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red light glowing on the control board.
"Are you familiar with the child's game of hide-and-seek?"
It was a strange question, but Brosnan was used to that from his superior
officer.
"Yes, Admiral."
"Did you play it?"
Brosnan frowned, trying to free-associate and come up with Poseidon's line of
logic. However, he an-swered quickly. "Yes, sir, I did."
"So did I, and I was damned good at the game," the Admiral replied. No
surprise there. According to Poseidon, everything he had ever attempted had
been a rousing success. Still, Brosnan knew from obser-vation and evidence
that most of the bluster was true. Especially when it came to games from war
games to board games to games of chance.
"You're good at games, sir," Brosnan offered lamely. He hated it when Poseidon
went into this mode. It made him feel like the worse kind of ass kisser.
Which, to a large degree, he was, but he didn't like having it trotted out so
blatantly. Once, the blandly handsome Brosnan had dreams of his own. He was a
scholar, a
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Axler,_James_-_Deathlands_39_-_Watersleep historian. He spent all of his days
as a young man in search of information about the past, and his passion had
been the military.
When he met the man who called himself Poseidon for the first time, it was
like they were two pieces of a larger puzzle that had been joined at last.
But whereas Brosnan had no real taste for becom-ing a leader, Poseidon did. He
made a deal with his friend, telling him in confidence of the still intact
base at
Kings Point. Poseidon had known of the place since he was a boy, and he had
been living on the Georgia coast all of his life.
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With Brosnan's knowledge and talents, and Posei-don's drive and ambition, they
decided to rebuild the base from the ground up. A decade had passed, and
Brosnan had watched as the older man's desire for power started to turn him in
the direction of cruelty and dominance. But what could he do? Poseidon was the
undisputed leader, and Brosnan was a man of books in a world of violence.
At Kings Point, Brosnan had his place. From time to time, he might have to
assist in a bit of unpleas-antness, but that was the cost for his
position along with the loss of his once close friendship with Posei-don. Oh,
Brosnan was still the
Admiral's confidant. Poseidon trusted no one more. However, now he shut the
younger man out of his schemes until they were ready to unfold. Poseidon's
dark plans were his own.
Brosnan found that suited him fine.
"I love games! I love to win! Nobody wanted me to be 'it,' because I was
always able to track down each and every one of my friends," Poseidon
contin-ued.
"Really?" Brosnan said, tuning back in on the conversation.
Poseidon paused for effect. "Track them one by one."
"Track?" Brosnan laughed. "Strong words for a child's game."
"Even then I played to win, Commander. My childhood wasn't easy. There were
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Axler,_James_-_Deathlands_39_-_Watersleep only a few of us in that spacious
enclave. Two girls, three boys. I was the youngest. I grew up behind glass
with my father and mother observing me as intently as they might have looked
at one of their own freakish experi-ments."
Poseidon paused, lost in memory. "At times," he said softly, "I wonder if that
was the only reason my dear mother consented to becoming preg-nant in the
first place."
Brosnan tried to shield his expression. Rarely had Poseidon offered a tidbit
like this from his past even when they were at their closest, and to open up
in front of the enlisted men was even more unusual.
"You are surprised at my candor?"
"Aye, sir. Yes."
"In war, men act differently, Mr. Brosnan. Make no mistake about it. At this
moment, we are at war. When we left, the base was in flames. Under attack. We
may have to run silent and deep for a long time before returning home."
Brosnan didn't answer.
"This is what being a submariner entails. The com-plete and utter mastery of a
child's pastime. Hide and seek, seek and hide. You keep your vessel hidden
while trying to find theirs. It's all laid out in the man-uals. I've done my
research and so have you. The finest manuscripts that I've been able to buy or
steal. Many of them captured on discs of shining gold, and I was lucky enough
to possess the computer hardware needed to access their information. I own the
finest in fiction and nonfiction, including all of the known works of the
master statistician, the great
Clancy him-self."
"I know, sir. I've read them." Brosnan paused for a second. "All of them."
"Not all, Commander. I also have two of his first editions, one inscribed in
the author's own hand," Poseidon said. "A man has to keep some secrets,
Commander. You read second editions, but his words of cursive were for me
alone."
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Axler,_James_-_Deathlands_39_-_Watersleep
"Aye, sir." Brosnan was starting to become wor-ried. Poseidon was talking of
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trivial matters at a time when the fate of the
Raleigh was at stake.
"You may restart the engines now. Maintain course, Mr. Brosnan. I have an
errand."
"Where are you headed, Admiral?"
"To rid ourselves of a barnacle," Poseidon mur-mured. "A particularly
insistent one."
"Cawdor?"
"Aye."
"We could go ahead and start a search. He can't hide for long."
Poseidon glanced around the control room. The two men at various stations
weren't expendable. Neither was Brosnan. His knowledge of the operations of
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