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I want to run a regular liberty schedule and get everyone off the boat for some time ashore, we have to hit it hard and see to our repairs. Not to mention get the DDS off and, as soon as possible, remove those two TLAM-Ns from the torpedo room.” He shook his head, clearly not liking the two nukes being on board. “Those damn things are giving me ulcers.”
    “Captain, what about the SEALs?” Graves asked.
    “Our guests will be departing within the next few days,” he said simply. “Or so I’ve been told.”
    Brodie looked around for any other questions. Everyone except for Kristen and the XO looked at him expectantly, assuming he would explain what had occurred over the last few hours in the wardroom. He unbuttoned his dress coat and loosened his tie, finally looking uncomfortable in the formal clothing. “Anything else?” he asked, offering no hint as to what occurred in the wardroom between himself and the review board. There were no more questions, and he departed, keeping whatever thoughts he had concerning the visit by the admirals and the civilians to himself.
    Several of the junior officers shook their heads in disbelief after he departed. “Not so much as a word,” Terry whispered to Kristen. He’d conveniently stood next to her, as he always tried to do in such meetings. “He didn’t say a damn word about the meetings.”
    “Perhaps we’re better off not knowing,” she told him and, without another word, returned to her cabin.
     
     

Chapter Three

    The Kremlin
    S moke from multiple cigarettes and cigars rose above the assemblage of Russian power players gathered around the long mahogany table forming a bluish cloud above their heads. On the table were several serving trays with alcohol and water. Almost all had chosen the former. The Russian President was seated at the head of the table. Flanking him along each side of the table was the rest of his Security Council. Although not part of the government according to the Constitution, the Security Council was truly where all decisions in the Russian Federation were made. As the head of the Council, the President’s thoughts held considerable influence, but he valued the opinions of the power ministers he’d selected for the Council.
    “The American Navy has responded as predicted to the crisis on the Korean Peninsula,” the Minister of Defense explained. His name was Sergei Sokolov. At fifty-three he was one of the younger men present. Unlike most of the others, he’d chosen to drink only water, and the President trusted his council more than most. “Of their ten operational carrier battle groups, three are currently either in the Sea of Japan or in Japanese ports undergoing emergency repairs.”
    “What about the other seven?” the Foreign Minister asked nervously. Everyone in the room was privy to the grand scheme, and the Foreign Minister was one of the more cautious of the group. Her name was Veronika Puchkov, and at sixty-two she’d been involved in foreign policy longer than anyone else at the table. But she was another trusted councilor who was willing to offer a difference of opinion the President often found refreshing. More importantly, her loyalty was unquestioned.
    The Defense Minister explained, “One of their carriers is currently in dry dock at Newport News undergoing a lengthy refit and will not be available for service for at least another eighteen months. That leaves six. The USS Theodore Roosevelt is preparing to leave Norfolk with her escorts. We believe she is heading to the Persian Gulf to fill the gap left in their usual patrol areas after they redirected the Nimitz and George Washington battle groups in response to the crisis on the Korean Peninsula.”
    “And how long will it take before they reach the Gulf?” Puchkov asked, knowing the presence of even one American carrier could ruin the carefully laid plans.
    “If they left today,” the Defense Minister estimated, “they wouldn’t arrive for at least four