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It was less than twenty minutes later that Clint and the four members of the Coast Guard were pulling the rig back into port at Pearl Harbor, without the Japanese submarine. When Clint and Brian breached the surface it was decided that perhaps a salvage crew was needed for such a mission – even Clint had to admit that maybe he had been a bit hasty.
Even before they docked, Clint could see that his actions had gotten him in trouble. Standing on the dock, awaiting their arrival, was Lieutenant Commander Randall.
Lt. Commander Randall was the living embodiment of what Clint hated about commissioned officers in the armed forces. At least twenty pounds overweight, skin so white it looked like it had never seen daylight and a long beaked nose that made him look like he was constantly looking down on others, Randall carried with him an air of arrogance that he had no right too. But, being an officer who got to where he was through smarts rather than action, he believed he had earned that arrogance, and acted accordingly.
Now really Lt. Commander was a part of the Coast Guard and technically had no authority over Clint, but as he was an officer, this fact was inconsequential and Clint could see from the way he was steaming as he watched them dock, that he was readying himself to give Clint a what's for.
"Randall," Clint offered as he hoped off the rig, making his way past the fuming Commander and down the dock.
"That's Lieutenant Commander Randall to you Reese," Randall began as he powered after Clint.
"Oh right, I always forget that part."
"Stand to attention. Now!" Randall commanded, which of course Clint did not obey. "That's an order soldier --"
"I'm not a soldier," Randall shot back, still not stopping. As he walked he waved to a few men on the docks, winking at them as he did. They had all come out to watch the little performance that he was putting on. "And as far as I'm aware I don't get my orders from you. Just my commanding officer... or and the President of the United States if he is so inclined."
"I'm a Lieutenant Commander --"
"Of the Coast Guard. Heck, an enlisted ensign wouldn't even salute you." There was a crowd of people watching now as Clint reached the end of the dock. He really had no where to go, he just didn't feel much like standing around and being yelled at by someone on a power trip.
"You think that matters soldier. I don't care if you are a SEAL. I wouldn't care if you were a member of the fucking Secret Service. You put one of my men's life at risk. So I'm coming for you. I'm coming for you like you wouldn't believe. You won't be able to peel potato with the god damn mess-men when I'm done with you!"
Finished his spiel, Lieutenant Commander Randall turned and stormed back down the dock toward his men. They had been watching the argument and where looking rather guilty, Brian especially. It was lucky that Randall had gone, Clint thought to himself. Otherwise Clint may have just said something that he really would regret. Actually, strike that. Clint would have definitely said something he'd come to regret.
But as of that moment, he wasn't too worried really. There wasn't a whole lot that Randall could do to him. At least he was pretty sure there wasn't. But still... Randall did know people in higher places. Clint just hoped that this, like all the other times, he was just taking out his ass.
CHAPTER TWO
As Olivia Conway made her way through Naval Base San Diego, she braced herself for the inevitable onslaught of catcalls, perverted leers and wolf whistling that was sure to follow her every step. It wasn't that she had tickets on herself, or thought that she was so darn stunning that this was bound to happen no matter where she went. It was just that every time she stepped foot on the Naval Base, and that meant every single time, someone either catcalled her, wolf whistled at her or at the very least stared at her until she was out of sight.
The sad reality of the world, especially the military one, was that women were still treated as second class citizens. It didn't matter that Olivia Conway was a Commissioned Officer, a Lieutenant in fact, in the United States Navy. And it didn't matter that she had complained to her superiors already on multiple occasions about it. All that mattered was that she was female and that was that. Plus it didn't help that she was a rather attractive female too.
Although Olivia wore a Naval cap, her long blonde hair still peaked out underneath its edges. And although she wore the regulatory Naval White that all officers wore, her curvaceous, taught body, still made itself known. And even though she wore little make-up, her sharp cheekbones still poked out and her light blue eyes still popped no matter how she tried to conceal them. Yep, walking onto the Naval Base meant that she was basically a lamb to the slaughter.
Usually Olivia avoided going to the Naval Base when she could. As an intelligence officer she very rarely had to frequent the docks at all and had thus become less accustomed to the cat calls and leering that others she knew had to put up with on a daily basis. But today it was unavoidable.
She arrived to her office early that morning, as she always did, only to be told that she was needed urgently down by the docks. She was to report to the Coast Guard of all places, where an assignment was awaiting her.
She had no idea what the assignment was going to be but as it was with the Coast Guard and as it came directly from Head Office, Olivia was pretty certain that she wasn't going to like it. And that wasn't a slight at the Coast Guard, or even at the Head Office. It was purely an observation based off the knowledge that she currently wasn't the most popular person in the United States Navy and if she had to guess, this new posting was a means of punishing her.
Olivia took the long way to the Coast Guard headquarters that morning. It was done as a means of avoiding horny sailors and engineers that loitered by the water side and although it did much to stem to onslaught, there were still one or two occasions where she could hear a male voice calling out to her in a less than flattering manner. If it wasn't for the rush she was in she might have even considered turning back and reprimanding them. She was an officer after all, but as that rarely worked and she was already in a rush, she let them be.
Five minutes later she was walking into the Coast Guard's headquarters and with no one manning the front desk, she stepped directly into Captain Warrick's office without so much as a cursory knock.
Captain Warrick wasn't alone, with him was one other officer that Olivia didn't recognize. He was rotund and looked like the kind of officer that had a perpetual stick up his butt, or at least Olivia thought so. As she entered the office she saluted the two men.
"At ease," Captain Warrick said, seated behind his desk. "And take a seat."
Olivia took a seat behind Warrick's desk. She noted t
hat the other officer didn't bother, remaining standing by the desk as if he had a point to make.
"Captain Warrick. I was told to meet with you as soon as I arrived this morning. But I'm afraid to say that I'm at a loss as to why," Olivia began. She made sure to address the Captain as such, even though he wasn't technically military. But as said, Olivia wasn't exactly in the Navy's good graces at the moment and as such she preferred to stay formal.
"Yes, yes," Warrick said, leaning back in his chair. "Oh, this is Lieutenant Commander Randall, posted at Pearl Harbor," he said vaguely as he indicated to Randall. Randall offered Olivia a curt nod, before turning back to face Warrick.
"Is he the reason I am here?" She asked, having no idea who Randall was. She wasn't too familiar with Pearl Harbor.
