The Red Admiral Read online

  My cheeks felt warm under her gaze. I rose. "Well, Commander, are you ready to meet your new staff?"

  "A bit nervous, but yes," she replied with an impish grin. "I'll bet the feeling is mutual."

  "I selected them from the candidates each NIA station sent me. I asked for candidates who were interested in moving to Eastar, which means the candidates weren't necessarily the best person from each station. My selections considered time-in-grade but also other factors in the individuals’ last three performance reports. I selected three junior lieutenant commanders." Who are all around my age, I mused. In fact, Damon was two years older. "They need the experience of managing a small section, which this assignment will give them, but they look promising."

  "If you don't mind me asking, ma'am, why did you select me?"

  "Because you didn't want the position as an opportunity to get promoted but rather to chase bad guys," I said, realizing I had passed over a couple because I sensed they thought Eastar a stepping stone to advance their careers. That wasn't a negative in itself, but I wanted someone who loved the work more than the prestige.

  "Thank you, ma'am. I'm hoping you can dig up some more bad guys for us to chase." Her bright blue eyes danced with excitement.

  "Personally, I hope we've demonstrated that the UAS is not a safe place for criminal activities. For the past two years, my life has been a little too exciting."

  * * *

  The first aide-de-camp candidate to enter was a junior grade lieutenant with enough time-in-grade to be eligible for lieutenant rank. He had red hair, a round pale face, and looked younger than his twenty-five years. He was average height and soft-looking, although not overweight.

  "J. G. Anders reporting as requested," he said in a nervous, cracking voice. After I returned his salute and his eyes settled on me, they went wide like saucers. I couldn't blame him. He was only a few years younger than me, and I didn't look older than my age.

  "Have a seat, Anders," I said. After he did, I continued. "Why do you want to be an aide-de-camp?"

  "My father is a retired navy lieutenant commander. He said it was the best way to get to know the right people," Anders said, unable to take his eyes off me.

  "Why me?" I asked, curious in his reasoning although I already knew I wasn't interested in him after hearing his reason for applying.

  "My father said you must be well-connected because you are the youngest admiral in the navy." He blushed, indicating his father must have insinuated more, which he was smart to omit. I let him tell me a bit about his background—navy brat, attended college with average grades, accepted into the navy as an ensign, and received average reviews at an administrative position with Naval Personnel.

  The next candidate was a tall, athletic-looking man with a stern, angular face and brown hair cut close to his head. I concluded he was into sports and the ladies, judging by his smooth, good-looking features, sparkling eyes, and the cocky way he entered the room. He was twenty-six, and like Anders, had received average reviews.

  "Ma'am, J. G. Summers reporting as ordered," he said loudly as he held his salute.

  "At ease and have a seat," I said, waving to the chair in front of my desk. He frowned slightly as he scanned me while sitting. "Why do you want to be an aide-de-camp, Summers?"

  "I thought it would be a good way to finish my naval obligation," he said. With a little probing, I found that the navy had funded his education in turn for a six-year commitment. Judging from our conversation he liked sports and women but not work.

  The third candidate was, to my surprise, a full lieutenant and several months older than me. He was tall, had an oval-shaped face with wavy, dark brown hair cut just above the ears, and he was clean shaven—overall a good-looking man.

  "Ma'am, Lieutenant Banner reporting as requested," he said, just loud enough to be heard.

  "At ease and have a seat," I said after returning his salute. He gave me a quick appraising look as he sat and an unconscious nod to some question he or someone else had.

  "Why do you want to be an aide-de-camp, Banner?" I asked. I had thought that was a simple question, but the answers I was getting weren't what I had been expecting and I wasn't impressed.

  "I want to be your aide-de-camp, Admiral Paulus. I've researched your career and I think I can learn a lot from you. It's a diversion from what I want to do, but I think it will benefit me in the long run."

  "And what is it you want to do, Banner?" I asked. This is what I had expected—sort of—a goal of some kind.

