34. MARTIGAN
Martigan was still flabbergasted by the cold efficiency, and to be frank, sterility of the carrier. He hadn’t seen men and women functioning much at all over the past few weeks, let alone at this extremely high level. The marines were playing football against the sailors on the flight deck, while planes still took off and landed at a fairly regular pace. They had apparently utterly pounded Honolulu into paste. They were quite proud of that. More recently, they had put down a rebellion in their own fleet. They were quite proud of that, too.
One of the sailors led Martigan into the stateroom, a mahogany-and-oil-paintings affair with plush couches and even a television with a DVD player. Martigan flipped through a few stations, but of course, there was nothing but snow.
