“Don’t hold your breath, Captain,” Patrick said with a laugh—his first laugh in many, many days.

“How’s the missus?” Jackson asked.

Patrick tried not to let his smile completely wash away. “Still away. She should be back in town next weekend.”

“Good. Can’t wait to see her again. You still owe my wife and me a rematch of our last golf match.”

“You’re on, Fred.”

Jackson could tell something was wrong, but he decided not to pursue it further. He nodded toward the televisions. “So what do you think we’ll do over in Egypt? Anything?”

Patrick shrugged as he readjusted the ice pack on his shoulder. “Move up the Kennedy battle group to the Red Sea to defend the Suez Canal, keep the two carrier groups on station in the Med, and try to keep the conflict from spreading to the Persian Gulf or Israel,” Patrick said. “Purely defensive moves—I don’t think the President wants to send in any military forces. If Libya stays on the move, destroys Salimah, takes the Suez Canal, and crosses over the Red Sea into Israel, then I think the President might make a move. But I think he’s really hoping Susan Salaam will pull the Arab countries together to fight off Libya.” He looked at Jackson. “So what do you think we’ll do?”

“What I think we’ll do! Same as you—nada,” Jackson replied. “What I think we should do? We should go pay President Zuwayy of Libya a little visit, blow up a few of his palaces just to get his attention, and then deprive him of his bombers, fighters, airstrips, and rockets—and that’s all for starters. My guys can do all that in one night. Two at the most.” Jackson was definitely not above a little hubris when it came to sending Navy SEALs into action. He looked carefully at Patrick. “Of course, scuttlebutt says someone or some group of someones might have been already mixing it up with the king. Wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, sir?”

“Not a thing. But if they did, they should have their heads examined.”

“Maybe they can show our commander-in-chief how it’s done,” Jackson said.

“President Salaam needs to fight for her country too. She’s got a military—she needs to use it to defend her people.”

“If anyone can do it, she can. Not bad for an Air Force puke, I guess.”

“No Air Force cracks—unless you want to lose those four stars I had planned for you.”

“Oops—sorry, sorry, sir, sorry,” Jackson said with a smile—he was one of the few Navy SEALs Patrick had ever met that actually seemed to like to smile. He shook Patrick’s hand warmly. “If there’s anything you need, sir, please don’t hesitate to ask. And I hope you don’t mind I have my spies out keeping an eye on you. You’re the biggest celebrity we’ve had hanging around the area since Dennis Conner. We’ll be sorry to see you and Wendy head back to Washington.” Before Patrick could protest again, Jackson added, “I know, I know, you’re not in the running. I’ll remember you said that when I see you at your confirmation party in Washington. You sure you don’t need a doctor to look at your shoulder?”