Tipping Point: The War With China - the First Salvo (Dan Lenson Novels) by David Poyer

Author:David Poyer [Poyer, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Thriller & Suspense, Sea Adventures, War & Military, Genre Fiction, Sea Stories, Thrillers & Suspense, Military, Thriller, Thrillers
ISBN: 9781466857421
Amazon: B00XU113V6
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2015-12-08T06:00:00+00:00

12

The Indian Ocean

HE passed the rest of the night in fevered dreams, each with some aspect of frustration or terror. He took Savo, now a huge silver spaceship, down to land on an asteroid where she displaced all the air, leaving them unable to breathe on the surface. Yet they had to accomplish some shadowy mission … He didn’t remember the rest, but each dream was unimaginably detailed, vivid, scary. Each time he was about to die, or the missile was about to hit, he battled to wakefulness, panting and coughing. He sucked on the inhaler in the dim light from the radio remote. Listened to distant creaking, voices. Then let his eyelids drag shut again.

Cheryl woke him at 0800. Grissett hovered behind her, with Longley in the doorway. They looked concerned. “Sir, we doing all right?” the exec murmured. Her hand hovered over his brow, but she didn’t actually touch him.

“Yeah … still here.” He coughed and cleared his throat. Tried to roll out, but found he just had too little horsepower to sit upright. “Um, maybe some coffee—”

“Right here, Captain. And some nice rye toast, with butter.” Longley set the tray down, poured half a cup. Dan eyed the plate, but it made him feel like hurling.

“Try to eat,” Grissett said. “Even if it comes up again, you’ll get some nourishment.”

“Look, you guys don’t need to fuss over me.” He gathered all his strength and hauled himself upright. Then grabbed the bunk frame just before he went down. “Where … where’s Wuhan? Mitscher? Pittsburgh? What about this increased alert status?”

Staurulakis explained, but Dan couldn’t get traction on the answers. Something about the Chinese task group re-forming south of Karachi. Something else about submarine activity off Singapore. He sagged back into the bunk. “I’ll be up to the bridge in a little while. If anything serious goes down, Commander Staurulakis has command authority. Chief, Longley, you can witness that.”

Staurulakis patted his blanket. “Stay here, Captain. There’s nothing to worry about.” Grissett drew a glass of water from the tap and set it and two white oval pills beside the bed.

The door closed, leaving him staring at the overhead. “Nothing to worry about.” With the newly confident and aggressive Chinese moving into what might very well be a blocking position, and tensions escalating between Pakistan and India?

If only that were true.

* * *

HE slept until 1030, when guilt goaded him out of bed. He felt very slightly better, or at least stronger, though every muscle ached, his head still felt stuffed with bronze wool, and his thinking was not exactly first-class. He started to shave, but his hands shook; he quit after the second sting that meant he’d cut himself. He stepped into yesterday’s coveralls, made sure he had a pen and his Hydra, and lurched into the passageway.

Only to stare up in dismay at a ladder that loomed above like the East Col of the Matterhorn. He was about to turn back when one of the fire-control petty officers stepped out of the equipment room, ran a gaze up and down him, and held out an arm.

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