CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
The mood on the deck of the USS Constitution was palpably grim, and had been ever since the destruction of the trio of IRGC ships at the hands of the battleship Pennsylvania. Lieutenant Cohen had been offered another four-hour reprieve from the radar, but he turned it down. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, nor would he be able to think about anything other than the blatant lie that Captain Warren had demanded of his officers.
They fired first. The United States was half a world away; the news they received from the Persian Gulf was the news that their Navy provided them. And while that was normally the truth, it was now shockingly apparent that it could be whatever the captain and those above him deemed it should be.
Beside him at the communications array, Lieu
