Panic Switch полностью

“And who are these guys, Gang?” Dankleff pointed to the strangers. One was short and stout, but built of all muscle, his blonde hair cut short, a pugnacious look about him. He looked like a boxer, Pacino thought, although he didn’t have the height to pull it off. The other newcomer was tall and thin, his legs and arms long, as would well suit a basketball player, with dark hair, also cut short, with a young, innocent-looking face. A bit doe-eyed to be a combat submariner, Pacino thought. And at a half-head taller than Pacino, he looked too tall to be allowed to serve in submarines.

“Gentlemen,” Gangbanger said, “Allow me to introduce our new nubs. By some strange twist of fate, the detailers sent two officers to New Jersey with the same fuckin’ last name. They are both named Cooper. Apparently, to distinguish between the two, that tall one over there they call ‘Long Hull’ and of course, the shorter one who looks like he’d knock you out with one punch? That’s ‘Short Hull.’” The sub force had been known to take submarines and extend their length by adding compartments, leading to some being called long-hulls, as they were currently doing with the Block V Virginia-class, adding an entire compartment aft of the forward compartment just to hold cruise missile tubes. The Block IV sailors looked with disdain upon the Block Vs, considering them just big missile-carriers rather than true attack submarines.

Pacino shook Long Hull’s hand, then Short Hull’s. “Nice callsigns,” he said. “I’m Patch Pacino, sonar officer. Some idiots have been known to call me ‘Lipstick,’ but don’t you two dare ever call me that, or I won’t sign your qual cards.”

Long Hull Cooper made a sour face. “‘Long Hull,’ for fuck’s sake. I guess it beats ‘Wingspan,’ which is what they called me at the Academy. But my first name is Ben.”

“Oh, an Academy grad,” Ganghadharan said. “So are these three morons.” He nodded to Pacino, Vevera and Eisenhart.

“What about you, Short Hull?” Dankleff asked. “And call me U-Boat.”

“My first name is Eli, believe it or not, but I was always just called ‘Coop.’ And no Naval Academy for me. My dad flunked out a decade before I was born, so I suppose they thought I’d screw up too. I ended up at Penn State. Electrical engineering.”

“Ah yes, the great Penn State, my very own alma mater,” Gangbanger said, looking pleased.

“Why ‘U-Boat’?” Short Hull asked Dankleff. Dankleff pulled him close and spoke into his ear for a moment.

“Either of you guys married?” Vevera asked. The newcomers both shook their heads. “You know, we’d be an all-bachelor crew but for Gangbanger over here. That idiot got pulled into an arranged marriage. Can you believe that? In these modern times?”

Ganghadharan smirked. “Allow me to show you what you get in an arranged marriage, people.” He pulled out his phone and drew up a photo of his wife. “Sonia, in all her glory.”

“Holy shit,” Pacino said, whistling. “I’ve never seen her picture or met her. She’s gorgeous. You’re kind of punching over your weight class with her, aren’t you, Gangbanger?”

“Sonia may invite us all to dinner after this op,” Ganghadharan said. “But not you, Lipstick. Arsonists are most certainly not invited. Pacino here burned the Vermont down to the drydock blocks,” Ganghadharan explained to the new officers.

“Oh hell,” Pacino muttered.

“We all heard the story,” Short Hull said. “I managed to get to watch the video. I was pretty impressed, Mr. Pacino.”

“Call me ‘Patch,’ Coop,” Pacino said. “What jobs did you guys have on the PCU unit?”

Short Hull spoke first. “I was torpedo division officer. Not sure if they’ll scramble up our jobs now with you Vermont guys cross-decking over.”

“And you, Long Hull?”

“Reactor controls division,” Ben Cooper said.

“Have you guys spoken to Easy Eisenhart over here? Easy, you’re being awfully quiet tonight. What’s up?” Pacino looked at Eisenhart, who seemed close to tears. Out of character for him, Pacino thought. He’d never seen Easy in any mood but jocular.

Lieutenant Don Eisenhart, Vermont’s communications officer, or “communicator,” lifted his eyes from the floor. “Remember the girl I was seeing in Virginia Beach? She just decided she’s had enough of dating a fast-attack sailor. Turns out, SSN does not stand for submersible ship nuclear. SSN stands for Saturdays, Sundays and Nights. Being at sea all the damned time doesn’t make for much intimacy.”

Dankleff clapped Eisenhart on the shoulder. “Hey, chin up, Easy, there’s always another girl to romance, marry, divorce, and give half your stuff to.”

“U-Boat here got divorced from Eurobitch,” Vevera explained to the new officers. “His little feelings are still hurt from it. Hey, look, it’s Boozy Varney. Boozy!” Vevera waved over a short, slender, black-haired, olive-skinned man to the table.

“Listen up, Hulls,” Dankleff said to the younger officers. “This is Muhammad ‘Boozy’ Varney, our esteemed electrical officer.”

“Boozy?” Short Hull asked, confused.