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course, exactly what Hopper wanted to hear. Stone didn’t know about Hopper’s plan to approach his potential father-in-law today. Still:
Stone ordered me to stay away from the admiral
. He’s the ranking officer. I can’t disobey a direct order. Sorry, babe, it’ll have to wait.
Sounds like a plan. A crap plan, but a plan
.
    Oblivious, or perhaps simply indifferent, to the turmoil that Hopper was going through, Shane said, “We have with us today veterans, some going back to World War II. Examples of the finest men to have ever served in any Navy.” Shane gestured to the vets, and applause rippled through the audience. Hopper clapped his hands purely as a response to everyone else; he wasn’t consciously thinking about it. Instead he was turning around to see if Sam had maybe, perhaps, been making out with some other officer, having completely forgotten about Hopper and deciding that she could do better. That would get him off the hook. But no, there she was, off to the side, looking at him with that same mixture of confidence and adoration. It was the way he’d dreamed of her looking at him when he’d first seen her at the bar.
    “And now,” Shane was saying, “as we prepare to embark on this outstanding exercise of global cooperation and competition, I would like the commanding officers of every surface warfare ship involved in this year’s game to come to the stage.”
    Stone stood up in response to the summons, patting his brother on the shoulder as he did so. “Stay out of trouble while I’m gone,” he said. It had become a running joke, one of those things that wasn’t funny to anyone outside of the family. It provided comfort and continuity to Hopper, or it irritated the hell out of him, depending on how he felt at any given moment. This was one of those occasions when he didn’t think about it at all, since he was so distracted by the emotions roiling within him.
    Stone and the other commanding officers lined up behindthe admiral. As they did so, a huge cake in the shape of the
Missouri
was wheeled up in front of them. Hopper saw it being brought forward and didn’t feel the least bit interested in eating any of it. That alone was more than enough to tell him he was off his game, if he hadn’t known already.
    Admiral Shane turned and offered a rare smile to Hopper’s brother. “A special acknowledgment to American Stone Hopper, who—along with his outstanding crew and ship, the USS
Sampson
—had the highest overall rating last year and will be looking to repeat that terrific performance this year.”
    Hopper felt momentary chagrin, as he frequently did whenever he heard the name of Stone’s ship. He remembered as if it were yesterday the first time he’d seen the name emblazoned on the side of the
Arleigh Burke
–class destroyer and airily informed his brother that some idiot had misspelled the name “Samson.” Stone had then patiently, and with an air of condescension that put Hopper’s teeth on edge, informed him that the vessel was named after Rear Admiral William T. Sampson and not the biblical judge and strong man.
    Admiral Shane handed Stone a saber. Tragically it was a regular sword rather than a Jedi light sabre. It was a bit more weather-beaten than Navy swords typically were since it was reserved for ceremonies such as this, and cutting cakes weren’t exactly good for the blade. Yet Stone displayed great care as he took it from the admiral with a small bow, and then turned to face the audience.
    “Welcome everybody,” said Stone. “It’s great to see you here. Your ships look outstanding and your men look ready. Good luck to you all, be safe, fight hard.”
    He nodded once more as if affirming everything he’d just said and then sliced into the cake. The moment he did, the band launched into a stirring rendition of “Anchors Aweigh.” This disappointed Hopper, who was ofthe firm opinion that once,
just once
, the band should play the Village People’s “In the