Mercer laughed. “How long does that usually take?”
“Sometimes minutes. Sometimes years.” Bertil’s eyes twinkled. “But once decided, we commit fully. No half measures.”
A cultural note filed away. Mercer had worked with dozens of allied forces over the years. Each had their quirks. The Swedes seemed methodical, careful, and prone to debate. But their preparations showed attention to detail that spoke of competence.
“Sergeant Holloway will coordinate billeting details,” Mercer told Colonel Lindqvist. “What about local support? Fuel, food, medical?”
“Already arranged. Our quartermaster will brief your logistics NCO. Medical support from Visby Hospital for serious casualties. Field treatment here.” Lindqvist paused. “One suggestion, Captain.”
“Sir?”
“Your men. When they have liberty, remind them they are guests. Gotland does not see many foreign soldiers. Most will welcome you. Others…” He spread his hands.
“Understood. We’ll maintain a low profile,” Mercer assured him.
“Good. Because if this exercise across the water becomes something more, we’ll need the population’s support. Fear makes poor allies,” replied Lindqvist.
Alex finally found a quiet spot to call his wife. He’d been gone two days now, and he’d promised he would do his best to stay in touch while he was gone. He knew tomorrow was a big day for her and he wanted to make sure she knew he hadn’t forgotten. Pressing the phone to his ear, he smiled as Maddie’s familiar voice came through, warm yet tinged with a hint of nerves.
“Hey, babe,” she began softly, a gentle sigh following. “How are things going on your end? You guys getting settled?”
“Yeah, we’re getting things sorted,” he began. “You know this place is beautiful, Madz. You were right, Gotland is beautiful.”
She laughed. “Hey, can I get you to say that again while I record it?”
He scrunched his eyebrows. “Huh? What?”
“You know, that part where you said I was right?” she replied while stifling a laugh.
“Ha-ha, you got me there, Madz. OK, I’ll say it again, slow for you… you were right. Did you get that?” he joked good-naturedly with her as she laughed. He missed that — hearing her laugh.
“So, you know tomorrow’s launch day,” she began. It was the release date of the third book in her series, which she had been working on feverishly for months. “I really wish you were here for it. It just won’t be the same celebrating it without you at da Mario.”
He smiled softly, picturing their favorite spot vividly — the cozy Italian bistro in Creazzo they’d made their tradition on every release day. “I wish I was there too. I know it’s going to be amazing, Madz.”
She sighed again, worry creeping into her tone. “I really hope so. We’ve put so much into this ad campaign. If it doesn’t take off… I’m just worried about the finances, the nanny, all of it.”
“Hey, trust the process,” Alex reassured her gently. “You’ve done everything right. Just focus on the kids, enjoy the day, and let the launch happen. We’ll deal with whatever comes afterward.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, gratitude softening her voice. “Speaking of the kids, they’re doing great. The twins adore Caroline — honestly, hiring her was the best decision we’ve made in a long time.”
“And Alex Junior?”
“Your mini-me?” Madz laughed lightly. “He’s a handful, but Caroline manages him like a pro. Seriously, that woman deserves a medal.”
“I’m glad it’s working out,” Alex said, warmth and relief easing his worry. “I know it’s been tough without your mom around.”
“Yeah,” Madz agreed quietly, her voice momentarily thick with emotion. “But having Caroline here these past six months has been a lifesaver. I don’t know how I would’ve managed the new book without her.”
“You’re doing great, Madz,” Alex reassured her again. “Tomorrow’s going to prove it. You’re an amazing writer, and the world is finally going to see that.”
“I hope you’re right,” she whispered, courage returning to her voice. “Stay safe, Alex. Come home soon.”
“Always. Love you.”
“Love you more, Blackjack Six.”
It was 0900 hours, and already the Fleet Auditorium’s air conditioning had lost its battle against Hainan’s relentless humidity and the body heat of the nine hundred officers packed within.
Captain Shen Tao had arrived early, securing a seat among familiar comrades halfway up the tiered rows. He noted how those in the auditorium subtly divided themselves — veteran commanders clustered together, exchanging knowing glances heavy with unspoken implications, while younger officers and fresh-faced academy graduates sat toward the front, animated and oblivious to the weight of history poised to fall upon them.
“Attention on deck!” a voice boomed from the auditorium’s rear. Instantly, nine hundred naval officers snapped upright, rigid and respectful, as Admiral Chen Weiming, Commander of the Southern Fleet, entered with his entourage.
