“Captain—”
“I said stand down. Now. There will be no complaint filed from my house. If Lieutenant Dallas wishes to file—”
“I have no wish to file.”
Hayes inclined his head. “Then you’re a better man than I. I’d like to request a copy of that disc, Commander.”
“Request granted.”
“I’ll consider the contents of the recording and take such actions as are deemed appropriate. Open your mouth, Renfrew, and I’ll be filing myself. I want you to step outside. That’s an order.”
The insult went deep enough to have him vibrating. “Yes, sir, but under protest.”
“So noted.” Hayes waited until the door slammed. “My apologies, Commander Whitney, for bringing this mess to your door, and for the unbecoming behavior of my officer.”
“Your officer needs discipline, Captain.”
“He needs a kick in the ass, sir, and I can promise you he’ll get one. My apologies to you as well, Lieutenant.”
“Unnecessary, Captain.”
“That’s the first thing you’ve said I disagree with since you walked in. Renfrew is a problem child, but he is, for the moment, my problem child. I run a clean house, Lieutenant, and take responsibility for any untidiness that works its way in. Thank you for your time, Commander.”
He started for the door, paused, and turned. “Lieutenant, Sergeant Clooney and I rookied together. I went to see him after the events of last May came to light. He said you were an untarnished badge and he was grateful you were the one to bring him in. I don’t know if that makes any difference to you, but it did to him.”
He nodded again, stepped out, and closed the door quietly at his back.
When they were alone, Whitney rose and walked to his AutoChef. “Coffee, Lieutenant?”
“No, sir. Thank you.”
“Sit down, Dallas.”
“Commander, I apologize for my disrespect and insubordination. My behavior was—”
“Impressive,” Whitney interrupted. “Don’t spoil it by remembering who’s in charge in this room now.”
She winced and searched for something to say. “I have no excuse.”
“I didn’t ask for one.” He brought his coffee back to his desk. “But if I required one I might start by asking how much sleep you got last night.”
“I don’t—”
“Answer the question.”
“A couple.”
“And the night before?”
“I don’t . . . I can’t say.”
“I told you to sit down,” he reminded her. “Shall I make it an order?”
She sat.
“I’ve never been a witness to you dressing down an officer—heard rumors,” he added. “Now I can safely say you’ve earned your rep. You did what had to be done with Clooney and the One-twenty-eight. That doesn’t mean you won’t take flak for it.”
“Understood, sir.”