Well, it didn't matter for tonight, did it? She was having her period, and even if Jack had asked - which he wouldn't, she knew - she'd say no. Why should he ask, if he was getting it somewhere else? Why should she say yes if he was? Why get the leavings? Why be second-string?

She sipped more carefully at her drink this time.

Need to get advice, need to talk to somebody, But who?

Maybe Bernie, she decided. She could trust Bernie. Soon as she got back. Two days.

"That takes care of the preliminaries."

"Sure does, boss." the coach said. "How goes the Pentagon, Dennis?"

"Not as much fun as you're having, Paul."

"That's the choice, isn't it? Fun or importance?"

"Everybody all right?"

"Yes, sir! We're pretty healthy for this far into the season, and we have this week to get everybody up to speed. I want another crack at those Vikings."

"So do I." Secretary Bunker said from his E-Ring office. "Think we can really stop Tony Wills this time?"

"We can sure try. Isn't he one great kid? I haven't seen running like that since Gayle Sayers. Defensing him is a bitch, though."

"Let's not try to think too far ahead. I want to be in Denver in a few weeks."

"We play 'em one at a time, Dennis, you know that. Just we don't know who we're playing yet. I'd prefer LA. We can handle them easy enough." the coach thought. "Then we'll probably have to handle Miami in the division game. That'll be harder, but we can do it."

"I think so, too."

"I have films to look at."

"Fair enough. Just remember, one at a time - but three more wins."

"You tell the President to come on out to Denver. We'll be there to see him. This is San Diego's year. The Chargers go all the way."

Dubinin watched the water invade the graving dock as the sluices were opened. Admiral Lunin was ready. The new sonar array was rolled up on its spool inside the teardrop-shaped fairing that sat atop the rudder post. The seven-bladed screw of manganese-bronze had been inspected and polished. The hull was restored to full watertight integrity. His submarine was ready for sea.

As was the crew. He'd gotten rid of eighteen conscript sailors and replaced them with eighteen new officers. The radical down-sizing of the Soviet submarine fleet had eliminated a large number of officer billets. It would have been a waste of skilled manpower to return them to civilian life - besides which there were not enough jobs for them - and as a result they'd been retrained and assigned to the remaining submarines as technical experts. His sonar department would now be almost exclusively officers - two michmaniy would assist with the maintenance - and all of them were genuine experts. Surprisingly, there was little grumbling among them. The Akula class had what was for Soviet submarines very comfortable accommodations, but more important than that was the fact that the new members of the wardroom had been fully briefed on their mission, and what the boat had done - probably done, Dubinin corrected himself - on the previous cruise. It was the sort of thing that appealed to the sportsman in them. This was for the submariner the ultimate test of skill. For that they would do their best.