Free The Circle by David Poyer Page B

socks.”
    â€œThanks, uh, Tom. That’ll help.”
    â€œWe need to get you into the divisional routine,” Norden said. “Officers’ call’s at oh-seven hundred. Muster goes at oh-seven fifteen, forward on the main deck. I’ll introduce you to the men.”
    â€œI’ll be there, sir.”
    His department head transferred his attention to breakfast. Mabalacat threaded past with a covered tray. The captain’s? Dan mopped up the last yolky trickle and excused himself. He stopped by his room again for the wheel book Vogelpohl had issued him, thrust his arms into a foul-weather jacket, and let himself out onto the main deck.
    The morning was blue and chillier than the day before. Save for a few cotton wads of cumulus, their rounded tops shining in the sunlight, the ship was solitary in a vast curving saucer of ocean. Ryan centered herself in it flawlessly, hissing through four-foot seas the color of a drowned Norseman’s eyes. Seabirds dipped along the crests. The deck gleamed with dew and spray, slick where the nonskid had worn away.
    Officers’ call was on the Asroc deck, between the stacks. He nodded to the others and leaned against the launcher.
    For a few minutes, he gave himself up to contemplation. The sun glittered redly two points off the dipping bow. Every seven or eight rolls, the ship curtsied, making the men lean to keep their balance. He enjoyed the feeling of speed, the cold, clean breeze. The old destroyer’s periodic inclinations were like the lurching stroll of an old salt. He’d worried about getting seasick, but so far he felt great.
    Talliaferro, Evlin, and Cummings rattled up the ladder and fell in facing aft. Norden joined them. They chatted in low tones about something called a VDS hoist. The jaygees and ensigns fell in behind their department heads.
    At 0700, a cap bobbed above the ladder. The exec’s bulky body followed it. Evlin called, “Attention on deck.” Lieutenant Commander Bryce adjusted his tie, aiming his little smile around at them.
    â€œCarry on. Gentlemen, I believe you’ve all met Mr. Lenson. Say hello, Dan.”
    â€œHello, sir.”
    â€œHe’s going to whip First Division back into shape, give us a red-hot new team out on deck. Or go the same way as his predecessor. Right, Dan?”
    â€œGoing to try, sir,” he said. He felt Bryce’s eyes linger, and stared straight ahead.
    â€œLieutenant Norden, you’ll be judged on that basis, too.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œSo. As the captain said yesterday, we won’t have much good weather this trip. Items requiring clear skies or steady seas should be accomplished as early as possible. That means start today. We still have a lot of crap lying around from the yard, especially in engineering berthing and the shaft alleys. Clean it up! We’ll have captain’s inspection on Saturday, like we used to before the yard. Shakedown general quarters later this morning. Any questions? Very good. Carry out the plan of the day.”
    That, apparently, was a dismissal. The officers saluted. Dan did, too. His mind was still on the threat. Had Bryce really said that?
    Norden turned, waving in his division officers. He talked with Ohlmeyer and Murphy for a moment, then nodded to Lenson. “Okay, Daniel, this is it.”
    â€œSir?”
    â€œLet’s go check out the lion’s den. Ha! Get it?”
    â€œSubtle, but I caught it, sir.”
    He followed Norden down the ladder to the main deck and forward along the starboard side. The weapons officer pointed wordlessly at a fire station; he saw tools wedged behind hose, a blush of rust already creeping over them. At the turn of the deckhouse, he centerlined his belt buckle and tilted his cap forward.
    They rounded the corner, into Bloch’s hoarse “Attention on deck!”
    â€œGood morning, Chief. Have them stand at ease.”
    â€œFirst Division, at ease.”
    The