The Cruiser Read Online Free PDF

devastated.”
    â€œI’ve been looking at the stats. There are underlying problems, that’s pretty obvious. And they just came out of four months in the yard. So maybe this will actually turn out positive for them.”
    â€œBut when you get hit, the bruise doesn’t show for a while. You need to stay on top of that. Ask for what you need. Stay close to the squadron commander—”
    Dan leaned out again, to see the doors opening. “Gotta go, Dick. Court’s adjourning, I mean, mast’s adjourning.”
    â€œGood luck.”
    *   *   *
    HE stood watching as they filed out. They staggered, as if unused to dry land, or as if they’d lost blood and were in shock. Their gazes slipped past his or dropped to the marble deck. Chiefs, a lieutenant, petty officers. He wondered if he should close his door. Let them pass unseen. He’d been a defendant himself. Once you’d gone through it, the experience was demystified. Yet still it felt strange watching each man emerge; orient himself, as if lost; then depart, soles scuffing away down the empty hallway. At the far end two marines waited, fists on hips. The escort to the barracks, from whence they’d be flown back to the States. Not even to return to the ship to pack.
    Last out was a shaken-looking man with silver shining at his temples like the chromium eagles on his collar. He was fingering the gold star and anchor on his left breast that meant he’d held command at sea. He looked as if he were walking toward the electric chair.
    Then his gaze rose, and Dan read the sentence in those blank eyes. Misconduct, improper performance of duty, improper hazarding of a vessel; the precise wording of the specifications hardly mattered. The man’s career was over.
    The former commanding officer of USS Savo Island blinked. His gaze registered the eagles on Dan’s own collar. His lips tightened. “They needed a scapegoat,” he murmured bitterly.
    â€œExcuse me?”
    â€œThey needed a scapegoat. Make sure you’re not the next one.”
    Then he was gone, striding with steady paces down the bright echoing corridor.
    â€œCaptain Lenson? The admiral will see you now.”
    He took a deep breath, squinting after the departing figure as it vanished into white light. Then checked his gig line, rubbed his mouth, and crossed the hall.

3
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    THE next day, as tugs chuffed and strained alongside in brilliant winter sunlight, Dan climbed the boat ladder to the main deck. A boatswain’s whistle trilled from the gray ramparts. A bell gonged, and the 1MC intoned hollowly, as if from the belly of a brazen idol, “ Captain, United States Navy, arriving. ”
    Savo Island rolled beneath his feet. A smoky haze above the city linked fingers with a mist over the water. The hills marched along with them as the tugs churned her stern-first toward an outer anchorage. As he reached the quarterdeck a blast of diesel exhaust blew across, rasping in his throat. A double line of chiefs and officers in blues snapped to attention, swaying in a buffeting wind. Dan right-faced aft, saluted a streamed-out flag, and nodded to the officer of the deck. “I have permission to come aboard.”
    â€œVery well, sir.”
    The OOD’s arm snapped down. He looked apprehensive. No one in the double line of sailors Dan paced between was smiling either. Another gust, and a white hat flew off, hit the deck, and rolled into the scuppers. The now-bareheaded sailor, whose name tag read Benyamin, winced but held his salute, lips paling, as dirty water darkened the bleached cotton. Dan ran his gaze along one rank, then the other, noting not so much the details of uniform as the faces.
    He dropped his salute, and a ragged line of arms snapped down. He wheeled out of the wind, into the quarterdeck passageway that led from one side of the ship to the other.
    A slight, balding, painfully thin commander in khakis hovered