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Authors: Lorhainne Eckhart
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be counting on your help. You know we have to stick together. Women in the Navy have to remain united or we’ll never get ahead, and you know we’ll continue to get passed over for promotion here under Captain Hamilton’s command,” Gail said.
Mary-Jo held up both hands, and Gail wondered if she was going to grab her and shake her, but instead she took a step back and jabbed a finger in Gail’s face. “You can just stop right there, girl. I’m not interested in any dirty business or getting involved in any scheme of yours to hurt the captain. You can count me out. I had enough of these games with my sister back home. I’m certainly not gonna stoop to doin’ somethin’ that’s gonna start trouble, especially when it’s not based on any fact.” Mary-Jo stared with a hard look at each one of the women in the room—a look that had Gail trembling under her skin. Then she almost growled at Gail before shaking her head and turning without another word and walking into the head.
Gail was breathing hard, pressed against the bunk as she listed to the squeak of the faucet and the water spilling through the pipes. Then the faucet squeaked off. A moment later, Mary-Jo returned to the bunkroom. She didn’t look any calmer.
“Humph. You just remember what I said, and if I was you, Miss Gail, I would drop it and start doin’ the job you’re supposed to do and keep your nose out of the captain’s business.”
The angrier Mary-Jo got, the more pronounced her southern accent became. It wasn’t something Gail had seen often, but she had heard it once or twice whenever some young sailor had made a backhanded comment. Mary-Jo swept her gaze past each of them, clenching her fists, and suddenly smacked Gail on the back of the head. “What’s wrong with you, trying to cause trouble? And what’s wrong with you girls, sittin’ here listening to this? Shame on you.” She gave each of them a final dark glare before heading for the door of the bunkroom. “If you even think about causing trouble and I hear about it, I’ll go straight to the cap’n. I won’t stand by and take it, and I won’t do it sneaky like the coward you are. I will be in your face and wipe the floor with you.” She leaned in to Gail’s face, and for a moment Gail thought she’d spit on her, but then she turned and left the bunkroom.
The remaining women gazed at each other before one of them said, “She’s right. Just let it go.”
But no, there was something inside Gail that hated being humiliated or having one of her ideas squashed by some darky piece of trash. The way the other women were turning away from her now, after she knew she’d almost convinced them—no, she’d find a way. She had to. After all, Captain Eric Hamilton had pissed off the wrong woman and needed to be taught a lesson. Instead of sulking away, she plopped into one of the chairs by the TV, earning a pitying glance from Jennifer, who had her long brown hair pinned up. She absolutely loathed that feeling, when someone turned the tables on her, and at this moment she hated all of them for making her feel this low.
Chapter Eight
Eric sat behind his big desk, considering the officers in the room. Joe was still sitting in the chair by the sofa, where they had just held their daily department head meeting. The meetings were, as a rule, held in the morning, but with the sudden arrival of Abby and the ensuing commotion, they’d rescheduled it to 1900. He acknowledged each officer as they passed by his desk. “Captain,” each said before leaving. Eric downed the last of his bitter coffee in one gulp and reread the orders clutched in his hand: Undetermined extension of existing orders to remain in the Persian Gulf, conducting operations in support of multinational forces in Iraq and maritime security operations in the Gulf in order to set conditions for security and stability in the region.
“Stability in the region, that really sums everything up,” Eric said. He didn’t
Mary-Jo held up both hands, and Gail wondered if she was going to grab her and shake her, but instead she took a step back and jabbed a finger in Gail’s face. “You can just stop right there, girl. I’m not interested in any dirty business or getting involved in any scheme of yours to hurt the captain. You can count me out. I had enough of these games with my sister back home. I’m certainly not gonna stoop to doin’ somethin’ that’s gonna start trouble, especially when it’s not based on any fact.” Mary-Jo stared with a hard look at each one of the women in the room—a look that had Gail trembling under her skin. Then she almost growled at Gail before shaking her head and turning without another word and walking into the head.
Gail was breathing hard, pressed against the bunk as she listed to the squeak of the faucet and the water spilling through the pipes. Then the faucet squeaked off. A moment later, Mary-Jo returned to the bunkroom. She didn’t look any calmer.
“Humph. You just remember what I said, and if I was you, Miss Gail, I would drop it and start doin’ the job you’re supposed to do and keep your nose out of the captain’s business.”
The angrier Mary-Jo got, the more pronounced her southern accent became. It wasn’t something Gail had seen often, but she had heard it once or twice whenever some young sailor had made a backhanded comment. Mary-Jo swept her gaze past each of them, clenching her fists, and suddenly smacked Gail on the back of the head. “What’s wrong with you, trying to cause trouble? And what’s wrong with you girls, sittin’ here listening to this? Shame on you.” She gave each of them a final dark glare before heading for the door of the bunkroom. “If you even think about causing trouble and I hear about it, I’ll go straight to the cap’n. I won’t stand by and take it, and I won’t do it sneaky like the coward you are. I will be in your face and wipe the floor with you.” She leaned in to Gail’s face, and for a moment Gail thought she’d spit on her, but then she turned and left the bunkroom.
The remaining women gazed at each other before one of them said, “She’s right. Just let it go.”
But no, there was something inside Gail that hated being humiliated or having one of her ideas squashed by some darky piece of trash. The way the other women were turning away from her now, after she knew she’d almost convinced them—no, she’d find a way. She had to. After all, Captain Eric Hamilton had pissed off the wrong woman and needed to be taught a lesson. Instead of sulking away, she plopped into one of the chairs by the TV, earning a pitying glance from Jennifer, who had her long brown hair pinned up. She absolutely loathed that feeling, when someone turned the tables on her, and at this moment she hated all of them for making her feel this low.
Chapter Eight
Eric sat behind his big desk, considering the officers in the room. Joe was still sitting in the chair by the sofa, where they had just held their daily department head meeting. The meetings were, as a rule, held in the morning, but with the sudden arrival of Abby and the ensuing commotion, they’d rescheduled it to 1900. He acknowledged each officer as they passed by his desk. “Captain,” each said before leaving. Eric downed the last of his bitter coffee in one gulp and reread the orders clutched in his hand: Undetermined extension of existing orders to remain in the Persian Gulf, conducting operations in support of multinational forces in Iraq and maritime security operations in the Gulf in order to set conditions for security and stability in the region.
“Stability in the region, that really sums everything up,” Eric said. He didn’t
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