Greetings

[Porpoise]

Part 9, while I wonder if Spike has received advance copies of the next chapter

The meeting broke up and Holst walked out without acknowledging me. As I returned to the Operations section I found the team huddled together in muttered conference and when they saw me they fell silent and returned to their desks. Holst's attitude towards me had infected them as they questioned whether I was up to the task and deserving of their efforts. After sitting at my desk for a moment a thought struck me.
"Vos," I called, "do you have a moment?"
"What is it, sir?"
"Do we have the latest satellite images of Kaliningrad?"
"I can get them."
"Please do," I said, "and then gather the others."
The satellite photos were soon spread on the planning table and the team stood around them.
"These are the latest images of Kaliningrad, home of the 336th Guards Naval Infantry Brigade. As we can see, they haven't moved out of their barracks. Is that right, Vos?"
"Yes, that's right. Their vehicles are parked in lines along here," she pointed with a painted nail.
"Are we sure they are all there?"
"Yes," she said, "we've counted their vehicles and they are ninety percent present."
"Okay," I said, "how could you count them all?"
Vos, Thomsen and Berger took turns blinking at me.
"Because they are parked in the open," Vos said after a pause. The look on her face told me she had serious doubts about my competence.
"Don't the Russians have cover for their vehicles?"
"Yes, of course they...wait," said Vos. She bent over the table to compare the shots more carefully. Even given the seriousness of the situation I couldn't help but admire the way she filled out her uniform.
"You're right," she said, "almost every vehicle has been parked outside for our satellites to photograph."
"So, they wanted us to see them?" asked young Thomsen.
"Yes," said Berger, screwing up his massive bulldog face, "but why?"
This time they all looked at me as if I could supply the answer but I didn't have it yet. As Vos bent over the photos again I turned to see McHenry standing in the corner of the command center with an odd look on his face.
"I got a feeling you ain't flavor of the month, bud," he said as I walked over to him.
"What makes you think that, McHenry?"
I suddenly felt very tired and depressed and it must have showed on my face.
"Let's go grab a bite," he said and we headed for the canteen.

The canteen was operating 24 hours day now in Kolsas which was becoming a base that never slept. We joined the queue, grabbed some chow and sat together in a corner table.
"I heard your briefing was as welcome as a fart in a space suit."
"News travels fast around here," I said.
"Ain't much else to do round here 'cept work and gossip."
"I guess I'm just not cut out for the political side of this job." McHenry took a bite of his roll and chewed for a while before he spoke.
"Here's the way I see it, bud. This ain't no popularity contest. You're here to tell the truth and if the truth is shitty, well that's just too bad. You ain't doing no favors by spouting a load of feel-good bull."
McHenry and I were seated at a corner table, hidden from most of the canteen by a utility cupboard which jutted out into the service area. The canteens were a very egalitarian area, where you could see a general eating from a tray next to a corporal or a major. And that is exactly what I did see, a Norwegian signals corporal eating next to a Danish major who was deep in discussion with a Danish major general. It was my planning officer, Major Olsen nodding seriously at my superior officer Generalbrigade Holst, Deputy Chief of Staff Operations.
"Well," I said to McHenry, "I've got a feeling I won't have to do it for much longer." McHenry twisted around in his seat to see where I was looking.
"Ah, hell," he said, "if all they want is someone to blow smoke up their ass we got bigger problems."