Warning Order: A Search and Destroy Thriller by Joshua Hood

Author:Joshua Hood [Hood, Joshua]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, War & Military, Contemporary, Genre Fiction, War, United States, Thrillers & Suspense, Military, Suspense, Thriller, Contemporary Fiction, American, Literary, Thrillers
Amazon: B0176M3USI
Publisher: Touchstone
Published: 2016-05-30T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 31

* * *

Captain Chris Miller stood on the bridge, cautiously scanning the Iranian gunboat loitering a few miles off the bow. Every so often, he took his eyes from the binoculars and studied the helmsmen, who had a death grip on the massive wheel, guiding the Nimitz-class supercarrier into the inbound clearway.

The Strait of Hormuz, only twenty-one miles wide, was the gateway for 20 percent of the world’s oil. Due to the strait’s narrowness, the International Maritime Organization had established inbound and outbound lanes of travel for any ship entering or leaving the Persian Gulf.

Tims had been through the Strait of Hormuz many times, but this was his first at the helm of the USS George H. W. Bush, and the last thing he needed was some Iranian captain trying to dick him around.

During his time as a naval aviator, he had played chicken with Russian MiGs over the North Sea, but at 1,092 feet in length, the George Bush was a hell of a lot less maneuverable. It was well known that Iranian naval officers liked to act like assholes whenever a naval battle group entered the Persian Gulf, and Miller knew that without protection from the other ships, the carrier made an inviting target.

“Wouldn’t you just love to blow his ass out of the water?” his XO—executive officer—asked, handing him a steaming cup of coffee.

Miller lowered the binos to his chest, and he could feel the leather strap biting into the back of his tan neck as he reached for the mug.

Born in Rhode Island, he came from a generation of navy men, and his grandfather had actually flown with George H. W. Bush during World War II. The navy was in Miller’s blood, and he’d known that he wanted to be an aviator before he was even out of elementary school.

“Back during the first Gulf War, I almost got a MiG-29 right around here,” he said, his pale blue eyes smiling as he took a sip of the coffee. “It’s funny how everything comes full circle.”

“What do you mean, Cap’n?”

“This is my last cruise. The last time through the strait and the last time I have to deal with assholes like that,” he said, motioning to the gunboat with the mug that had his name emblazoned on it in gold script. “Seems like everything changes but stays the same over here.”

“We’re going to miss you, sir.”

Miller was known as a fair skipper who took care of his men, as long as they took care of his boat. His true passion was still flying, though, and he knew he was going to miss being in the air most of all.

“I’ll miss you guys too. Not really sure what I’m gonna do. Hell, the navy’s all I’ve known since Annapolis.”

“Well, sir, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“You’re probably right.”

He was taking another sip when he felt a tremor run from the deck up through his legs. “What the hell?” he said, stumbling as a tearing sound screeched up from bowels of the ship, knocking him off balance.

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