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Wagner swallowed and straightened the microscopic wrinkles in his uniform. He searched for a reason to delay—anything that would keep him out of the room at the end of this corridor. He sighed and overcame his inertia. No one kept the Security Com?mittee for the UNSC waiting.
A pair of MPs snapped to as he approached the set of double doors. They didn't salute, and their hands rested on their hol-stered sidearms. They stared straight ahead, but Wagner knew that if he twitched the wrong way he'd be shot first and ques?tioned later.
The doors silently swung inward.
He entered, and the doors closed behind him and locked. Wagner recognized most of the brass seated at the crescent-shaped table: Major General Nicolas Strauss, Fleet Admiral Sir Terrence Hood, and Colonel James Ackerson. Vice Admiral Whit-comb's chair was empty.
Another half-dozen officers were also present, and all were of command rank, which made Wagner nervous. Each had display tablets set before them, and even upside down, Wagner recog?nized his preliminary report and video records.
Wagner saluted.
General Strauss leaned forward and snapped off his display. "Christ! Did we know they had so many damn ships?" He
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banged a fist onto the table. "Why the hell didn't we know about this? Who in ONI let this one slip by?"
Ackerson leaned back. "No one is to blame, General—except the Covenant, obviously. I'm more concerned with our response to this incursion. Our fleet was decimated."
Ackerson's reputation preceded him. Wagner had heard about the lengths to which he'd gone in the past to make sure his own operations got priority over Section Three's. His rivalry with the SPARTAN-II program leader, Dr. Catherine Halsey, was the stuff of legend. Wagner thought Ackerson had been reassigned to a front-line post. Apparently he'd squirmed out of it. That was trouble.
Admiral Hood straightened and pushed his display away and finally acknowledged Wagner. He returned the salute. The Ad?miral was impeccably groomed, not a silver hair out of place on his head, and yet there were dark circles under his eyes. "At ease, Lieutenant."
Wagner tucked his hands behind the small of his back and moved his feet slightly apart, but otherwise didn't relax a mil?limeter. One was never at ease when in the presence of lions, sharks, and scorpions.
Hood turned to Ackerson. "Decimate is the wrong word, Colonel. We would have been decimated if we lost one ship out of every ten." He voice rose slightly. "Instead, we lost ten of our ships for every one that managed to limp away. It was a total disaster!"
"Of course, Admiral." Ackerson nodded, pretending to listen, and his eyes flickered over the report again. His eyebrows raised as he noticed the time and date stamp. "There's one thing, how?ever, I'd like answered first." His glassy glare locked onto Wag?ner. "The time difference between the events in this report and now..." He trailed off, lost in thought. "Congratulations, Lieu?tenant. This is a new speed record from Reach to Earth. Espe?cially when I know you took the time to perform the legally required random jumps before returning to Earth."