Captain Matthew Page said, “I don’t want copies of Nimitz’s transcript of the satellite messages. It takes an extra halfhour for them to relay the messages to us and for Comm to type them out nice and pretty. Half of Asia could get blown up in a half-hour. We’ve got our own FLEETS AT terminal; I want copies of the transmissions from that.” Cogley nodded and turned but Page grabbed his arm. “Cogley, give me those messages you have. It’s better than nothing. Tell Comm I want updates every half-hour.” Cogley scurried away and returned a few moments later to fill Page’s coffee cup. “Thanks. Now tell Comm to start earning their salaries or I’ll keel-haul them.” Cogley disappeared. Page took a sip of coffee, looked skyward. “See that, Ann?” he said, half-aloud. “I call him other things besides ‘Dammit Cogley.’” It was the first time he had thought of his daughter since leaving Oakland, and the realization hurt him.
What do You think about Brown, Dale - Independent 01?
