opened his mouth or expressed an opinion, the captain jumped all over him. Of course, given their awkward personal relationship, that could be no surprise. So St. Clair found it the wiser policy simply to say nothing, or to say the very least he had to without appearing to be rude or insubordinate.

Skye Billings looked at St. Clair through the indirect dim light refracting off the hard edges of the metal on the bridge. They could just see each other’s outlines, though their eyes glistened in the half-light. Without looking at his watch, St. Clair guessed it to be about 0300 hours.

“No, sir, not for at least twelve hours.”

Quietly, so no one else on the bridge could hear, Billings said:

“And it’s Raven’s birthday.”

“Yes, sir.”

Billings looked at him sharply.

“I don’t want to miss her birthday.”

“No, sir.”

Billings looked away, out ahead. In a much louder voice, he said:

“Plot a course for Fort Jefferson, Lieutenant, and send a signal through DRMC Key West that we are on our way.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Establish direct communications with the ranger station at Fort Jefferson.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Also, see what other ships—Coast Guard or Navy—are in the area that might make the trip to Cuba for us. I’ve noticed a little problem with our rudder controls that concerns me. Got a report from Chief Renzo about this a couple of days ago.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

St. Clair saluted smartly and Billings nodded, bringing his hand up casually to return the salute halfheartedly, and turned to leave the bridge.

When he was gone, St. Clair turned to Ensign Doheny.

“Ensign, plot a course to Fort Jefferson where we will pick up some Cuban rafters.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“And go to the radio shack and get me a list of any other military vessels within two hundred miles that might render assistance by repatriating the Cubans to Havana. We have a rudder problem.”

“Aye, aye, sir!”

Doheny disappeared through a hatch.

There was nothing wrong with their rudder, St. Clair knew, because all the paperwork having to do with the ship went through the executive officer’s hands before it went up to the captain. Chief Renzo had merely put in writing that the rudder needed to be examined within the next 90 days to meet a maintenance requirement.

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