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SEA OF SHADOWS 297
Captain Bowie walked down the port side, toward the door that would
lead him down to Sick Bay. He knew that he should go to CIC instead.
They needed him there. His crew was looking to him for the plan, the
stroke of tactical genius, the rabbit out of the hat that would let his crippled
ship take on a cunning and deadly enemy and somehow emerge
triumphant.
But that could wait, for a few minutes at least. He could spare two
minutes for the last surviving member of a United States warship.
The Chief Hospital Corpsman met him at the door to Sick Bay. “He’s
already gone, sir. We did everything we could, but he just slipped away
from us. I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault, Doc,” the captain said. “What was his name?”
“His uniform was mostly burned off when they pulled him out of the
water. We couldn’t find any ID. We … don’t know his name, sir.”
The captain nodded and walked away. “Thanks, Doc,” he said over his
shoulder. Bowie headed for CIC. He shook his head as he walked. They
didn’t even know the kid’s name.