Heather’s phone began to ring when she walked through the door. She quickly stroked Stubbette, who was there to greet her, then grabbed the phone from her purse before the voice mail got it.
“Hi, this is Commander Enerson. I’m sorry it took so long to get back to you.”
Kevin Enerson handled most of the media relations for Navy Base, San Diego. Heather had dealt with him numerous times over the years on topics ranging from Afghanistan deployments to medical waste washing up on the shores of the bay. He was always pleasant enough, even when the issues weren’t so positive.
Heather had called him earlier in the day to ask about the Navy’s use of dolphins. She had specifically mentioned the pistol bearing nose cones Gary Montrose had told her about. Enerson had not been versed enough on t
