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

save that ship.”
 Sjarhir shrugged and grimaced. “Grettirson’s always been a fanatical disciplinarian. But he’s gotten measurably
worse since his son was killed.”
Raeder frowned. He liked a commanding officer who hated to see his people killed. It was by far preferable to the
alternative, an officer who treated his troopers like inanimate game pieces, fungible goods to be expended like
ammunition.
“Still . . .” Peter murmured, shaking his head.
“I don’t think he’ll get away with it though,” Sjarhir said. “I heard that Anderson practically pulled him out of his
chair by the lapels when he suggested it.” He laughed. “She is one officer I wouldn’t like to get on the dark side of.”
“What can she do? She’s only a vice admiral,” Raeder pointed out.
“Yeah. She’s his junior, but she’s got a lot more respect than he has.” Sjarhir nodded wisely. “He’ll pay attention
to what she says, even if it makes him break out in boils.”
“How do you know all this?” Raeder asked. How was a lowly captain of Marines aware of the intimate details of
relationships in the upper echelons of Star Command?
“I’ve got a bud on the vice admiral’s staff,” the captain said easily. He leaned towards Raeder confidentially. “It’s
what the old man wants to do to you that worries me.”
Peter hunched down over his drink with a scowl and didn’t answer. There was nothing to say.
“Y’know what you oughta do,” Sjarhir said.
Raeder looked at him. “No,” he answered. “What?”
“You ought to volunteer for some spectacular mission. When you come back they’d never dare to send you to a
desk job.”
Peter snorted and grinned. He held up a hand as featureless as a rubber glove. “First, this is the sort of thing that
gets you rejected when you try for that kind of mission. Second, where am I going to find this mission, volunteer,
and be accepted in time to overrule Grettirson’s ardent desire to make a scapegoat out of me tomorrow morning?”
The captain smiled slowly and in a way that filled Raeder’s stomach with ice. He could almost hear the
Indonesian thinking, “Gotcha!”
I should not have serious conversations with strangers after the third Glenlivet, he thought.
“If it’s convenient,” Sjarhir suggested, “I could take you to someone who can help you right now.”
“Who?” Raeder asked, suspecting with dawning horror who it had to be.
“Marine General Scaragoglu.” Sjarhir’s dark eyes were inscrutable and his face was as bland as dry toast.
Even expecting to hear that name, a cold ball of panic flashed into being in Raeder’s stomach. Get a grip, he
ordered himself. You’ve only got two choices. One: let Grettirson ship you back to Earth in disgrace. Two: go have a
look at whatever rattlesnake Scaragoglu is passing around. I mean, how bad can it be? I can always turn it down.
“C’mon,” Sjarhir urged, “what have you got to lose just by listening? Besides, the general’s whiskey is better than
this slop.”
“Then by all means,” Peter said, rising, “lead the way, Captain.”
 CHAPTER TWO
Lieutenant Commander Sarah James tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair and recrossed her long legs yet
again. She knew her fidgeting was distracting to the captain’s secretary but simply couldn’t stop it; waiting in offices
wasn’t her forte.
Odd, considering that as a WACCI pilot (the acronym stood for Warning, Assessment, Control, Command,
Information) a lot of her working life demanded waiting in perfect stillness. And James was extremely good at her
job.
But waiting in an office for an appointment was just dead time. It made her think guiltily of reports that she
should be working on, or frustratedly of things she wanted to check on her craft, or her equipment. She put both feet
flat on the floor, tapped her toes for awhile, then crossed her legs. There was a muted chime and the captain’s voice
said: “Send Lt. Commander James in now, Lieutenant.”
James and the secretary looked at each other with Thank God! written on both their faces. Sarah rose and tugged
at her midnight blue uniform, brushed one hand through her short auburn curls, then with a nod to the lieutenant she
walked to the door and entered the eagle’s nest.