“That’s true, Pappy. It’s a sad day when people let hate overcome love of their fellow man. Like Sagan said, we’re all on this little insignificant speck of dust together, and all we can think about is killing each other.”
“Anyway, after the Palestinian elections, Hamas leaders made a tour of Muslim countries, and they were welcomed everywhere as if they were respectable national leaders. All I could think was that if the leaders of any of those Muslim countries had had any guts at all, they would have arrested them on the spot as terrorists and made a statement to the world that radical Islam must stop.”
“Without some prodding, though, that isn’t likely to happen,” said George. “That’s why we’re establishing a deterrent to future terrorism that also provides a real incentive for mainstream Muslims to get involved.”
“Well, it’s absolutely needed,” said Leona. “But either way, you know both sides will do their utmost to stop us. If they don’t sink us, they’ll have spies and intelligence agents searching for us everywhere.”
George shook his head in agreement. “I know. They’re afraid of change even though the path they are on is the path of suicide. But in all fairness, they don’t know our intentions yet. They’ve probably seen too many James Bond movies, and they think we’re about to hold the world at ransom.”
“Hey, now there’s an idea. A little extra cash wouldn’t hurt!” joked Pappy.
“Very funny, Pappy.”
“Well if we told them our intentions, do you think it would take some of the heat off?” asked Leona.
“I doubt it,” George responded. “I think it’s going to take them years to get used to the idea. But we’ll let them know soon enough — at the time and in the manner of our choosing.”
Chapter 40
Moving at twenty knots, the Louisiana could not safely launch fighters. She needed to slow below ten knots to ensure a stable takeoff and landing. But even if they could launch, surveillance operations were not practical with the submarine moving at this speed because any fighter searching well astern of the Louisiana would have to engage its SQID drive to catch up. Although they were in the wide-open South Pacific, the captain did not want to risk making that much noise.
At the Kermandec Trench—10,047 meters (32,962 feet) deep — a subterranean ridge rises on the western side, breaks the surface, and forms a series of islands. About twelve hours out, the Louisiana slowed to eight knots and sent two fighters out on patrol, one westward to clear the way ahead and one eastward to clear their baffles astern.
“Captain, we’ve got trouble!” The words were spoken by Lieutenant Johnson, the pilot of the sub-fighter sent eastward to clear their baffles.
“What’s the problem, Lieutenant?”
“Sir, we searched back along our track, and at a maximum range we heard a submarine to the east cavitating heavily. It was definitely a nuke-powered attack boat, probably a Virginia- class SSN. She’s on our tail, sir!”
The captain smiled a faint smile. “Must be the Texas. How far out is she?”
“Based on our distance at the time and the faintness of the signal, I would say about ten hours.”
“Good job,” said the captain. Turning to the XO, he ordered, “All ahead flank.”
“Flank, sir?” asked the XO. “We’ll be cavitating…”
“You heard me, XO.”
“Navigator,” the captain continued, “when you get to the Kermandec Trench, turn north and follow the trench. The Kermandec Islands, just to the west of the trench, are thirteen small, uninhabited islands. When we get abeam the ninth island from the south, we’ll stop and go silent. I’ll give you the coordinates. We’ll offload the remaining warheads and teams. Further transportation has been prearranged. We’ve got six more teams and thirty more warheads to get off of here as quickly as possible. From the sounds of it, our friends are no more than ten hours behind us. I want everybody off in four hours. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good, let’s go. I want everything pre-positioned.”
Chapter 41
George sat alone in his small, cramped stateroom reading excerpts from the world’s news broadcasts. The world’s Muslim nations, particularly Arab nations, were lashing out at the United States and other Western powers. They accused them of complicity and intentionally allowing the Louisiana to remain at large. In response, the U.S., Britain, Russia, and China were redeploying their forces to cover additional areas of the globe.
A knock came at the door.
“Yes?”
“It’s Petty Officer Harris, Captain. I have your reports.” George and Leona were very careful to maintain a formal relationship when other crewmembers could be within easy earshot. They were proud that they had been able to pull it off. No one seemed the slightest bit suspicious.
“Certainly,” George responded as he opened the door.
Leona came in and closed the door behind her. “George, may I talk to you?”
George gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek as he whispered in her ear, “You certainly know how to communicate with me, but I wouldn’t exactly call it talking.”
“No, silly, I’m not talking about that. I want to talk to you about our mission. There’s something that’s bothering me.”
“Sure. What’s on your mind?” George looked at her intently trying to discern whether she was having second thoughts about signing on for the mission. A nervous knot began to form in the pit of his stomach.
“Well first, let me say this has nothing to do with the basic premise of the mission itself. I’m still glad we’re doing it, and I am still glad I’m here.”
“I’m certainly glad to hear that!” The knot was starting to loosen in George’s stomach.
“My question is not whether we are doing the right thing, it’s more like, are we doing enough?”
“You want to do more?”
“Well, we say we will carry out our mission if radical Muslims carry out another terrorist attack with a weapon of mass destruction. So what happens if, instead, they carry out thousands and thousands of bombings with conventional explosives? It seems to me that when a suicide bomber straps on a belt loaded with explosives, walks into a crowded restaurant or nightclub, and blows himself up, the people who die in that explosion are just as innocent as the people who died in Washington, and they’re just as dead.”
“That’s true.”
“You know, I hear the terrorists take impressionable young teenagers, fill their heads with all sorts of propaganda, promise their families financial support, and maybe even drug these kids up and provide them with a prostitute their last night before sending them to their deaths. That’s wrong, too, but we’re not doing anything about that sort of attack.”
“You’re right. Our plan does not call for retaliation against any type of conventional attack. And there are several reasons.”
George paced the small stateroom looking for the right words to explain this policy to Leona. “First of all, I don’t think our plan would work to stop conventional attacks. Al-Qaeda is a dispersed, decentralized organization when it comes to attacks at that level. I don’t think there is any way the central leadership could prevent some local cell from carrying out a conventional attack. By stating that we would retaliate for a conventional attack we would pretty much be guaranteeing we would have to make the ultimate attack. I won’t put our people in a position of having to kill hundreds of thousands or even millions of people in retaliation for someone blowing himself up in a restaurant.”