Free Jack Ryan 6 - Clear and Present Danger by Tom Clancy Page A

within five thousand dollars of being able to pay cash for one.  His baggage was already loaded into the back of
    
    
     Jackson
    
    
    's Honda CVCC when the lieutenant emerged from the barracks.  Chavez tossed him the keys back.
    “Where they picking you up?”
    “Division G-1 is what the man said, sir.”
    “Why there?  Why not Martinez Hall?”
    
    
     Jackson
    
    
     asked as he started up. 
    
    
     Martinez
    
    
     was the customary processing facility.
    “Lieutenant, I just go where they tell me.”
    Jackson
    
    
     laughed at that. “Don't we all?”
    It only took a couple of minutes. 
    
    
     Jackson
    
    
     dropped Chavez off with a handshake.  There were five other soldiers there, the lieutenant noted briefly.  All sergeants, which was something of a surprise.  All looked Hispanic, too.  He knew two of them.  León was in Ben Tucker's platoon, 4th of the 17th, and Muñoz was with divisional recon.  Those were two good ones, too.  Lieutenant Jackson shrugged it off as he drove away.
     

Jack Ryan 6 - Clear and Present Danger
    3.
     
    The Panache
    Procedure
     
     
    W
    EGENER
    '
    S INSPECTION CAME
     before lunch instead of after.  There wasn't much to complain about.  Chief Riley had been there first.  Except for some paint cans and brushes that were actually in use—painting a ship is something that never begins or ends; it just is—there was no loose gear in view.  The ship's gun was properly trained in and secured, as were the anchor chains.  Lifelines were taut, and hatches dogged down tight in anticipation of the evening storm.  A few off-duty sailors lounged here and there, reading or sunning themselves.  These leapt to their feet at Riley's rumbling “Attention on deck!” One third-class was reading a Playboy.  Wegener informed him good-naturedly that he'd have to watch out for that on the next cruise, as three female crewmen were scheduled to join the ship in less than two weeks' time, and it wouldn't do to offend their sensibilities.  That Panache had none aboard at the moment was a statistical anomaly, and the change didn't trouble the captain greatly, though his senior chiefs were skeptical to say the least.  There was also the problem of who got to use the plumbing when, since female crewmen had not been anticipated by the cutter's designers.  It was the first time today that Red Wegener had had something to smile about.  The problems of taking women to sea . . . and the smile died again as the images from the videotape came back to him.  Those two women—no, a woman and a little girl—had gone to sea, too, hadn't they . . . ?
    It just wouldn't go away.
    Wegener looked around and saw the questions forming on the faces of the men around him.  The skipper was pissed about something.  They didn't know what it was, but knew that you don't want to be around the captain when he was mad about something.  Then they saw his face change.  The captain had just asked himself a question, they thought.
    “Looks all right to me, people.  Let's make sure we keep it that way.” He nodded and walked forward to his stateroom.  Once there he summoned Chief Oreza.
    The quartermaster arrived within a minute.  Panache wasn't big enough to allow a longer walk than that. “You called, Captain?”
    “Close the door, Portagee, and grab a seat.”
    The master chief quartermaster was of Portuguese extraction, but his accent was
    
     New England
    
    .  Like Bob Riley he was a consummate seaman, and like his captain he was also a gifted instructor.  A whole generation of Coast Guard officers had learned the use of the sextant from this swarthy, overweight professional.  It was men like Manuel Oreza who really ran the Coast Guard, and Wegener occasionally regretted leaving their ranks for officer status.  But he hadn't left them entirely, and in private Wegener and Oreza still communicated on a first-name basis.
    “I saw the tape of the boarding, Red,” Oreza said, reading his captain's