Free Counter Poised by John Spikenard Page A

eliminate the new threat, why would you refuse to even consider using it just because of some artificial designation as strategic rather than tactical?”
    “Now don’t go trying to use logic on him—admirals aren’t known for that, you know!”
    George laughed and repeated one of his stock phrases, “What good are boomers on patrol against a band of terrorist thugs with a nuke?” He continued, “We might as well put the boomers to good use in the attack role. After all, boomers have sonars and torpedoes, too, you know.”
    “Yes, sir, I know.”
    “Okay, one more thing,” said George, realizing he didn’t need to convince Petty Officer Harris. “Add another slide related to joint operations. Let’s list the names, telephone numbers, and e-mail addresses of points of contact for coordinators in the coast guard and the air force. We want to show the admiral we have a joint plan to intercept anything coming into the country, be it under the surface, on the surface, or in the air. Got it?”
    “Aye-aye, sir.” Leona turned and started for the door.
    “And keep that great memory of yours for numbers working during the briefing. I want to lay out the current disposition of forces when we get back to the office.”
    As she hurried out the door, she glanced back. “Yes, sir—as always!”
    Leona Harris had an unusual ability, which George had found to be very useful. She could look at a map or chart during the briefing and afterward remember the minutest details of the numbers and positions of all of the ships and submarines depicted. Her memory had made George look like a genius more than once!
    George knew Admiral Yates was not going to be happy about this briefing. But who was? At least Ops would fare better than Intel, because at least Ops had a plan to do something. And since it was widely accepted that the Washington DC nuke had been delivered by submarine, putting additional attack boats and boomers on patrol seemed like a wise thing to do. The only thing Lannis will be able to do is say, “We don’t know, sir,” and “I’ll try to find out, sir.” The admiral will rake him over the coals! George thought.
    Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.

Chapter 8
     
    Around 0745, as George worked on his notes for the briefing, Petty Officer Humphrey stuck his head in the doorway and said, “Excuse me, Commander Adams.”
    George looked up nervously from his notes, the rush to get the briefing ready starting to wear on him. “Yes, Hump, what is it?”
    “The briefing has been delayed until 0900, sir. Admiral Yates is on a conference call with the CNO and the Atlantic and Pacific fleet commanders.”
    George breathed a sigh of relief as the impending deadline was delayed. There would be plenty of time now to get his notes in order. “Okay. Thanks.”
    As Petty Officer Humphrey made his way down the hall to other offices, Buffalo appeared in George’s doorway. “Story of our lives—hurry up and wait! I could have slept an extra hour this morning,” he joked. “So where’s Sparkle Eyes? You don’t get any help this morning?”
    George got a pained look on his face. “She’s getting some of my slides ready for the briefing. And would you stop calling her that?”
    “Hey, don’t be so touchy. She’s just the Ops yeoman, you know. It’s not like I’m insulting your sister or something. Besides, it’s a complement. She does have rather captivating eyes!”
    George leaned back in his chair and stretched, then jumped up. “Let’s go get some coffee,” he suggested, changing the subject. The two of them walked down the hall to the coffee machine where Lannis, also taking advantage of the delay, had just prepared a fresh pot. The relief of having an extra hour to prepare the briefing put George in the mood to continue his verbal sparring with Lannis.
    “Well, well, well,” said George as they approached Lannis. “It’s our isolationist intel officer brewing up a pot of imported coffee!”
    Lannis