“Can we see him?”
“He’s been under sedation, but sure. Why not?”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Diane said.
“My pleasure, Commander. Follow me.”
McNair led them through a back hallway to the staff elevator. They rode to the fourth floor.
“Follow me,” McNair said.
They walked past the nurses’ station to a hospital room door that was cracked open. Two voices having a slightly heated discussion poured out. One, female with a Singaporean accent. The other, Diane recognized with relief.
“But, Commander, you have not been released by your doctor,” the female voice said.
“Ma’am, I’m telling you, I’m fine. I’ve got work to do,” the male voice with a slight Southern accent retorted. “I can’t be stuffed up in here with a war going on out there. Pass me my shirt, please.”
Diane traded glances with Dr. McNair and Ambassador Griffith.
“Stay here a minute.” Dr. McNair stepped into the hospital room. He closed the door, but voices still poured under the door.
“What’s the problem, Commander?” Dr. McNair said.
“Doctor, I appreciate what you’ve done”-cough…cough-“but we’ve undergone attacks on two tankers and the Rasa Sentosa. All this appears to have been coordinated and”-cough…cough-“I work for Ambassador Griffith, and he’s going to want me on this”-cough…cough-“ASAP…”
Diane winced. The coughing was bad.
“Oh, really? Well, Ambassador Griffith can order you to stay in bed.”
“That’s my cue.” The ambassador looked at Diane and winked. “Stay here.” Griffith stepped through the door and into the hospital room.
“Mr. Ambassador!” A surprised tone came from the Southern voice.
“What’s this I hear about my naval attaché arguing with the nurses?”
“Sir, I”…cough, cough…“I’ve got to get back to the Rasa Sentosa.”
“What’s the hurry, Commander?”
Cough…“To be honest, Mr. Ambassador, I’m afraid Lieutenant Commander Colcernian may be out there. I’m worried about her, sir.”
“We’re trying to find her, Zack. In fact, I’ve got someone with me who has information that might help locate her.”
“Really?”
Diane recognized her cue. She pushed the door open slightly.
The Carolina blue T-shirt hugged Zack’s trim torso, and his navy blue swim shorts revealed a rich tan on his legs. That slight cleft was still in his chin, and a small dash of gray had set into his sideburns. She melted when his green eyes met hers.
“Thank God!” He threw his arms open and jumped off the bed. Their embrace would not be denied by any doctor or ambassador.
Their lips met.
Diane traced the bulge of his muscled biceps. The kiss…it was nuclear…then suddenly shortened when he pulled away to cough again.
“Commander, please. Back to bed,” Dr. McNair said.
“That’s an order, Zack,” Ambassador Griffith followed.
“Yes, sir.” He backpedaled and plopped onto the hospital bed, but he did not relinquish Diane’s hand.
“Feeling better now, Zack?” The doctor smiled.
“What?”
“Do you feel better?”
“Oh, yes, sir.” His eyes wouldn’t relinquish their gaze on hers. Nor would his smile fade. “Just what the doctor ordered.”
“Good.” Dr. McNair looked at the nurse. “Let’s get some O2 in him, please.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Zack,” McNair said, “we’re holding you another day as a precaution against pneumonia. We’ll run tests. You should be good to go soon. Meantime, I’ll leave the three of you to visit for a while.”
“Thanks, Doc,” he said.
McNair stepped out of the room.
“Hold your head still, Commander,” said the small-framed Singaporean nurse. “The oxygen will make you feel better.”
“Sure.”
She strapped a small, clear oxygen tube to a mask and strapped it on his face. “If you’ll cooperate with us, Commander, maybe the doctor will release you soon.”
“Thanks, Nurse.”
The nurse smiled and stepped out of the room.
“So what happened?” His voice was muffled by the mask, but still audible. “You phoned from the lobby, and then…”
“I was standing in the lobby, but as soon as you told me you were by the pool, I couldn’t wait to see you, so I rushed outside. The bomb went off maybe five seconds after I stepped outside. We must’ve missed each other in the chaos.”
“Thank God you’re alive.” Zack squeezed her hand. “I hoped we could spend more time together before you shipped to the States. But now…”
Ambassador Griffith broke into a smile. “Zack,” he said, “Diane has some news for you.”
“News?” He raised a curious eyebrow. “Come on, tell me. I can’t stand surprises.” Cough.
“Well…” She exchanged glances with the ambassador. “It turns out that you’re not the only navy JAG officer to be appointed as a naval attaché.”
“Let me guess. I’ve been fired and the ambassador is hiring you?”
“How’d you guess?” she chuckled.
“Not hard. You’re a ton prettier than me.”
“You’re right about that, Zack,” the ambassador laughed. “But you’re not getting off the hook with me that easy. Actually, my pal Ambassador Martin Stacks over in Indonesia just lost his attaché. I knew the two of you might not object to being just an hour away from each other by plane, so I recommended Diane for the job. And what do you know?”
“Really?” Zack smiled through a couple of wheezes. “Congratulations! So how far is that from here?”
The ambassador answered, “Well, Commander, that’s 561 miles by the flight of the crow, or more to the point, by the flight of the C-130.”
Zack released her hand, but not his smile. “So when do you start your new job?”
“In about fifteen minutes. We just got word of an attempted attack against the tanker SeaRiver Baytown. USS Reuben James took out the suicide boat, and they found at least two Indonesians on board. Reuben James is bringing the bodies into port here in Singapore. I’m going down to meet the ship.”
His smile vanished. “I’m going with you.”
“Later, Commander,” the ambassador said. “I’ll make sure Commander Colcernian apprises you of everything.”
“Aye, sir.” His voice deflated.
Diane leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. “See ya soon, Zack.”
Changi Naval Base
Singapore
2:45 p.m.
The new Changi Naval Base, home port of the Singaporean navy, was a panoramic splash of red-and-white, as the stars and crescent moon that graced the red-and-white, broad-striped flag of the tiny republic fluttered from every ship moored in the piers, from every building facing the piers, and from flagpoles on the piers themselves.
There was one exception.
The 450-foot gray warship, which only minutes ago inched slowly alongside Pier One, flew off her fantail the red, white, and blue of the Stars and Stripes of the United States of America.
At the end of Pier One, Lieutenant Commander Diane Colcernian, in the summer white uniform of a US Navy JAG officer, stood next to a Singaporean naval officer and watched as Singaporean sailors standing on the pier tossed lines back and forth with sailors on the American warship.
Moments later, the ship’s crewmen erected a portable catwalk between the ship and the pier, then unfolded a white-and-blue banner. The banner stretched horizontally along the catwalk and proclaimed in blue lettering: USS Reuben James FFG-57.
“Follow me,” Diane told her Singaporean naval escort. They stepped through the whipping breeze onto the catwalk, quickly marched over the water, and crossed the threshold onto the ship’s quarterdeck.
Adhering to naval tradition, Diane turned sharply to her left and saluted the national colors flying off the stern, then saluted the officer of the deck.