"Sir we have to act."

  The fevered pitch of figuring-outs the last pieces of puzzle which included hot war at Sea and intrigue amongst Countrymen vying for resources swarmed at the man told at breakfast by his mother, (i)whatever it is, you can do it(i).  There'd been no time to argue that every other man in his family did not express that sentiment. 

  Like the fifteen foot waves, "life" had become swells of interactions, designations, and letting go's of the intensely powerful (i)projections(i) onto the man's authentic self. He looked at the Seaspray'd horizon and squinted.  (i)Enemy detected(i). 

  "They think we're on a 'suicide mission'," a pimply faced kid had seen news. 

  "Would I be here with you if that was true?" The man tracked and held the younger man's eyes. The kid did not know like not knowing a lot of things.  His eyes wavered from the man's.  "Look at me.  Everyone is entitled to their opinion.  That is (i)not(i) what we're doing here.  This is a battle." 

  The kid stared at the man. 

  "The rest of you take your positions." 

  "Sir, yes Sir."