She arrived at the little Georgetown bistro at eight o’clock sharp. There was Mush at the bar, looking sharp. His fashion choice was easy: he was in dress blues, a tailored uniform that was crisp and neat. Did he get a haircut and a beard trim? She loved the way he looked. When he saw her, he smiled the kind of smile Brooke hoped she’d see on his face every time they met.
“Agent Burrell, you look…stunning!”
“Oh, stop.”
“No, really!”
“No, I mean, ‘Oh, stop calling me Agent Burrell.’ It’s Brooke.”
“Brooke. I am glad we could see each other tonight.”
“Don’t you look all dashing in your dress blues.”
“Sorry, I came right from the Pentagon.”
“Oh.” Brooke was a little disappointed he hadn’t dressed that way for her.
“Believe me, when you walked through that door, I knew I should have gone back to my hotel and changed into better clothes, because you look fantastic, but I didn’t want to be late.”
“Good call,” the little voice in Brooke’s head said, slow down, “because I am starving.”
He had made a great choice of wine. Not too expensive, yet a label that had been getting a lot of buzz of late. Ordering from the menu, he asked the waiter to prepare the branzino a certain way for both of them. The waiter was impressed at the suggestion. Then this master and commander of the fourth largest nuclear power on earth, this captain of one hundred fifty or so souls on a ship of war, this man who was used to having his orders followed without pause or hesitation, did the unexpected and said, “If you think the chef wouldn’t mind.”
“I don’t think there will be a problem, monsieur.”
Brooke liked how he was able to slip into civilian mode. Not ordering, but asking, even though he was ordering dinner.
Mush was interested in where and how Brooke grew up. So Brooke did most of the talking during dinner. After he picked up the check, he looked at Brooke — really looked at her. She could see him taking in her hair, her chin, her ears, her lips, and then his eyes fell softly on hers. His mouth curled into a smile of satisfaction and contentment. “Wanna walk a little?”
As they walked the cozy streets of Georgetown, Mush spoke of his plans and ambitions. Brooke was surprised to learn that he wasn’t interested in the Admiralty. He liked the sea and the mission; he wanted to do it until he couldn’t anymore. Then retire. His passion for the job and his loyalty to duty made him even more attractive to Brooke. That surprised her. She thought she would have liked to hear that he wanted to settle down and explore the land side of life, but she wasn’t disappointed at all. They stopped on a corner waiting for “Don’t Walk” to change to “Walk.” Brooke felt him staring, as he had on the bridge of the Nebraska. She didn’t look at him but said, “You’re staring — again.”
“You look as beautiful tonight as on the bridge in the sunset.”
She turned to him. His eyes were mesmerizing. She softened her demeanor and wet her lips. He looked at her lips, tilted his commander captain’s hat back on his head, raised her chin gently with his hand, and kissed her. They kissed for a long time. People were walking around them. A car honked and they didn’t flinch. His arm came around her and he pulled her close; she arched into him and they both held on tight. Eventually they went from their first kiss to a hug. She loved the little sigh that came from deep inside him. They continued walking. They walked and talked for hours. Somehow they found themselves on the Fourteenth Avenue Bridge; they had walked right back to D.C. The sun was rising over the Potomac and they were leaning on the concrete railing looking down at the current sweeping under the bridge. They turned their heads and kissed once more. Mush went to pull her close by her arm but unintentionally grabbed her breast instead; he quickly moved his hand to her arm. Breaking the lip lock long enough to utter, “Sorry.”
She found his hand and placed it back on her breast. His touch was gentle but the way he caressed her made a little moan escape her throat as they embraced. That kiss made them both dizzy.
They found a little breakfast place in the Sofitel on Fifteenth, near the White House, that was just firing up the grill for the morning shift. They sat and ordered eggs.
The SCIAD network that Bill created was a super-charged intranet, superimposed across the entire Internet. He logged back onto the network just before the afternoon staff meeting and saw he had three responses. He assumed they were from the marine and ocean experts who were on the rings. They were the most likely to respond to Bill’s request for information on any studies or cases where whales attacked or were trained to attack ships.
He was intrigued by one response that struck him as odd. It was from a chemical engineer affiliated with Disney Imagineering, the company that dreams up the cybernetics and animatronics elements for Disney rides and attractions all around the world. Re-reading one particularly chilling part made Bill pick up the phone.
“Brooke, is your bag packed?”
Brooke hung up the phone. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have taken that call.”
“Gotta go?”
“Yes. It’s my boss.”
“Quarterback?”
“Yes. He wants me up in New York this morning. I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you.”
“And I don’t want to meet with the Naval Intelligence guys at nine. I want to go back to that bridge and kiss you all over again till the next sunrise.”
“We better get the check,” Brooke said as a way to uncouple her feelings for Mush from the job she had to complete.
At the curb outside the little breakfast place, Mush said, “I’ll flag you a cab.”
Brooke took one long last look at Mush. He held his white cap out and let out a whistle that nearly pierced her eardrums. As the cab neared, he took her by the arms and kissed her. “Let’s see each other the first chance either one of us gets.”
“How long will you be in D.C.?”
“Only today. I leave at five to go back out to Pearl to supervise the repairs.”
“Is that where you live?”
“For the foreseeable future, temporary change of station. Our boomer nest is in Bangor, Washington, but the Pentagon wants to flex a little muscle at the Chinese and North Koreans and nothing shows the bad guys you’re watching them like a Trident sub on their front porch. Maybe you can come to Hawaii?”
“Yes. I want to.” Reflexively she began smoothing his hair. “Be careful.”
“Me! You, you’re the secret agent here.” He reflexively caressed her bruised cheek, taking care not to actually touch the wounds. “I don’t want you to risk an eyelash on that beautiful face of yours or do anything to this incredible body until we see each other again. Promise?”
“Just keep those shoulders and arms ready to wrap around me when I see you, Big Red.”
They kissed one more time as the horn of the cab lightly beeped.
Conscription is mandatory in Switzerland for men and voluntary for women, so a large percentage of the population has military experience. The responsibility to serve is not easily avoided, due to the yearly training sessions and the fact that almost every home has a closet with an M-16 and a sealed box of ammunition somewhere nearby. The seal is checked on a random basis by agents of the government to make sure the weapon is only used in a national emergency, such as anybody coming after the world’s trillions in gold held in the famous Swiss banks.