Battleship

USS REAGAN

Seated behind his desk with a phone to his ear—which was where he felt like it’d been forever—Admiral Shane was starting to have trouble recalling a time when he didn’t think he was losing his mind.

I’ve had meals with this man. Hell, I’ve golfed with this man. He seemed sane and reasonable all those times. When did he turn into such a flaming asshole? Guess it takes an alien invasion to bring out one’s true character.

As Shane’s aide, Ensign Chavez, came in with a cup of coffee, Shane tried a different approach. “I’m asking you to reconsider, Mr. Secretary…”

“And I’m asking you,” came back the Secretary of Defense’s voice over the phone, “to keep following orders, something I’d think I shouldn’t have to ask. Your orders were to continue trying to find a way through that water obstruction they’ve tossed up.”

“We’ve already lost two planes and a fully manned attack sub trying to do just that—”

“And we’re willing to lose more if we must.”

Shane’s voice was low and flat, an unmistakable tone of screw you in his response that not only could he not hide, but he wasn’t even trying to. “Are we.”

There was a pause on the other end. Message sent. Message received. Message rejected. “Just scramble the jets, Admiral,” said the Secretary in a way that drew the divide between them in stark relief. “Circle that barrier. Find a hole in it. We need to get in there—”

“We need to get in there?” Calm. Stay calm. He’s not one of us, he can’t understand, he answers to the President, don’t say what you’re thinking. His mind split down the middle, one side listening to the very solid advice being presented by the other side. After listening, the other half of his mind completely ignored the first, and Shane said what he was thinking. “While you sit six thousand miles away, I’m on the enemy front line, with four hundred of my men and my only daughter trapped inside that dome! I am far more aware than you of the need to get inside there, but wasting lives will not help.” He paused, and heard the Secretary inhaling on the other end, about to speak, but the admiral steamrolled right over him. “You want me to send up another plane? I’ll do it the second you come up here and sit your ass in the copilot seat!”

He slammed down the phone, killing the uplink. Waves of anger radiated from him, and it was that moment he realized that Chavez was still standing there, waiting to hand him the coffee. In a fit of uncontrolled rage, he snatched the mug from Chavez’s hand and threw it with all his strength. It shattered against the wall.

Chavez stared at the mess in shock. Shane looked directly at him, his eyes like twin thunderstorms. Chavez gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I… I’ll get you another cup.”

He got out of there as quickly as he could.