The Cruiser: A Dan Lenson Novel by David Poyer Page A

Hermelinda, is there a stock number for the chassis?”
    The supply officer said patiently, “If it was in the supply system, it would have a stock number, sir. But since it isn’t—”
    “Okay, okay, I get it.” He looked at his LAN screen. “I’ve got your CASREP. But before I put it in, I’m going to make a call.”
    He’d thought about doing this via the new high-side chat function. But he distrusted chat. There was no paper trail. There wasn’t even, if he understood it correctly, really an electronic trail, or at least one he trusted to be secure.
    Because he didn’t want this to get out. It was bad enough they were degraded. To let it become public knowledge would mean they didn’t even have a deterrent value. Like letting another boxer, your opponent, know you had a broken right hand. There was no paper trail on the red phone, either, but at least it was a secure circuit.
    He’d have to make three calls, though. To Commodore Roald, first. Then to Sixth Fleet, and to the commander of TF 60, the task force he’d be joining, at least temporarily, on his way to his ultimate station. Or should he depend on the message traffic to keep them in the picture? He’d ask Jen. She’d know.
    A few minutes later he had her on the red phone, and everyone had left except Mills. The STU-3 was warm in his hand. Roald sounded the same as she had when he’d called her once from Korea. Deliberate. Cool. Almost remote. “You’re still operational, though. Correct?” she said.
    “Affirmative … but without the reserve DPD. Over.”
    “How was your effectiveness before that?”
    Dan recalled Dr. Noblos’s sour assessment. Where was Noblos anyway? He hadn’t seen the civvie rider since they’d put to sea. “I’d have to say … the jury’s still out on that. Uh, over.”
    “ Can you continue the mission? ”
    He started to say “I think so,” but that didn’t sound so good. He cleared his throat and started over. “Yes. But we need help, specifically on repair parts. The message will give you more detail. It’s going out now. Over.”
    “ What’s your ETA at Point Hotel? Your rendezvous with the task force? ”
    “Just altered course for it. The full-power run went fine, by the way. I’ll get you an ETA by message.”
    “You understand there’s no other unit in the Med, or in the pipeline, with your capability, Dan. And we’re going in. Not for attribution. But there’s no question. So you have to find a way to stay operational. More than that. To be ready for the worst. Over.”
    “I understand. Over.” But he didn’t feel that confident about Terranova’s troubleshooting and maintenance. And he obviously didn’t have enough spares allowance. “Uh, but this current problem … it’s the symptom, not the disease. I get the impression the ship—by that I guess I mainly mean the previous CO—depended too much on tech support, and not enough on growing own-team skills. Over.”
    Roald said he wasn’t the first cruiser skipper she’d heard this from. “ But it’s not a problem that developed in a day, and we’re not going to fix it in a day, or a week. Also ,” she added, “ I want you to keep all your CASREPs close hold. Please ride herd on that. Over .”
    “Already made that clear on this end. Any reference to our capability, or lack of same, is TS.”
    “Good. That’s maybe even as vital as actually making sure you have the capability.”
    Dan couldn’t help raising his eyebrows. “Even if we’re only a marker on the board?”
    He must have sounded sardonic, because she shot back, “Politics is just as real as operational readiness, Captain. Maybe more so. I should think, with your experience, you’d realize that by now.”
    “Appearance is reality? Over.”
    “Sometimes, Dan. Sometimes it is.” The secure circuit beeped and hissed as she let up on the sync key, then beeped again. “I recommend setting EMCON on all your ship-to-shore comms. And ‘River City’ on your