“I’m not asking you to take me on any spin. I can test the system at the dock. I just need access to the control room to get everything I need.”
“Have you read the rejection report?” he asked.
“Of course I did,” she responded, obviously growing impatient. “But ‘it ain’t working’ wasn’t much of a help.”
He glowered down at her. “I was the final signature on that report, Ms. Russell. I don’t recall that phrasing in it.”
“Really?” She pushed the brim of her hardhat back. “I’m kidding.”
“At four o’clock in the morning?”
“You were being pretty condescending, Commander.”
“Ms. Russell—”
“From the first moment I stepped into your path, you’ve been treating me like a moron, sir.” She put a hand up when he tried to interrupt. “Despite being a woman, I’m a ship superintendent. People don’t walk in off the street and get this position. I have an electrical engineering degree and six years of shipyard experience. My specific training has been in sonar and navigation systems, and I was one of three people from Electric Boat who were sent to SPAWAR to get trained in testing and installation procedures for the new ESGNs. The management above me and the crew and supervisors who report to me have absolute confidence in what I do, and in what I direct them to do.”
“Ms. Russell…” He tried to interrupt again, but she shook her head and continued, her voice rising over the wind.
“I know the procedures, sir. I know the requirements. I also know only an idiot would replace such an expensive and major system without first looking at the inspection and rejection reports. Yes, they were detailed — as much as they could be — but they didn’t answer specific questions that I have. I’ve done everything that can be done at my end.” She shrugged. “Now, as far as how quickly you’d like to have your boat out of here, it’s up to you.”
McCann was impressed. He knew he could be arrogant, brusque, and even intimidating. He knew he’d been all that over the last few minutes. In fact, he probably had been ever since he’d woken up to Parker’s phone call this morning. Still, she’d stood up to him, her voice never wavering while she’d listed her qualifications and her beefs.
“All right. I’ll ask again,” he said in what he felt was a more civilized tone. “What do you need from me?”
“Permission to come aboard, sir, and test the system ahead of the production crew’s arrival.”
“You have papers?” He extended a hand.
She quickly pulled the clipboard from under her arm but didn’t open the hinged metal cover that protected the paperwork. “Let’s duck into the Pipe Shop. I don’t want my papers dissolving in the rain before I even get started.”
Leading him around a corner, she pulled open a door and motioned him inside. The shop appeared to be empty, but the lights were on. It was dry and warm and had the distinctive smell of pipe welding. As they crossed the concrete floor, McCann saw a figure appear behind the glass window of an office door. A piping foreman, blueprint in hand, nodded to them when he recognized the ship super, before going back to work.
“I can’t believe it,” Russell said, walking toward one of a half-dozen workbenches on the shop floor.
“Can’t believe what?”
She put her clipboard down on the workbench. Clean sheets of cardboard had been taped onto the bench, and the rain that dripped off her hardhat formed dark spots on the work area. Opening the clipboard, she pulled out work orders and copies of the inspection reports. She handed him a work order before answering him.
“You aren’t as bad as I expected,” she said as he glanced at the documents.
“You were expecting Shrek?” he asked.
He could see her face clearly for the first time. He was right. She was young. Her face was pretty. Her eyes glistened in the shop light.
“I’m not talking about your looks, Commander.”
“What then?”
She shrugged. “The other sub service officers I deal with. None of them are too comfortable with women.”
“I beg to differ,” he said absently, turning his attention back to the paperwork.
There was a long pause. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”
He raised an eyebrow and shot her a curious look.
She shook her head. “I’m talking about working with women. Especially women in management. As good as you might be working with other men, it seems like most of you guys lack confidence when you’re dealing with women.”
He fought back a laugh. “You think I lack confidence, Ms. Russell?”
“No, but you definitely have preconceptions. When I introduced myself, you automatically assumed that I wasn’t qualified to do the job.”
He was about to argue but she was starting to roll. “Don’t try to deny it, Commander. I don’t blame it on individuals. The system breeds it into you. The male-warrior culture you live in.”
“You seem to know a lot about it,” McCann put in. “Was psychology a minor in college?”
“As a matter of fact, I do know a lot about the lifestyle but that’s not only from books. And I do think a certain mindset develops in men who are stuck with one another for so many months at a time.”
“We’re not stuck with one another,” he said, hiding a smile as he handed the paperwork back to her.
“Whatever. You know what I mean. I think I’d be healthier if they allowed women to ride these boats.”
“Women are often on submarines.”
“Yeah… as passengers.” She carefully put her papers back in her clipboard and closed it. “Researchers, scientists, observers. And only on special occasions. I’m talking about regular crew.”
“You build them, Ms. Russell, so you should know why that isn’t happening. Depending on the boat and the mission, you could have three to a bunk in the crew’s quarters. Hot racking.” He looked at his watch. “Mixed gender crews sleeping in shifts for five or six months at a clip? That’s just looking for problems.”
“Hot racking. Wonderful term. I always thought that it sounded awfully painful.” She pulled up the collar of her jacket. “Sorry. No more questions unrelated to electrostatic gyro navigator testing and installation. Can you take me on board now?”
“Do you need to bring any of your people with you?”
“No. I’m only doing some testing.” She cocked her head. “And I can handle it on my own, Commander.”
The way she drawled her words told McCann that he must have sounded doubtful again.
“Glad to hear it. You have what you need?”
“I need to pick up a testing device at one of the shops. But it’s practically on our way.”
He looked up at the sky as they left the shop. The rain wasn’t stopping. She kept his pace with ease.
“What’s your work schedule?” he asked her.
“I have a crew of ten, with supervisor, ready to come aboard at 6 a.m.” She touched his arm, pointing to the door to a large building. “Let’s take a shortcut out of the rain.”
McCann followed her up a short flight of stairs past a door. The building was a maze of corridors and offices, but she led him through it without hesitation. He knew that the shipyard superintendent had offices a few floors above.
“What’s your plan for physically bringing the new system on board?”
“Bringing that crew on at six will give us time to break down the unit, move the malfunctioning components, and prep everything for the new installation. That takes a little bit of time. No one will be standing around twiddling his thumbs. When first shift gets rolling after seven, we’ll bring the new unit on.”
They walked out of the building onto a paved street. The light green corrugated steel walls of the Ways loomed ahead of them, gleaming from the rain and the floodlights that illuminated the company’s name high above.