He signaled for a steward, who came over and took his order. She watched Kent’s confidence and ease with envy. She felt anything but confident and at ease. Kent leaning back in his chair with a quick smile wasn’t helping.
“Everybody’s first day in the room is a bad day,” he said. “They set the bar high for a good reason — out at sea, an emergency is life and death — no time outs, no redo, no second chances. By the end of the week you’ll be ready to take on any challenge. Just let that quiet inner strength show through.”
She looked down and scoffed. “How would you know anything about what’s inside me?”
He chuckled, and glanced down as his grin spread across his face. He looked up. “You don’t remember me,” he said. “No reason you should, really. But I remember you.”
She looked up, feeling bewildered. He must have read the look on her face.
“I was two years ahead of you at Annapolis — graduated in the top third of my class — nothing you should have noticed. But you — you, people noticed.”
She nodded. “A woman in a man’s world.”
He laughed. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?” she asked.
He shook his head. “It wasn’t about being a woman. The navy’s gotten used to women going through their hallowed halls.”
The steward arrived with their meals, placed the dishes, filled the coffee cups and asked if there was anything else. There wasn’t. She took a sip of coffee, waiting for him to continue. He shook out the napkin and placed it on his lap.
“Where was I?” he asked.
“Annapolis,” she said.
“Honestly, you were the most amazing person to hit Annapolis in years — academics, physical training, discipline, and honor — the entire faculty was talking about you. It was like you were born to be there.”
She shook her head. “Those four years were the hardest, most terrifying years of my life.”
He smiled again. “Where in your class did you graduate?”
“Second,” she replied.
He looked up at the ceiling and nodded. “They couldn’t bring themselves to let you be first. As far as the navy has come — they just couldn’t do it.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“Your inner strength, your courage — you inspired other people. You inspired me. I was struggling in the bottom half of my class. I didn’t think I could finish. Then I heard about Cadet Tiffany Grimes. I watched how you dug for the very last bit of strength in physical training, the last remaining effort in academics. I saw how your determination and courage stood, like an immovable force, against all challenges. Watching you gave me the strength to push myself harder, further, and beyond what I thought I could do. I spent my last year following your example. I graduated in the top third of my class because of you.”
She was stunned by his revelation. None of her instructors at Annapolis had said anything like this to her. Yes, they were all proud of what she accomplished, but it was as if they had expected her to do well. She was too focused on the struggle to see the rest of it.
He sliced into his steak and started eating as she sat there trying to collect her thoughts. She didn’t know if she could eat after that or not. She tried some of the scalloped potatoes. Maybe she was hungry after all.
“So where’d you transfer in from?” she asked.
“The Connecticut, I was the torpedo room officer for two years. Damage Control officer on the Massachusetts got promoted to Lieutenant Commander and moved to Executive Officer on a Virginia class sub. I moved into his slot.”
“Family?” she asked.
“Army brat, not married, no brothers or sisters. You?”
“My dad’s a disabled Marine Corp Major, oldest brother, James, is a Major in the Marines now, middle brother, Howard’s a Captain in the army. Danny is the youngest brother. He didn’t go into the military. He’s a police detective in the Staunton Police Department.”
He stopped eating and looked at her. “All officers? No wonder you were born to go to Annapolis. It runs in the family. Power struggles at home?”
“Hell no,” she said. “Mama’s in charge at home. Nobody even questions that.”
He pointed a fork at her. “Great role model for you.” He took another bite of steak. “Run your torpedo room like your mom runs the family and you’re home free.”
“You think so?”
“Know so. Now eat your dinner; it’s getting cold.”
She laughed out loud. “Now you sound like my mother.”
“I probably do, I learned it from you at Annapolis, so eat.”
She smiled and dug into her meal. He made her feel so much better about her failure in the room and how she had felt so overwhelmed. It felt good to have a friend.
CHAPTER 17
Willa sat at the desk in her office with her head lowered, face covered with her hands.
“This is horrible,” she said as she lowered her hands. “I can’t believe that will happen to Dolphin Beach.”
“It will happen,” Jason replied. “It’s just a matter of time.”
“I’ve lived here all of my life,” she said. “All I’ve ever known is Dolphin Beach. I can’t even imagine it not being here.”
“I know you feel overwhelmed,” Jason said. “That’s understandable. Everyone is when faced with the destructive force of a 9.0 Magnitude earthquake, let alone the tsunami that would certainly follow. It makes you feel helpless,” Jason said softly. “That’s why I suggested that you do a practice run for the evacuation. Doing something, even something simple, helps people reclaim some confidence in the face of overwhelming events.”
“Not everyone believes this earthquake and tsunami is going to happen,” she said.
“I know,” Jason replied. “The people of Pompeii didn’t believe the volcano would erupt either. Their belief didn’t change the eventual outcome. They still died a horrible death, simply because they made no preparations for survival and evacuation. The practice run is essential for people to survive. You feel overwhelmed now; think of what people are going to be feeling when it actually happens. People won’t be able to think, they will revert back to what they have done before. That’s why the practice run is so critical. Once they go through the motions of the practice run, they will follow what they have done before, and most of the people of Dolphin Beach will survive.”
“I hear what you’re saying,” Willa said. “You’re being practical, and I appreciate that, but this thing is also political. You already met Frank. He will oppose a practice run. Not everyone will participate.”
“Not everyone has to participate,” Jason replied. “Look, there’s a key factor operating here that most people don’t want to hear. The largest portion of the human brain is the mammalian brain. It functions on a herd mentality. Forgive the expression, but most people are a lot like sheep. In cases like a disaster of this magnitude, very few people will be able to think, but they will follow. If you get 51 % of the people to participate in the practice run, when the time comes the remaining 49 % will follow the majority without thinking.”
“Fifty one percent?” Willa questioned.
“Yep,” Jason replied. “That’s all it will take. If you can get 51 % of the people of Dolphin Beach to participate in the practice evacuation, it will work. You will save the people of Dolphin Beach.”
Willa tapped her fingers on her desk nervously as she thought, her eyes unfocused as her mind imagined the practice run and how many people would actually take part. “It might work.”
“It will work,” Jason confirmed. “We need to make it a fun event. We can have traffic cones placed where debris fields will be. Some areas will be taped off where dead ends will form. We can have a picnic at the safety place — reward everyone who participates.”