"James Doohan - Flight Engineer Volume 2 - The Privateer-" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doohan James)

“A formality?” he asked coldly.
“Yes, sir. On a mission like this it’s only logical that I be cleared to fly.”
“Oh, really?” The general’s eyebrows were almost up to his receding hairline. He leaned back with a sigh and
stared at the ceiling for a moment. “I see you haven’t learned anything from your recent adventure with the
Dauntless,” he said casually.
Raeder flinched within.
Scaragoglu flicked off the holo and, drawing his chair in to the desk, leaned forward again, fixing Peter with a
glare the way a bug collector pierces a butterfly with a pin.
“A commander . . . Commander, doesn’t leave his or her post to go haring off to hell on a whim. That is what
being in command is all about. This is why we delegate tasks, even when we’d rather do them ourselves.” He set his
teeth. “It’s hard. It’s not going to make you popular. It will be misunderstood at every turn. But it’s what makes a
leader. I thought that you might have picked up on this little lesson by now.” His voice deepened to sarcasm. “Or
was Grettirson right in his assessment for a change?”
Raeder swallowed. Captain Knott’s angry words came back to him. “If you don’t know that yet you’ve risen as
high as you’re going to, or ought to.” But that isn’t the only reason I’d want to fly.
“Sir, I wasn’t necessarily saying I’d like to regularly fly a mission. But I feel that on an assignment like this
everyone should be cross-trained and cleared to perform any task. Otherwise an individual could become dead
weight at any moment. I’ve no desire to find myself in such a situation.” Sounds plausible to me, Raeder
congratulated himself. Now to see if the Spider bought it.
Scaragoglu stared at Raeder expressionlessly. Then he glanced at the captain, then back to the commander.
“Cleared to fly a Speed in an emergency,” he conceded.
“Emergency to be defined by me,” Raeder countered.
The general allowed the moment to stretch. It didn’t do to let a subordinate think they had you. And it would be
very unprofessional to let Raeder see I like him. How much better to be forced to restrain the noble stallion than to
prod the reluctant mule! It was going to be enjoyable having Raeder on board; a challenge, but enjoyable. Finally he
gave a curt nod of consent.
“Will I be allowed to pick my own people?” Raeder asked.
“I’d like to recommend a couple of Marine flyers, if you don’t mind,” Scaragoglu murmured. “This could turn out
to be a plum assignment if it’s handled right.”
“Very true, sir. I’d welcome any suggestions you may have. Especially since it’s essential to match personalities
in a case like this to minimize friction in close quarters.” There goes Paddy, Raeder thought with regret. The big
New Hibernian couldn’t abide a Marine.
Scaragoglu rubbed his hands together and conceded to himself that Raeder’s comment was well phrased. He’d let
the general know that he expected to have final cut regardless of anyone’s preferences, however highly placed they
might be.
He nodded briskly and stood.
“All right,” he said. “We’ll work out the details later. But if you work for me you have to understand two things,
Commander. One, I will not tolerate any willfully self-aggrandizing stunts.” Like the one that got you into my hands
in the first place, went unsaid. “And two, this is my mission you’re on. However far away from this base you may be,
you are under my direct command, representing me in the field. I expect you to behave accordingly.” He stared into
Raeder’s eyes for a long moment. “Is that clear, Commander?” he barked.
“Yes, sir!”
“Is that acceptable?” he asked more softly.
Raeder paused a moment before answering.
“Yes, sir.”
Scaragoglu’s lips quirked. Brass balls, sure enough, he thought—he knew full well how intimidating his presence
could be, especially backed up by his reputation. I wonder if the commander’s aware that he’s already picking up
some of the Spider’s tricks?
“Dismissed,” he said. Raeder snapped to salute and Scaragoglu returned it with an economical precision.
Peter turned on his heel and strode from the office, buoyed by hope for the first time in days. Rescued in the nick