  "I had originally thought cruiser duty, but I'm hoping a few years with you will help me make a final decision. I had heard you enjoyed cruiser duty but your…krait," he nodded to my shoulder where Red lay watching or maybe evaluating Banner, "makes that impossible."

  "That was true initially, but my experiences have caused me to change my mind. I've enjoyed my time on cruisers but wouldn't want to be crew if I could."

  "Because of your promotion?" he asked, looking interested.

  "No. I don't care about rank. I would not like the responsibility for so many lives. A captain makes decisions that impact the lives of hundreds and indirectly thousands more. No, I'm content chasing bad people, which I hope has a positive impact," I said, knowing I was content in the NIA. "Wouldn't you be better off as an aide to someone older and with more naval experience?"

  "I don't think so," he said, giving me an assuring smile indicating this wasn't a whim but a thoughtful decision. "He or she would have lots of experience, but you can't teach someone experience. I don't think there are any officers under full admiral who have your achievements." He pointed to my ribbons.

  "Many of those are from being in the right place at the wrong time," I said, wondering what he hoped to gain from exposure to me.

  "I suspect those encounters resulted from careful decisions and the actions you took." He shrugged. "Right or wrong, I believe serving you would benefit me."

  "All right, Banner, the job is yours if you want it…but understand I don't know what an aide-de-camp is supposed to do or why I need one. You and I will have to determine how we can mutually benefit from the arrangement."

  "Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

  I tapped on my tablet's icon for Master Chief Stamm, and seconds later he was in the room.

  "Master Chief, this is Lieutenant Banner. He has agreed to be my aide-de-camp. He appears to know why he wants the position, which is good, but I don't know what an aide is supposed to do."

  "Congratulations, Lieutenant Banner. You made a good choice." Stamm said looking pleased. "The position is a perk and a status symbol accorded to flag rank. Basically, aides are available to fetch and carry, and some admirals use them that way. But the decision is yours. He serves at your will, as do I." He smiled and gave a small head bob.

  "Master Chief, why don't you take Lieutenant Banner—" I began but Banner interrupted.

  "David…or just Dave," he said, then looked a bit sheepish.

  "Take David and get him settled. I understand there is an area with desks for the aides, and he'll need a badge… Sorry, Master Chief. You know better than me what he'll need and should and shouldn't do. I will contemplate life after being the Eastar NIA chief." I waved them off. Banner braced to attention, saluted, and left with Stamm, smiling.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Star System: Eastar - Getting adjusted

  "This is ridiculous," I said as Banner set a cup of my coffee-and-half-milk drink down next to me and went to sit next to Stamm in one of the chairs against the wall. Damon sat to my right at the conference room table. "I have fifteen NIA chiefs reporting to me and you're the only one who bothered to attend."

  Damon laughed, and her hair seem to join in as it danced to her head's movement. "Shameful," she said, her eyes bright with amusement.

  I sobered. "How are you settling in, Damon?" I asked, wondering how she and her new staff were adjusting.

  "Everything is new, so each day is busy and exciting. But I like your choices for section chiefs
. Lieutenant Commander Abbott has a background in computers and has developed a software program that shows what each of his reports is working on and their current status. They update their status daily. He's given the program to Lieutenant Commanders Tucker and Cook, giving each access to the other's projects. I like their attitudes. They are competitive, but it appears good-natured." She went on to explain their projects, which were mostly petty robberies. "Nothing exciting. I've been hoping you'd discover something interesting, ma'am."

  "How can I when my reports don't attend my staff meetings?" I asked in mock frustration. In truth, I felt their absence was a potential problem.

  * * *

  "How did you like cruiser duty?" I asked Banner as he delivered me my morning cup of coffee.

  "I spent two years on the UAS Cruiser Scylla, where I was assigned to the environmental department. I found the assignment interesting but didn't feel challenged—"

  "Ma'am, Admiral Lulltrel would like to see you at your convenience," Stamm interrupted, listening to an incoming call via his earbud.

