Targets Entangled Read Online Free PDF Page B

night operations would take on some additional workload for obvious reasons. Until then she’d handle the lion’s share of radio channel encryption key changes that almost always occurred during her shift. The COC operations chief or his watch officer would hand over each channel in turn to be rekeyed and op-checked to be handed back to the designated end user. Of course that didn’t include the additional requirement of putting through most of the crew’s personal ship-to-shore radio calls back home. Few of the ship’s crew were authorized satellite phones for security purposes and that meant she got to log each radio call back to the MARS operator nearest to their desired family member’s or spouse’s location. Now that they were entering the Panama Canal, the time zones had shifted and those crewmembers that wanted to talk to their families during the evening local time in San Diego needed to do so on her shift.
    “Sorry,” Ferrin mumbled, rubbing her forehead and using work as an excuse as to why she was easily distracted. “I’m just a little tired. As the number of radio net requirement increases as the op tempo picks up, there is going to be a need for every RT asset we have on board. Jerry and I got everything up and running so far. You may want to check on what nets the COC and bridge are going to need in the ops order for this upcoming mission as soon as it gets released. We may have to arrange to de-conflict between the two of them and get the chief involved.”
    “You got tomorrow off, right? So relax and take it easy. We’ll save you some work for when you come back on shift.” Roger took the log of calls that had been placed last night out of her hands and quickly scanned it as if he was looking for something. “It’s only going to get worse the farther away from home we get and the longer we’ve been gone.”
    “Trust me, I know.” Ferrin removed her glasses and tucked them into her blouse pocket before gathering her favorite mug that she’d already washed out along with her container of Tic-Tacs. She couldn’t leave without inquiring about his interest in the logbook. She waved a hand toward the duty log. “Is there something wrong?”
    “Not really,” Roger said, skimming the papers one more time. He glanced her way with a smile. “Everything is good to go.”
    “Okay,” Ferrin said, not quite believing him. She shrugged slightly, not really understanding his personal peculiarities. It would take a whole team of specialized abnormal psychologists to sort out his odd behavior traits. “Have a good one.”
    Ferrin didn’t hesitate as she walked out into the passageway and continued to her cabin. She was sharing one with Nina Cornwall, but they hardly ever saw one another since the woman worked first shift on the bridge. There was no way that she was going to sleep with the direction that her thoughts were leading her. Instead she changed into some workout clothes with the intention of draining her body of its collective stress and anxiety that she’d gained during the lapsed week since her run-in with Daegan.
    Ferrin maneuvered through the passageways with her iPod and ear buds in hand until she’d made it to the ship’s physical fitness compartment. Since the change of shift had just occurred, there weren’t that many people using the equipment. She chose the better of the two treadmills, thinking a good half-hour run would accomplish what she needed. Once she had herself set up she zeroed the incline option that caused problems even with a minimum sea-state environment. She set the base speed and initiated her normal pre-programmed routine.
    Ferrin focused her sights on the weights in front of her instead of the mirrored bulkheads and allowed the music to carry her mind away from the slight burn in her thighs. It felt good and she increased the speed after fifteen minutes. At least thirty minutes had passed before she noticed someone in her peripheral vision and her attempt at