Somehow Hayes had kept the fantasy together. Though there were stirrings of discontent among his men, and an ever diminishing number were free of a doubt that bordered on bewilderment, no word of their true position had yet reached them. And though the destructive force of the Third Fleet had not grown, neither had it sufficiently diminished. And the wounded predator is by far the most dangerous. Hayes was desperate. After six months of running, engaging only in minor skirmishes which could hardly be colored as 'the forward lance of democracy', of getting his information only from Hayes, Admiral Frank was tormented by uncertainty. Why was Congress still squabbling? When would reinforcements arrive? It was clear that the Soviets were astir, and what was worse, by the look of it were coming directly after them. But more troublesome than all of this, to a loyal soldier who did not scare easily, was the thought that perhaps Hayes was not telling the whole truth---that they were being used for some scheme of his which did not entirely align with the wishes of the President. Why did Hayes continue to deny even the most basic military communications? They had had literally no sight or sound of their fellow soldiers in five full months. Granted they fought their battles along the frontiers, where lines of communication were stretched thin, and often erased altogether by the time factor. But to be so totally isolated, to feel cut off from one's own compatriots..... That it took Frank so long to entertain even these simple doubts, showed just how deep his military training had gone. As intended, he was no longer an individual, no longer a thinking, questioning being, but merely an instrument, a cog in a runaway machine. But despite all efforts to the contrary, even a cog has a mind. Finally he could bear it no longer. He secured an audience with the man alone, difficult enough just that, and told him in no uncertain terms of the Fleet's need for fuel, repairs, and additional vessels to replace those lost in the fighting. He had also intended to demand access to direct communications; but the forbidding glare aroused in the hawkish face as he approached the subject, made him back off. Insisting on a link-up with one of the American outposts would have to cover it. If something were truly amiss, surely they would find out there. But Hayes' cunning was not yet expired. He had foreseen this. Already he had his next move planned. "Very well, Admiral. In truth I'd been thinking along the same lines myself. There are two outposts in Scimitar, are there not? The nearer being Westmoreland station, is that correct?" "Yes, General. Shall I alter our course in that direction?" "By all means. Only not too straight or too fast. I want to send a Detachment there first to make sure everything is on the level. The Russians have been getting a little too close for comfort, eh?" With this his face broke into an unnatural smile.