The Crucible. Joaquin De Torres

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СКАЧАТЬ Two Stennis F/A-18 Super Hornet fighters, flying some 20 miles south responded, chasing the MIGs out of the area. No shots were fired. Interestingly, just two hours prior to this incident, four Chinese Fulcrum fighters flew across the Taiwan Strait and into Taiwanese airspace for approximately 45 seconds until Taiwanese jets scrambled to intercept them. Fighters from the USS Ronald Reagan also responded, but the MIGs had already flown back to China before her fighters arrived.

      “We will bring you more details as we follow the intensifying North Korean and Taiwanese situations. This has been a special late-breaking update. Live for CNN in Seoul, I’m Gloria Hawk.”

      Pentagon

      Office of the Secretary of the Navy

      “You want what!?” Lance Stevenson couldn’t believe his ears after hearing the request. The 58-year-old Navy Secretary almost spit up his mouthful of coffee. He reset his thin-rimmed glasses back on the tip of his nose.

      “I want to withdraw Commander Torres from the current command selection list, as well as take her off the stop-loss program so she can get out of the Navy.”

      The skin under Antonio Espinoza’s eyes was blotched with dark rings. His hair was a disheveled mop, and his uniform hastily thrown on. He had not slept for three nights; two of those nights were on his office couch. He sat up those hours, rifling through naval documents, electronic libraries, stop-loss regulations, human resource manuals, decommissioning procedures; trying to find loopholes, concessions, vague language--anything, to grant his best friend a wish that he had no power of doing. He now sat facing a man with so much influence and so many connections, that he could grant that wish with just a single nod of his head, or the wink of one eye, each equating to the stroke of a pen.

      There would, however, be a price. Antonio didn’t know what that price would be just yet, but he knew the game. In the upper echelons of Pentagon politics, one hand always washed the other. Paying back such a favor usually equated to performing an official duty outside one’s job title and jurisdiction. Taking care of something behind the scenes; opening a door for someone that was previously closed; making something potentially problematic go away; or even simply--remaining silent to something that could be construed as a conflict of interest, illegal or even immoral.

      “Am I hearing you right, Tony? Did you say Kristina Torres?”

      “That’s right.”

      “The Kristina Torres? The single greatest technical mind in naval science today? You want her to separate from the Navy? Is that what I’m hearing?”

      “That’s right, Lance,” Antonio huffed exhaustedly. “That’s exactly what you’re hearing.” Antonio felt like a teenager asking his father for the keys to the Mercedes the day after crashing the BMW. He didn’t even brace himself for the rejection; he was already thinking of the call he would make to Ramon. How horrible that call would be.

      “May I ask why?” Lance Stevenson sat back and folded his hands calmly. The power and leverage he possessed were both enviable and despicable at the same time. In his pocket he had those who sat on review, selection and confirmation boards; he dined with Wall Street CEOs; and golfed with lobbyists, congressmen, lawyers, and judges. This placed him in the position of having the power to grant un-grantable favors, and he never forgot who owed him.

      Although Stevenson had total control of the Navy in all forms political, there was one member of the admiralty he could not control or buy--Admiral Ramon Torres. His dislike for Torres was historic. Their egos just could not mesh in the same room. They were the best in their jobs and they knew it. Each of their decisions affected the other in policy and strategy, and this, they despised. Their confrontations were legendary.

      During an appropriations proposal to cut Pacific Fleet funding, Torres tore into Stevenson with so much rancor, that the state secretary asked Torres to leave the room. The animosity shared between them sucked on Stevenson’s skin like a leach each time he heard the Torres name. They avoided each other at all costs.

      Antonio knew this all too well. But in this situation there seemed to be no way out. A choice had to be made in a no-win situation. Someone would have to be crucified for the sake of someone else. Antonio would have to choose between himself or Ramon. The choice rotted his conscience like a rampant cancer. He desperately needed this woman in the Navy. There was no denying her engineering prowess which was second to none.

      Her tall, physical beauty could manipulate men; her innocent unpretentious charm could earn the trust of women; and her genius could save a fleet of ships. Kristina Torres was born to command. But if there was one weakness that overshadowed all her gifts it was her inexperience in battle conditions, and that was Ramon’s fault.

      Ramon shielded her throughout her career, keeping her from getting too deep into the very art and science that she had so soundly mastered. He guarded her fiercely like a possessive king watching over his virgin princess. From the course curriculum she pursued at the Academy, to the men she associated with, he was there to grant or deny permission. Antonio understood that Ramon had to be this way. Kristina, despite all her brilliance, was a fragile doll, still emotionally scarred by her personal tragedy years ago. Ramon stood guard over the only thing he loved more than his own life. As a result, twice he kept her from her own command.

      Another question entered Antonio’s mind: What did Kristina want? He had not talked with her in months. Was he wrong to judge Ramon? Was Ramon just echoing Kristina’s own wishes? Or was this just another chapter in his control scheme? Did she want to command? With her credentials she could get any ship in the fleet save a carrier or sub. But did she want that? How can a person who practically redesigned the offensive capabilities of an entire class of combatants just want to up and walk away from it all? What she had done for naval science not only took genius but it took passion. It had to! Not since Admirals Rickover and Hopper had a single luminary change the course of naval strategy. Yet Rickover and Hopper reached their professional zeniths when they were in their fifties and sixties. But Kristina, at the age of 34, was just getting started, and her zenith was far from imaginable.

      What did she want to do? Suddenly Antonio was enveloped in his own dialogue, finally forced to consider just a single person’s needs.

      “I’m waiting for an answer, Antonio,” a familiar voice said, yet his internal conversation didn’t seem to notice.

      But the tragedy. The subject suddenly entered Antonio’s mind like an assassin’s bullet.

      Even if given command, could she handle the pressure? She practically lost her mind 16 years ago. What if it happened again? What if Ramon’s premonition was right? Would the sight of death and blood--even fire--dislodge the genius, dismantle the judgment and discipline on which her delicate condition rested? Would the demon rear its head during a crucial moment, causing the delay or even the collapse of decision-making abilities that would compromise the safety of her crew?

      “Antonio, who’s really asking these questions? Is it Commander Torres herself, or Ramon?”

      Could she handle the exhausting, suffocating pressure of command in the Ring? The voice outside his inner conversation continued to speak.

      “I can’t believe that it would be you, Antonio. You were the one who insisted that Torres either command the Rosa Parks or be given a bigger, better experimental ship than the Gettysburg.”

      Antonio’s thoughts were too deep to realize that there was still another person in the room, a person who was speaking to him.

      She’s СКАЧАТЬ