“You’ve got that look.”
For a moment Delaware didn’t seem to hear her, so deep was his concentration. Julia Ortiz followed his gaze out to the western horizon, which was now no more than a strip of bright blue, left behind by a dull sunset. It was in that direction that her Marines were about to sail, disguised as an independent salvage operation.
In short order they would be “captured” by a Song patrol, and conveyed back to Himalaya into Song Da Li’s custody. She would follow very soon, in a separate vessel. But she’d wanted to check on her captain first. The NCOM couldn’t find him, which she knew meant he was on the flight deck where it was non-operational. He liked to come out here to think.
“Sorry,” he said abruptly, realizing she had been waiting for him to speak. “I was far away.”
“Now’s the time to tell me if you’ve got any last minute concerns,” Ortiz reminded him.
He tilted his head back, dark skin catching the thin moonlight, his sharp angles softening without the strong contrast. His green eyes looked almost colourless to her as he turned them on her, a question in his expression that she knew had nothing to do with their operation. He had no idea how young he was, in spite of his premature greys.
“Julia,” he said abruptly, then asked the question he’d been holding back. “Am I insane?”
“Maybe. Tell me your mind.”
He pushed his close cropped hair back with one hand and closed his eyes. “We’ve got Vikram. That was the primary objective, to capture him alive, hold him, prevent him from doing more harm. Can I really justify committing our people to this fight?”
“Hudson thought it was justified,” she pointed out.
“There is a lot he didn’t know.”
“Such as?”
Delaware glanced back towards the bridge tower. “That Vikram would have him killed. I won’t lie, having him on board this ship makes me uneasy.”
“I can only assume Rachel isn’t too happy about it either.”
He sighed. “It’s painful for her no matter what. And I know she feels she’s responsible for instigating this conflict. She doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt on her behalf.”
“Well,” Ortiz said dryly. “That’s a very noble perspective, but all of us decided on this offensive. We agreed that Sergei Vetrov needs to be removed, that his army should be dismantled.”
“Doesn’t stop it being personal.”
“There’s no such thing as an impersonal war,” she said, and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “We could leave, turn our backs, see to our own and live the way we’ve been living for the past three years, but there’s a problem with that.”
“Tell me.”
“We’ve seen,” she said firmly. “We know. If we take it on principle that those are our fellow human beings, that their lives are of value, then this is the most important war that will have ever been fought. The stakes couldn’t be higher. And you know you won’t turn your back on the call, because you are a good man, Delaware.”
He frowned down at the tarmac for a moment before raising his head again to look at her. “I can’t hold it against anyone else for wanting to live in peace. Asking people to sacrifice themselves for a cause sounds good on paper, in history books, but — “
“That’s command,” she reminded him. “No one thinks they can do better than you. You haven’t lied to them, or pressured them. And if we turned around and left now, decided to save ourselves and live comfortably, then Vikram was right about us.”
“It just raises uncomfortable philosophical questions. Hudson was always better at finding his truth.” Delaware said bitterly.
“You’ll find it, Captain,” she said with a wry smile, then turned to go make herself ready for her departure.
“Major, before you go, I have one more question for you. I’ve been meaning to ask for a while.”
“Better make it quick, young man.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked critically at her. “Why don’t you promote yourself? You’re chief Marine, a four star general by any sane metric. You’re next in line for the command of this ship. So why take the humble?”
Ortiz shrugged. “I think once we get into the habit of self-styling and pinning extra pieces of metal to our tits, we’re getting into ego territory. It’s bad for leadership.”
He took a deep breath. “I still ask myself how I ended up here, if it’s really for the best. A superior committing suicide is no way to move up the chain of command.”
She looked up into his face, the stern mask that tried to obscure his pain and confusion. “You are, and always were the man for the job.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you agreed to do it,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “You could’ve said no. It’s not like your pay grade was in hazard. But you stepped up. Take comfort in that.”
She turned and started for the hangar deck.
“Major,” he called after her.
She glanced over her shoulder. “Yes?”
His expression was resolute, but there was a hint of a smile in his eyes. “Good hunting.”
She saluted. He saluted back. Then she made her way towards the stairs, and went to go join her unit.