  "Check my calendar. I'm sure I have a few minutes to spare her sometime next week," I said, looking to Stamm, who pretended to check his tablet. Banner looked worried as his gaze went from Stamm to me and back again. "Or I could drop everything and get my butt to her office before she notices I'm not standing there waiting to enter," I said as I rose, snagged my jacket out of Banner's hand after he had barely managed to remove it from the coat rack, and double-timed out the door Stamm was holding open. When I reached Lulltrel's office, which was now only at the other end of the hallway, her aide, Lieutenant Commander Spalding, had the door open. I entered, braced to attention, and saluted.

  "Have a seat, Anna." She waved to two padded chairs as she rose and took the one opposite me. "Admiral Webb would like you to do him a favor." She shook her head before I could respond. "No, that's not a polite order. It's a real favor since it has nothing to do with NIA. But Webb is a good boss and told me first to ensure I was in the loop, and he wasn't subverting the chain of command. You don't have to agree to help, or you can agree and just go through the motions… Except that's not your way, is it, Anna?" She gave a small snort.

  "Are you comfortable with his request, ma'am?" I asked. "You're a good boss, and I wouldn't want to do anything you weren't comfortable with."

  "Thank you, Anna. Yes, I'm comfortable with you talking with Webb and you doing whatever you feel appropriate. I'll leave it to you to tell me whatever you think is relevant for me to know." She tapped on her tablet. "Spalding, see when Admiral Webb will be available to talk with Admiral Paulus."

  Before we could finish our coffees, Spalding knocked and peeked in.

  "Ma'am, his secretary said now would be a good time."

  I stood, saluted, and left for the stairs, since climbing two floors would be faster than the elevator. When I arrived, the door was open and the lieutenant on duty waved for me to go in. I entered, braced to attention, and saluted.

  Webb returned my salute and waved for me to sit as he rose to join me. "Lieutenant Grimes, get Admiral Paulus and me some coffee. Anna, a fellow officer and friend, a General Guzman, had his daughter go missing several weeks ago. He claims the police aren't doing anything to find her and asked me to help. I know this is a local police matter…but I was hoping you would take a look and give me your impression." He sipped the coffee his aide had put in front of him as he awaited my response.

  "Sir, I'd be glad to talk to the police, but I can't guarantee they'll give me access to the case files or that they'll even be willing to discuss the case with me."

  "All I'm asking is for you to do what you can. I think the request would be better coming from you than me."

  * * *

  "Carl, would you see if you can get me an appointment with the Eastar Police Commissioner," I said, then quickly added, "at his convenience." I had dealt with Commissioner Kinard before and thought we were on good terms, but the police tended to be very protective of their domain and didn't tolerate outside interference. Asking to be briefed on their actions and findings would top their not-in-your-lifetime list.

  A short time later, Stamm jerked me out of my musings. "Ma'am, you have an appointment with Commissioner Kinard for eight hundred hours tomorrow at the police headquarters building."

  "Carl, I'll go straight there tomorrow. I don't know when I'll be back—hopefully by noon. If I'm delayed, I'll call and let you know," I said, hoping Kinard didn't dismiss me two minutes after I told him what I wanted. When Carl left, I sat back and pondered what my involvement with the NIA station chiefs should be. I didn't want to interfere in their day-to-day activities but felt I'd be remiss if I limited my interaction to reading their monthly reports. By the time I left work, I had a cruiser-sized headache.

  "You look worried, Daughter," Alexa said as we met in the hallway outside our rooms after I had changed out of my uniform and had a wash. "Trouble or just the stress of a new job?"

  "I don't think admirals work. They have master chiefs or lieutenants as guard dogs, aides-de-camp to fetch and run errands, and a staff to do the actual work," I blurted.

