Jake found his way to his visiting commanding officer’s quarters, entered its stale confines, and collapsed onto his bed. While he retained a shred of consciousness, he called his wife, but the call went straight to voice mail. To allay her concerns, he left a message that he was safe and on shore.
The ringing phone rousted him from his slumber.
“Yeah?”
“You’re not planning to sleep through lunch, are you?” Renard asked.
“No. Come to think of it, I’m starved.”
“Get cleaned up and join us at noon in the officer’s club. You can walk there. Attire is business casual. The fleet uniform will suffice.”
“Who’s going to be there?”
“Just friends. This will be a low-stress affair.”
Jake arrived last at a table set for seven guests. Cahill and Walker provided the new faces since he had docked the Specter. After warm salutations, he sat next to Henri and grabbed a tong full of salad.
“Want me to pour you a coldie, mate?” Cahill asked.
“Hell no. I mean, no. No thanks.”
Chewing his salad, he scanned the seats. Along with the pair of Australian sailors and Renard, Jake had his top three veterans with him. With the Specter’s engineering spaces showing no hiccups underway, he had seen little of Claude LaFontaine.
“Claude, right?”
“Glad you remember. You hardly see me because I keep the heart of your ship pumping. Be grateful that I do. Those MESMA units can get tricky, but I’ve got them figured out.”
“Speak freely, gentlemen,” Renard said. “This entire club has been reserved for us.”
Jake looked around and realized that his party sat alone in the room.
“What’s there to talk about?” he asked.
“Whatever you want,” Renard said. “Reconstruction with recommendations, so to speak.”
“Well, if nobody else wants to talk,” Cahill said, “I’ve got improvements to the Goliath I’d like to see.”
“I was afraid of that,” Renard said. “My bank account is already wincing in anticipation of the pain.”
“That laser cannon is no good, mate. You’ve got to give me a serious close-in weapon system. I need a Phalanx or a Goalkeeper. Something with metallic rounds that will count when I hit an incoming missile and give me a chance to damage other contacts that get close.”
“You’re not going to be shooting your cargo very often, I trust.”
“That aside, you know the laser was lackluster against the missiles. It barely took down one whereas you know a bona fide close-in weapon system would have made mincemeat out of them.”
“The cost of the consumables, though,” Renard said. “Have you any idea how much armor-piercing tungsten penetrator rounds would cost me? Right now, I pay nothing for your laser shots.”
“I think you got a deal on that laser and stuck me with it because it was cheap. Now I understand that most warriors are fighting with hardware that was awarded to the lowest bidder, but I need hard metal rounds for me air defense.”
Renard sighed and reached for a glass of Merlot.
“I’ll think about it.”
“That means, yes,” Jake said.
His mentor shot him a gruff sideways look as he sipped.
“What about explosive rounds for me cannons?”
“I’m quite willing to consider it, as I have before. But this is more than a question of money. Explosive rounds have greater length and require more storage space, which means you’d have to roughly halve your inventory. I think you’re doing fine with splintering rounds.”
“You could set me up with a mix. You know, a few dozen explosives in their own storage racks, in case I need them.”
“Very well. You make a good point. I’ll evaluate that in our down time.”
“Thanks, Pierre,” Cahill said. “Next, we need to consider anti-torpedo standoff weapons.”
“Dear God, man. Are you trying to bankrupt me?”
“Oh come on, Pierre,” Jake said. “Hear him out. I could also use an option to take out an incoming torpedo. The world has been shooting down missiles for decades. It’s about time we started taking out incoming torpedoes. The initial trials are looking promising.”
“Promising, indeed, if you’re a nation with a twenty trillion dollar gross domestic product defending aircraft carriers worth upwards of five billion dollars.”
“But it can be done, and it’s worth looking into,” Jake said.
“It looks like I’ve found an ally,” Cahill said.
“The present technology would take excessive adaptation to work on either of your ships, adding to the already enormous costs.”
“I don’t think he loves us anymore,” Jake said.
“That statement presumes much,” Renard said. “And no, I will make no promises or overtures regarding anti-torpedo defenses.”
“How does the cost of repairing the Goliath compare to the cost of acquiring an anti-torpedo system?” Jake asked.
Renard leaned into the table.
“I’ll share a trick of the trade with all of you. The repair of the Goliath is counted as an expense for which our clients are liable. They pay for all consumables such as fuel and ordnance, and they pay for damage or loss of capital. That’s rather standard in my negotiations.”
The realization struck Jake as cruel.
“So wait,” he said. “You mean, if you invest upfront money to keep me, Terry, and the boys alive, it comes out of your pocket. But if we get battered around and nearly die, say, for lack of having the hardware you refuse to invest in, any loss or damage comes out of your clients’ pockets?”
“Precisely.”
“Well, now I know you never loved us.”
“Unfair,” Renard said. “As long as we’re analyzing this from the perspective of cold business, you must consider the cost of replacing you all. You’re all my best assets and practically irreplaceable.”
“Too late, mate,” Cahill said. “You’ve told us where you stand. We’re not buying anything nice you have to say about any of us ever again.”
A steward wheeled out a suckling pig and two broiled chickens, along with a plate of vegetables for the party to share family style.
“No matter,” Renard said. “It’s not your fickle moods that interest me at the moment.”
“Then whose fickle moods are on your mind?” Jake asked.
“I need to take advantage of our client’s present state of euphoria to close the details of this mission’s transactions. Assuming the payments clear into my account this afternoon, this evening’s celebration shall be grand.”
“What’s going on tonight?” Jake asked.
“A victory party. Our clients will be in their dress uniforms. But don’t worry. I’ve got jackets and ties selected for most of you.”
“Most? Not all?” Jake asked.
“Would you like to explain it, Antoine?”
“No, not me.”
“How about you, Henri?”
“No, Pierre. I think it’s best that you share some good news to partially recover from the hole you’ve dug already today.”
“Very well,” Renard said. “Linda forbade it. She’s picked out your ensemble. She’s already landed in Seoul and will be arriving on the base with the other wives today.”
Jake’s heart raced with anticipation.
“What about the wives never knowing where we’ve been?”
“I didn’t see a way of pretending that the Goliath wasn’t off the coast of Korea. There are too many witnesses. I’ll have to come up with a new security scheme. But for now, enjoy your day.”