Dead Reckoning Read Online Free Page B

The conference table was nothing more than four brown, fold-up tables, like you might find at a church potluck, pushed together. The chairs around the tables were all the leftovers from the range—some with torn cushions, others leaning badly, and still others with missing parts—the chairs that nobody wanted to sit in on a daily basis but that the range did not want to throw out. A small alcove off one side held a coffee maker, microwave oven, and sink.
                  “Well, let’s get this started,” said LTC Polian. He introduced me, and I relayed what I knew to the team:
                  “Tropical depression 01-W formed earlier this afternoon approximately 300 miles east-southeast of Kwaj. It is already well on its way to becoming Tropical Storm ‘Ele.’ The storms we are already seeing today are likely the beginnings of a feeder band which indicates the storm is quickly gathering strength. It will likely reach T.S. strength within the next 12 hours, and within 24 hours, Ele will be near Typhoon strength.
                  “Isn’t May a little early for this sort of thing?” asked one of the other contractors on the island.
                  “Yes, but it is not unheard of. The El Nino we’ve had going on for the last year has kept the very warm water parked over the central Pacific, and it is just an unfortunate set of meteorological circumstances that came together in the wrong place. Best guess movement right now is west at 5 knots. Steering flow is not very strong, but her general movement will be west-northwest around a sub-tropical ridge positioned between Johnston and Hawaii.”
                  “So, it’s going to go right over us?” asked Sam.
                  “Forecasting the exact track of tropical storms in the first 24-48 hours after development is very difficult….”
                  “Cut the bullshit,” ordered Range Commander Blaine. “It sounds like we have less than 24 hours to ready this installation for a typhoon. Now is not the time for waffling. You know what happened on Wake!”
                  He was referring to Super Typhoon Ioke, which struck Wake Atoll, just 500 miles due north of Kwajalein Atoll. Ioke devastated Wake Atoll, and if not for a very fortuitous jog to the north just before landfall, the atoll likely would have been turned into a sand bar.
    “Of course I do, sir. But the good news is that all the buildings are still standing. People could have survived there.”
    He looked at me skeptically over the top of his glasses.
    “They had time to evacuate, and you and I both know that they were lucky, Matt. That was a hell of a forecast by the JTWC which gave them five days to get everything ready and then bug out. We don’t have th at luxury. Give us your no-bullshit best answer.”
    It was rare for anyone to contradict Colonel Blaine, primarily because he was the Commander, but also because he was a large, black man and quite imposing despite his pronounced limp. His clean-shaven head, crooked nose, penetrating eyes, and deep voice only added to his bad-ass image. He played football at the United States Military Academy at West Point—linebacker. The rumor was that he blew out his knee in the first quarter of the first game of his junior year, and the team didn’t find out about it until half time. He made two tackles and one interception in the second quarter with a blown knee. Because of his knee, he never started another game for Army, but he was already legendary. I knew him casually but never dared ask if the rumor was true. The fact that it was within his power to throw anyone off the island for no good reason, didn’t put people at ease around him either. But I knew my business.
                  “Sir. I’m not bullshitting you. I just don’t want to give you an inflated sense of the confidence I have in the going forecast. Obviously, we didn’t