“Where are you?” the President asked. “I called the primary number and they transferred me.”
“On the way to the hospital to see my two wounded men,” Mike replied. “Don’t worry, it’s not interfering with the mission.”
“That’s open for debate,” the President said. “Two barrels of VX were intercepted in Central Florida. The officer who found them only got a whiff of one of the binaries but he’s in the hospital. Tell me you have some good news.”
“I can’t,” Mike said. “What I have so far are hunches.”
“Your hunches have been pretty good in the past.”
“Okay, sir,” Mike said, closing his eyes. “I have a hunch that the boats are picking up their cargo from a container that’s floating somewhere north of Bahamas Grand Island. Probably underwater. That they then run down the coast of the Keys and drop it off. Another boat, probably two Scarab fast-fishers that we’ve lost track of, pick the stuff up. How were they moving it?”
“In the back of a Wal-Mart truck,” the president said. “Apparently it was loaded into it while the driver was eating. But we’re checking all the trucks now. They won’t be able to do that again.”
“You can move one of these in a big trunk,” Mike pointed out. “Two or three in an SUV. You can’t stop every vehicle.”
“I’d already thought of that,” the President admitted. “And I’m getting tired of everyone telling me the situation is ‘under control.’ Thanks for not doing so.”
“Under control is an overstatement if I’ve ever heard one,” Mike said. “Where’d they stop it?”
“On the turnpike, just south of Orlando.”
“Interesting,” Mike replied. “But not getting us anywhere at the moment. I’ve got an op planned that may turn up something soon. But I’m going to need some political muscle.”
“What do you need?”
“PO Johnson?” the CIC officer said, walking over to the radar tech with a message form in his hand.
“Yes, sir?”
“Your Lloyds Looper has generated some high-level interest,” the officer said. “We’re going to be putting a Viking up. When the Viking has to return they’re putting up a P-3. The take from both is going to go to your screen and your screen only. You will then send the take to this address,” the officer said, handing over the form. “You will not discuss any take from it with anyone else. Vanders will be briefed in on it but only Vanders. You may receive classified requests for retasking which you will then pass on with the minimum possible discussion. The classification on all data is Ultra Purple under code name Thunder Child. No one onboard this ship, with the sole exception of you and Vanders, is cleared for data regarding Thunder Child. Are those orders clear?”
“Yes, sir,” the tech said, her eyes wide.
“For anyone listening in,” the officer said, raising his voice slightly, “there had better not be any questions about this. Not here, not in the mess, not in the bunks. Forget you ever heard it. Chief, lock this down.”
“Yes, sir,” the section NCOIC said. “It is locked.” The crew might ignore such an order from the OIC, but they weren’t about to cross the chief.
“Sir, can I ask one question?” the tech asked. “The codeword I get. But what is Ultra Purple? I don’t recognize the security classification.”
“The group with access is restricted,” the officer said. “So even I don’t know. But Ultra class refers to working groups with CJCS and higher clearance. However, CJCS is only at Ultra White. Purple is higher.”
“Yes, sir,” the PO said, turning back to her screen. On it a contact, labeled as a friendly Viking, was just taking off. Somebody wanted to see what the ship was doing and not only did they not want the ship to know about it, they didn’t even want the captain to know about it. Hell, they didn’t want the commander of the CVBG or FLTATL to know what was going on.
What was so special about one Lloyds Looper?
Chapter Fifteen
“Hey there, man,” Mike said as he walked in Vanner’s room. “I am really upset with you.”
“Why?” Vanner said, trying to sit up.
“I thought I told you to duck!”
The former Marine was looking wan and had lost weight. Mike had seen the look before, quite a few times in the mirror. Some time in the Bahamas sunshine and Mother Savina’s cooking would do him good.
“I did,” Vanner said, smiling in relief. “Right after they shot me.”
“Doesn’t do much good then,” Mike pointed out.
“No, sir,” Vanner replied. “But I’ve been thinking about those chicken plates a lot lately. There’s a guy at Georgia Tech who came out with some better ones. They’re expensive as hell, but…”
“But you suddenly realize that expense is relative?” Mike asked, grinning.
“Something like that, yeah.”
“I’ll look into it,” Mike said. “In the meantime, you’re going to be cleared to be released in a couple more days. And I’ve got the perfect place for you to recuperate. Besides, the girls are getting all piney without their boyfriend around. Speaking of which,” Mike said, opening the door.
Greznya came in and shook her head.
“Sergeant, you were supposed to avoid getting shot,” the Keldara girl said, coming over to the bed and taking Vanner’s hand. “I’m sure I told you that.” There were tears in her eyes.
“I’m going to leave you kids alone,” Mike said. “I suggest you both have a talk about… things. Grez, I need you back at the island, though, so be ready to leave in no more than thirty minutes. That’s as long as they’re going to let you hang out in here, anyway.”
“Yes, Kildar,” the girl said.
“What about all that stuff with not being alone with Keldara girls?” Vanner said weakly.
“I don’t think that’s operable anymore,” Mike said, pausing in the doorway. “Not after Greznya was making out in public with another girl.”
“Kildar!” the girl snapped as the door closed.
“What did I miss?” Vanner asked, chuckling. “Ow! That hurts!”
“Hey, man,” Mike said, walking into Adams’s room. “You are about to be officially discharged. There’s a plane from Chatham waiting to whisk you away to a tropical island where you can continue to recuperate. Say ‘Thank you, Mike.’ ”
“Right,” Adams growled. “I’m fit as a fiddle. I can take on a platoon of Delta. Let me at ’em.”
“I think that’s troop or squad or something,” Mike said. “They’ve got that weird cavalry thing going. Seriously, you’re scheduled to be released. We’re in place. I’ve got an op going down tonight. But you’re not on it and don’t ask.”
“Ain’t gonna,” Adams admitted. “Sitting in the sunshine is really all I’m up to at the moment. But I’ll seriously be ready for light ops in a few days.”
“I know,” Mike said. “Which is why once you’re up to speed, you’re going to start training Yosif’s team on swim-ops.”
“Yosif?” Adams asked. “Swimming?”
“He’s actually not too bad,” Mike said. “For a guy who grew up in mountains. But I got to go finish the paperwork on getting you out of here. We’ll talk on the bird.”
Thomas Chatham looked at the Super Beaver and rubbed his chin.
“It’s not really for rent,” the salesman said. “I mean for a few hours, yeah. But if you need it for a week…”