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Monday, June 20, 2011

From "Mission Critical - A Cold War Novel" by Jamie Fredric

Mission Critical - A Cold War Novel
Commander Grant Stevens, Navy SEAL, aboard the carrier USS JOHN PRESTON:

He leaned against the edge of the port bulkhead, staring out at the ink-colored Sea of Japan.  All was quiet except for the sound of the carrier's screws, agitating the water into a white, foaming frenzy, leaving a distinct, trailing wake.  He glanced overhead with the cold wind whipping around him, bringing with it a hint of high octane jet fuel.  These were the same smells, the same quiet, the same darkness, reminding him of his Bolivian mission as he stood on the helo pad with his team, waiting for the helo to crank up.  All these things were part of his life.  But tonight it wasn't the cold that sent a chill through his body.

His head ached.  The throbbing wouldn't go away and he tried to revert to mental concentration by invoking his karate discipline by blotting the pain from his mind.  He turned and went back into the darkness, walking toward the forward bulkhead.  Sitting down heavily, he pressed his back against the bulkhead, wedging himself in behind the towing winch, then he pulled his knees in toward his chest.  Hidden behind the intensity of his eyes was a mental imagery of a game plan he was attempting to piece together, a means for stopping the Russians.

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