Admiral Smith picks up his satellite phone to the fleet and calls out to Vice-Admiral Kevin O’Rourke. “Kevin, what kind of success are your two squadrons having finding the Kilos they’re trailing?”
“They’re reporting only intermittent success so far, sir, I regret to say,” he says.
“No, that’s okay. I want you to pull both squadrons back to the lines in the previous message I just sent you. Concentrating the greater number of vessels and planes we can there will give us a better chance of finding them.”
“You’re saying you just want us to break off as if we quit looking for them?” O’Rourke questions.
“That’s exactly what I want you to do,” the admiral replies. “If they believe we’ve quit, we may find it easier for us to corner them closer to our shores.”
“That’s a real gamble, sir,” the vice-admiral says without considering the impact such words might have.
In frustration, the admiral replies, “No shit, Kevin, but do it my way, will you?”
“Yes, sir. Will do.” Kevin O’Rourke knows the admiral will remember those four careless words for some time to come.
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