  Alexa laughed. "Boredom? Is that the problem?" she asked and laughed again, pointing to Red, who was partially wrapped around my neck but whose small red head and part of his body hung limp on my chest. "Looks like Red is also bored."

  "He's probably caught my headache. I have a staff of fifteen commanders but only one attends my staff meetings."

  Alexa laughed once more. "So you're bored."

  "I'm concerned. I have absolutely no contact with them," I said as we proceeded down the stairs and took our seats for dinner. Against tradition, Alexa had a round table that could seat eight rather than a more formal rectangular one. She hoped it made her guests less conscious of others’ job positions or rank. As we did Carla, the cook, placed salads in front of us.

  "They are commanders, so it shouldn't be necessary to watch them closely." This time Alexa looked serious.

  "Mother, how would you like to captain a war cruiser where your navigator resided in the environmental department, your weapons officer in the Marines area, your communications officer in the dispensary, etc., and you had to communicate via a runner." I threw my arms up in exasperation. Alexa choked on the salad she was chewing. I jumped up and stood patting her on the back, ready to help further if necessary as she fought to clear her throat. When she finally stopped coughing, she began laughing.

  "That's an image that is going to be hard to forget. But I see your point. I would imagine most flag officers would consider that a bonus—less work, therefore more time to enjoy the prestige. Speaking of that, how did the interviews go?"

  "I selected an aide-de-camp and I like him. But neither he nor I know what he's supposed to do." I lowered my head onto the table and banged it several times. "Oh, Admiral Webb wants me to do him a personal favor."

  "That's good, isn't it? It will give you something to do."

  "He wants me to poke into an ongoing police investigation that has no naval involvement," I said to clarify the potential problem and then added, "I'd rather stick my bare hand into a beehive to get sweetener for my coffee."

  Alexa sprayed a mouthful of coffee across the table and began choking again. When she stopped, she began laughing. Eventually she sobered. "I never realized there were so many problems to being an admiral," she said and laughed again.

  * * *

  Dressed in a navy-blue pantsuit with a light-blue cotton blouse open at the neck, I walked into the lobby of the police headquarters building fifteen minutes early because I wasn't sure what delays I might encounter getting to the Commissioner's office.

  "Can I help you?" a young police officer asked as I approached the information counter, which sat prominently in the middle of the lobby. Behind the black marble counter were several security lanes where badges, destinations, and luggage where checked. I had intentionally left my multifunctional weapon, Mfw, with my security detail, whom I had asked
to remain in the lobby. I hoped I'd be relatively safe in a building swarming with police.

  "Yes. I'm Miss Anna Paulus and I have an eight o'clock appointment with Commissioner Kinard."

  The young man frowned as he examined his monitor. "Can I see some identification, ma'am? This says Admiral Paulus." He smiled. I smiled back and handed him my NIA identification badge. He blushed and returned it along with a visitor's badge. "The commissioner is located on the tenth floor, Admiral. This pass will get you through the security and authorize you to be on the tenth floor."

  "Thank you, Officer," I said and headed for the security gates. I had no problem and was glad I wasn't carrying a weapon. On the tenth floor, a police sergeant directed me to Kinard's secretary and I arrived ten minutes early.

  "You can go right in, Miss Paulus. Commissioner Kinard is expecting you," said the middle-aged woman secretary. Although smiling, she looked confused—probably because Kinard had listed me as an admiral and I was wearing civilian clothes and didn't fit the image of an admiral. She knocked and then opened the door to a room about the size of my office. When I entered, Kinard rose and came around his desk to meet me.

  "I still can't believe you and I survived investigating Vice Admiral Lulltrel. Although you had P1A authority at the time, I thought you would be court martialed and I'd be assigned to a desk job for the rest of my career." He laughed. "I'm surprised you aren't in uniform. As a newly promoted admiral, I would have thought you would have to be forced to take it off. But you don't care about rank, do you, Anna?" he said more as a statement rather than a question. "Or you wouldn't have had Lulltrel investigated."