"I knew you were a good XO, Frank." O'Malley debated between bug juice and coffee. The fruit drink this morning was the orange kind-the flavors didn't relate to any particular fruit. O'Malley liked the red kind, but not the orange. He poured some coffee.
"I supervised the torpedo loading last night. We cut a minute off our best time-in the dark."
"Sounds good to me. When's the pre-sail brief?"
"Fourteen hundred, in a theater two blocks from here. COs, XOs, and selected others. I expect you'll want to come, too?"
"Yeah."
Ernst's voice dropped. "You sure the skipper's all right?" There are no secrets aboard a ship.
"He's been on straight combat ops since Day One of this fracas. He needed to get a little unwrapped, an ancient and honored naval tradition"-he raised his voice-"damned shame that all these little boys are too young to partake in it! Didn't anybody think to get a newspaper? NFL summer camps are opened all over the country, and there ain't no paper! What the hell kind of wardroom is this!"
"I've never met a dinosaur before," a junior engineering officer observed sotto voce.
"You get used to him," Ensign Ralston explained.
Two days' rest was just what the doctor ordered for everyone. Sergeant Nichols could almost walk normally on his ankle, and the Americans, who were beginning to regard fish with distinct distaste filled up on the extra rations the Royal Marines had packed in.
Edwards's eyes traced around the horizon again. The human eye automatically locks onto movement, and she was moving. It was hard not to look. It was almost impossible. In fact, Edwards told himself, it was impossible to stand guard and not look around. The hell of it was, she thought it was funny. Their rescuers-Edwards knew better, but why upset her?-had also brought soap. A tiny lake half a mile from their hilltop perch was the designated bathing area. In hostile country no one went that far alone, and the lieutenant had naturally been detailed to look after her-and she after him. Guarding her as she bathed with a loaded rifle seemed absurd, even with Russians around. Her bruises were nearly healed, he noted as she dressed.
"Finished, Michael." They didn't have towels, but that was a small price to pay for smelling human. She came up to him with her hair still wet and an impish expression on her face. "I embarrass you. Sorry."
"It's not your fault." It was also impossible to be angry with her.
"The baby makes me fat," she said. Mike could scarcely tell, but then it wasn't his figure being changed.
"You look fine. I'm sorry if I looked when I shouldn't have."
'What is wrong?"
Edwards found himself struggling with his words again. "Well, after-after what happened to you, I mean, you probably don't need a bunch of strange men standing around looking at you when you're, well, naked."
"Michael, you are not like that one. I know you would never hurt me. Even after what he do to me, you say I am pretty-when I grow fat."
"Vigdis, baby or no baby, you are the prettiest girl I have ever known. You're strong, and you're brave." And I think I love you, but I'm afraid to say so. "We just picked a bad time to meet, that's all."
"For me was a very good time, Michael." She took his hand. She smiled a lot now. She had a gentle, friendly smile.
"As long as you know me, every time you think about me, you'll remember that Russian."
"Yes, Michael, I will remember that. I remember that you save my life. I ask Sergeant Smith. He say you have orders not to come near Russians because it so dangerous for you. He say you come because of me. You do not even know me then, but you come."
"I did the right thing." He held both of her hands now. What do I say now? Darling, if we ever get out of this alive... that sounds like a bad movie. Edwards hadn't been sixteen in a long time, but now all the awkwardness that had poisoned his adolescence came back to him. Mike hadn't exactly been the makeout king of Eastpoint High School. "Vigdis, I'm not any good at this. It was different with Sandy. She understood me. I don't know how to talk to girls, hell, I'm not that good talking to people. I do weather maps, and play with computers, but I usually have to have a few beers in me before I get the nerve to say-"
"I know you love me, Michael." Her eyes sparkled when she revealed the secret.
"Well, yes."
She handed him the soap. "Your time to wash. I will not look too much."
Major Sergetov handed over his notes. The Leine had been forced at a second place-Gronau, fifteen kilometers north of Alfeld-and now six divisions were involved in the drive on Hameln and others were attempting to widen the breach. Still they were handicapped. There were relatively few roads in this part of Germany, and those routes they controlled were still suffering from air and artillery attacks that bled reinforcement columns long before they could be committed to battle.
