I was nothing more than window dressing.
Nothing would be broadcast over the air that now wasn’t directly approved by the crazy little man himself. A modern day Stalin or Lenin seems to be where we’re heading with this man.
The president continued, “We want to be friends with NATO and America and find it puzzling that they would provocatively place military assets so close to our lands. We are the largest country in the world and want peace but if someone attacks us, like they did in World War II, then we will defend ourselves and prevail!”
I pretend to be pleased with this, “I’m sure our listeners will be happy to know you have spent so much time working to protect the people of Russia from NATO and American aggression.”
“The people of our great civilization must now prepare for the worst. You must now stock up on food and water and prepare for maybe not having electricity or heat. I shall meet with NATO and the Americans to head off any possible conflict. But rest assured if they want to attack us we shall defend our people.”
Chills went up and then back down my spine. Is this madman trying to provoke a war?
Bokan Mountain, Alaska
Christmas Eve
It was dusk and it was only 4:00 p.m.! The days are short and the nights are long and cold in an Alaskan winter.
I ran back to Jennifer with the only thing I could quickly find:
Ferns.
I hope she’s still alive.
As I peek into the log, I’m met face to face with her Glock.
Yep, she’s alive.
“Probably won’t fire anyway,” I joke.
“Let’s play Russian roulette and find out?” says Jennifer.
“Russian roulette with a Glock? That I want to see.”
I now realize she’s covered herself with moss and all of her clothes are neatly folded nearby.
“Me Tarzan, you Jennifer?” I joke.
She’s not amused.
“No? Doesn’t work for you?” I say.
What the hell was I thinking?
I reach into my pocket and pull out my Glock.
“I give the Glocks about a ninety percent chance of firing.”
Jennifer playfully points her gun in my general direction and says,
“Let’s find out.”
I push the gun aside and get serious,
How’s the wound?”
“I think it stopped bleeding,” says Jennifer as she looks at my ferns.
“Plan on making a call with those?”
I ignore her, “There’s nothing around here. They must have a jamming device on the mountain.”
Jennifer confidently says, “No. No way. How would they get it up there? Unless…”
“Unless what? I ask.
“Unless that Russian sub is closer than we think.” Jennifer continues, “I blame myself. I should’ve turned our boat around as soon as Jack Tanner told me the story. Thanks to me, Jack and Mike are dead.”
“Don’t blame yourself.”
“You’re the one ta talk,” she says accusingly.
“Those are definitely Russian Special Forces. I overheard them speaking Russian. I didn’t show you but there were twenty-two suitcases on that barge filled with at least one million dollars each.”
Jennifer is truly shocked,
“What?” Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was trying to when we played: Shoot the large yellow targets!”
Jennifer is thinking but all that comes out is:
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of this.”
“Your office will know you’re missing, right?”
Jennifer sighs, “Probably not. I was supposed to go to the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge for a month. They might think I left early.”
“Aren’t you suppose to check in after field work?” I ask.
“Ya, but this is Alaska. Things are a bit more casual up here. People go away for weeks. Our best chance is with that SAT phone.”
I think for a minute, “You told the harbor master where we are, right?”
“This is Ketchikan and we’re the FBI. I didn’t tell anyone anything,” says Jennifer.
“Well only three things can happen here.”
“One: We die.”
“Two: We’re captured.”
“Three: We escape!”
“I prefer option number three!”
Jennifer, “Oh you might escape. I’ll be dead by morning.”
I look at her body that is now partially uncovered by moss.
“Don’t touch the moss. Find your own moss.”
I take off my shirt and pull a big chunk of moss off the inside of the tree.
I really am cold.
I start to shiver.
“All right, come over here but you try anything, I’ll put a bullet in you.”
I sarcastically say, “What do I gotta lose, we’ll be dead by morning.”
National Security Agency (NSA)
Fort Meade, MD
Christmas Eve
Fred is comfortably eating his tuna fish sandwich, again, as he carefully reviews his screen.
“Jerry come here.”
Jerry walks over.
“What is it now?”
“TK-20 looks now to be half apart with its nuclear reactor missing.”
“I thought we decided that wasn’t TK-20,” says Jerry.
“No, I think it is. They had just dismantled so much then pulled it into that new covered dry dock to take out the reactor. By the time they pulled it back here we thought it was another sub.”
“So what d’ya want from me?”
“I enlarged the SAT images as much as possible. COMINT gave me the an old KH-11 satellite and I can’t make the image resolution clearer but does that look like a Typhoon class sub tail sticking out of that covered port to you?”
Jerry can clearly see TK-20’s tail sticking out of a covered port but they can’t see anything else.
“Ya, looks like it. But see here the tail on the sub is missing, so it’s right there.”
“Does that make sense to you? How is just the tail in the water floating?”
“You’re the expert. I’m just the tech guy,” says Jerry as he eyes Fred’s half eaten tuna fish sandwich. Without another thought and while not looking at Jerry, Fred simply hands Jerry his sandwich as they both continue to gaze at the blurry images.
Jerry finally stands up saying, “Oh well, it’s Christmas Eve. What ya say we go home?”
Fred checks his government issued plastic watch he got at his twenty-year anniversary, “Jeez, I didn’t realize it was that late. I probably should pull from some other sats.”
“Have fun,” says Jerry as he stands to leave.
“I’m going home. Merry Christmas, Fred!”
Jerry leaves.
Not wanting to be the only idiot in the office on Christmas Eve, Fred collects his things, pauses one more time to take a long look at his computer, then leaves his tiny little cubicle.
USS Alaska
Arctic Ocean
Tom Watson’s Diary
Christmas Morning
Tom Watson,
Chief Communications Officer’s Log,
USS Alaska
08:00
What I’m about to do I really, really do not want to do.
As I walk down the hall of the USS Alaska, the commander’s door seemed fifty feet tall.
I didn’t want to knock.
Maybe I’ll just go back to my bunk.
Let someone else worry about this.
I turned around and started to walk away and then stopped again.