“Captain, we have what looks like three holes blasted into the outer skin and then through the hull plates and into the hold. Two of the explosions meet to form the most dangerous hole. Not enough penetration damage to be a torpedo.”
“A mine, or three mines did it?” the captain asked on his handheld radio.
“Yes, sir, mines. The damage extends below our waterline. An engineer with me says he’d be against any forward motion of more than five knots.”
“Five knots?” Chen exploded. “At that rate it will take us months to get home.”
“We can go back to Athens, find a dock, and have emergency plates welded over the holes, then pump out the water and repair what interior damage we can.”
“Then can we make twenty knots?” Chen asked.
“Possibly. But we could run into trouble in port if the authorities insist on an inspection.”
“We are violating no international or maritime law by masquerading as a merchantman,” Chen said. He frowned at the sea, and for the first time sensed that the whole mission could be in jeopardy.
“How long on the missiles?” Chen asked.
“Our special engineers are working around the clock. So far we have the warheads separated from one of the missiles and the warheads prepared for shipment. They will need another week to complete the work.”
“We don’t have a week, Captain. Have the engineers pull the warheads out of the missiles. Tell them not to detach them from their rocket motors or their internal guidance systems. They will make a larger package that way, but still be workable. Get the emptied ICBM bodies out the loading hatch and overboard as soon as possible. We can hide the warheads if we must make a port. See how quickly the task can be done.
“During this time attempt exterior damage repair with welders over the side. We’ll turn and head back for Athens at four or five knots, whatever is practical.”
“Aye, aye. It will be done.” The captain hesitated. “You said you had a fallback plan.”
“Not yet. We aren’t out of options yet. Anyway, for the other plan, all of the warheads would have to be stripped of all rockets and guidance systems. We may not have time for that. Captain, let’s get moving with those engineers and turn the ship around for Athens.”
“Blake, good to see you too. Yes, I’m fine and your mother is fine and Ardith sends her love. Now, how the hell is this floating nuclear warhead salesroom problem coming along?”
Murdock grinned as he looked at his father, Charles Fitzhugh Murdock, ranking Congressman from the great state of Virginia.
“About the same,” Murdock replied. “Dead in the water. We don’t know what they’ll do next. Did they tell you, it’s a camouflaged five-hundred-foot destroyer of the Chinese Navy?”
“I heard that, yes. How did you let that one shipment of warheads get away to Afghanistan?”
“Sloppy work, I guess. How is Mom?”
“She’s fine, and busy. Well, not all that fine. We have her on some new arthritis medicine that seems to be helping. But she’s still working six to eight hours a day on her charity circuit.”
“Come on now, Dad. Tell me how you found me.”
“Easy. I called Don Stroh. He still owes me a few favors.”
“That’s cheating,” Murdock said, grinning. “I just wish I knew what kind of blackmail you have on Stroh. I could use it sometimes.”
“On the House National Security Committee we do have some clout. Then, too, I play some golf with Stroh’s boss at the Agency. One hand washes the other, you might say.”
“You must be here on a Congressional jaunt of some kind. Are we taxpayers getting our money’s worth out of this one, Dad?”
“Most certainly are. These warheads are a prime concern of the National Security Committee. We also advise the National Security Council in the White House. We want to be sure that this threat of nuclear blackmail is snuffed in the bud as fast as we can get the job done.”
“Now you’re even sounding like a Congressman, Dad. How long will you be here?”
“A couple of days. Came with two on my committee and three from the Senate Armed Forces Committee. We’re tremendously concerned.”
“So are we. We took care of the nine warheads in Libya. Now we’ve got fifty more to worry about.”
“You busy? Let’s go have dinner. I’ve been in Athens before and can show you an authentic Greek restaurant I think you’ll like.”
“Dinner? Dad, do you know what time it is?”
“Nope. My day clock is a bit disoriented after the long flight. Is it still dark outside?”
“It usually is at three A.M. I’ve got an 0930 meeting, which is about six hours from now. That’s exactly the amount of sleep I hope to get before I have to go talk with the admiral.”
“Yes. I understand deadlines. You need your sleep. I’ll catch a nap. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Murdock found his father an empty room, and the man dropped off to sleep before Blake had the door closed. The SEAL took off his shoes and shirt, then dropped into his bunk and slept.
The next morning, Murdock had a farmer’s breakfast, then made it to the meeting at the admiral’s office ten minutes early. He hadn’t seen his father. He shouldn’t have worried. His father was already talking with Admiral Tanning.
The meeting started precisely on time.
“Gentlemen, we have with us as an observer, Congressman Charles Murdock, who just happens to be Commander Murdock’s father, and also a ranking member of the House National Security Committee. Let’s proceed. The photos.”
An officer brought in grainy 8×10 photos of the side of a ship.
“This is the Chinese ship. She has three holes in her hull well toward the bow. Right now she’s dead in the water. This morning we have a new report from our AWACS plane. She has lifted her masts and antenna and is no longer trying to hide as a freighter. We don’t know what that means.”
“Is she still dead in the water, Admiral?”
“No, she’s making about five knots, and evidently is heading back toward Athens. We don’t know why.”
The admiral looked around the room. “Mr. Murdock. Evidently blowing off the screws did not work.”
“No, sir. Not when the ship kept moving at ten knots. Too dangerous.”
“What’s our next step?” the admiral asked.
General Archibald, who had been in on the first debriefing, was back again. He peaked his fingers, then ran them through his graying hair. “We watch her, of course. Can we challenge any ship that attempts to contact her to pick up a package?”
“We can, but international laws would be violated,” Admiral Tanning said. “We’re on the open sea here, even if it is in the Greek islands. Tricky on the legal angle.”
“Couldn’t we simply refuse to allow any helicopter to land on her deck?” Murdock asked.
“We have the choppers to chase them away, but that’s another act of war,” Admiral Tanning said. “If we do that we might as well go in with all of our assets and blow that destroyer out of the water. The international fallout would be the same.”
“They must not be ready to make a move yet,” Murdock said. “It takes some time to rip those nose cones off and take out the warheads and detach them from their rockets and guidance systems. That’s what they want, just the rawboned warheads.”
“How much time would that take?” Congressman Murdock asked.
“Depends how many engineers they have who know how to do it.”
They all looked at the admiral. He had the most clout of anyone present. Don Stroh coughed. The Congressman cleared his throat. Ed DeWitt stifled a yawn.
“We’ve talked a lot about what we can’t do,” the admiral said. “Who has a suggestion what we should do?”