Free The Trojan Sea by Richard Herman

like this, Mike, I prefer Mazie. Or if that makes you uncomfortable, Mrs. Hazelton.”
    Stuart was so flustered that he missed her use of his first name. But the general sitting next to him didn’t. “Ah,” Stuart said, “I think I took a wrong turn somewhere. You really want my boss here, not me.” No answer from Mazie, just the same encouraging smile. Stuart shook his head. “I have no idea how the president works.”
    “Efficiently,” Mazie answered, “and she’s amazingly straightforward. In this case she wants a hard, honest, and complete evaluation without a political spin. If there’s bad news, she wants to hear it now, not later when it’s too late to do anything about it. Let me put it this way: She hates surprises. Mike, you’re here because I briefed her on the shortfalls in tanker availability you predicted. She was impressed. Now, if you’ll all turn to paragraph two of the cover letter in front of you, you’ll see she wants a total review of the SPR, to include all upstream, midstream, and downstream factors.”
    Stuart relaxed. The national security adviser was speaking the language he understood. “We need,” Mazie continued, “to cut across all departments and leave no stone unturned. Obviously this is a major initiative and will need an executive head to shepherd your work.” She looked at the general sitting next to Stuart. “I asked General Butler to chair this committee and he graciously consented. He’ll report directly to me. Bernie, it’s all yours.”
    Lieutenant General Franklin Bernard Butler stood up. “Thank you Mrs. Hazelton.” He rapidly outlined how the committee would work and what their first goals were. From the ready acceptance around the table, it was obvious Butler was an accomplished administrator and had worked with them before. “I’ll need help and would like an assistant to act as the main point of contact and coordination. We need a technician who can see the big picture, keep it all in perspective, and be responsible for all the paperwork. I believe he or she should be from this group.” He looked at Stuart, recalling Mazie’s comments. “If it’s acceptable, I would like Lieutenant Colonel Stuart to step in.”
    Stuart felt a compelling need to visit the men’s room.
    Mazie nodded graciously and looked around the table. “All agreed, then?” There were no objections. The meeting rapidly drew to a close, and Stuart escaped to the men’s room.
    General Butler was right behind him. He was friendly as they stood at the urinals. “Well, it looks like you’ve a sponsor,” he said.
    “Sir, it’s news to me if I do. Besides, I’m not qualified to do this and, and—”
    The general interrupted him. “You’re worried about Ramjet, right?”
    Stuart nodded dumbly. How did Butler know about Priestly?
    “I’ll explain it to him,” Butler said, zipping up his pants. “And, Mike, when the national security adviser calls you by your first name, you’re qualified.”
     
     
    Stuart had barely returned to his office in the Pentagon when his phone rang. It was Priestly. “Mike, I heard the meeting went very well. Say, if you’ve got a minute, I would like to see you. No hurry, though. Whenever you’re free.”
    Stuart said that he was free, broke the connection, and made record time down the short corridor to Priestly’s office. Peggy grinned at him when he skidded past her desk. “Go right in,” she said.
    Priestly stood up and smiled when Stuart reported in with a sharp salute. The colonel waved his fighter-pilot salute back. “Please, Mike. That’s not necessary.” He motioned Stuart to a chair at the conference table in front of his desk while he buzzed Peggy and told her to bring in tea. He came around his desk and joined him. They made small talk until Peggy arrived with the tea tray. She banged it down, not happy to be Priestly’s servant, and walked out. Priestly smiled again. “Secretaries. They think they own the place.” They