“Okay, then,” Klugendorf said, apparently satisfied.
Pacino glanced at Shingles and Hogshead, who were both studiously and calmly looking at the screen. VP Chushi was frowning, a dark expression on her face. Perhaps she sensed where this was leading.
Carlucci changed the slide again. A green line appeared, extending northeastward along the east coast of Africa to the Arabian Sea and into the Gulf of Oman.
“This is the track of our asset,” Catardi said, “the Block IV Virginia-class project submarine USS Vermont.”
The screen changed to show a picture of a Virginia-class submarine on the surface, the bow wave breaking at her sail as she plowed through the waves, an American flag flapping on a pole on the conning tower.
The screen changed again to a view of the Gulf of Oman, where the green line moved toward the Strait of Hormuz and touched the red line that showed the outbound Panther’s movement.
“This is where the operation will start,” Catardi said.
“What is the operation?” Chushi asked, a tone of suspicion in her voice.
Catardi paused for a moment, glanced at the president, then looked at the vice president. “We intend to steal the Panther.”
Through the sudden din of the loud response of the cabinet members to Catardi’s statement, Pacino could hear the shrill voice of Karen Chushi saying, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
18
“Quiet, please, everyone,” President Carlucci said. The side of the room toward the exterior door with the VP and cabinet members had broken into loud chaos a moment before. The other side, by the fireplace, with Pacino, the CIA officers and the admirals, had remained quiet, all of them still in their seats. “Let me switch on a short video of how this will work.”
A video clip rolled on the large flatscreen, the operation of the USS Vermont in its attempt to steal the narco-sub in the Caribbean Sea. Pacino had never seen it before, and was startled to see his own son acting as the approach officer, guided and coached by a stunningly beautiful female lieutenant commander. He watched as the control room battlestations crew made the decision to launch the EMP cruise missile, and stole a glance at Chushi, Klugendorf and Hogshead, who were all frowning. They all watched attentively as the SEALs locked out and got to the deck of the submerged target submarine, immobilized it, then tried to take it over. The clip ended with the SEAL commander hurriedly evacuating the sub at the conning tower hatch and the periscope view of the narco-sub as it scuttled itself and sank.
Carlucci nodded at Vice Admiral Catardi. “Thank you, Admiral. I wonder if Admiral Taylor could say a few words about why this upcoming operation will succeed when the narco-sub operation didn’t.”
Jehoshaphat Taylor stood. “Thank you, Mister President. The only real difference between the operation to hijack the Panther and the narco-sub is that the Panther will be operated by a human crew.”
“You’re sure?” the VP asked.
“We had almost no intel on the cartel operating the narco-sub,” Margo Allende said in her smooth Georgia accent. “Our intelligence money is better spent watching the Iranians, North Koreans, Russians and Chinese. And we’ve done our due diligence on this Panther. The crew will be human, I promise you.”
“So what happens after you get this sub to come to the surface? Are you going to kill the crew?” Klugendorf asked.
“That’s not the plan,” Taylor answered. “We prefer non-lethal tools. Shotgun shells and bullets, according to Admiral Catardi here, are considered bad for submarine equipment. We’ll leave the crew in a life raft, give them rations and a distress beacon.”
“Okay then,” Klugendorf said, satisfied.
Odds were, Pacino thought, non-lethal means wouldn’t be enough, but maybe Taylor’s men would prevail without shooting. Catardi’s concern was legitimate. A bullet in the ship control console could ruin the whole plan. Pacino noted that Taylor left out the fact that the emergency beacon would be designed to be inert for 48 hours, and only then broadcast the distress signal, allowing the hijacked Panther to clear datum and exit the area.
“After that,” Catardi said, standing as Taylor sat back down, “a small crew from the Vermont will cross over to man the Panther. They’ll drive it to our Bahamas Atlantic Undersea Test and Evaluation Center, AUTEC. Sort of the Navy’s version of Area 51, if you will.” The display screen zoomed out from the Indian Ocean, the globe turned and the view zoomed back in to the Bahamas to an overhead shot of the DynaCorp / Navy test facility at the barren Bahaman island labeled Andros Island. “We’ll take the reactor apart here and study it.”
“Are you planning on testing this reactor when the Panther is at sea? On the way to this test facility?” Bret Hogshead asked.
“Not on the run from the Indian Ocean, Mr. Secretary,” Catardi said, addressing the Secretary of War. “We’ll keep the reactor shut down and inert and use the batteries and snorkel on the diesel to get the ship back to AUTEC, so it will be a long, slow — but safe — voyage. After we examine it, we will get a test crew and take it out into the deep central Atlantic and test it there. I’m sure we’ll have the same worries as the Russians. We don’t want this thing exploding in the Bahamas. That would impact the tourist industry for a season or two. We’re still trying to figure out how to select the test crew, since the risk is so high.”
“So that brings us to the present moment,” Carlucci said, standing. “Thank you again, Admiral,” he nodded to Carlucci. The screen darkened, then lit up with a view of the eastern Gulf of Oman. “This is a live view from a Predator drone looking down on the approximate area of where this operation will commence. But we’re not exactly certain of when or exactly where the operation will happen, so this drone will be orbiting at a high altitude and looking for signs of a surfacing submarine. You’re free to take a break or go back to your cabin and grab a nap. We’ll call your room when we detect action, or you can stay here and wait for this to happen in real time.”
“Mr. President,” Karen Chushi said, standing and smoothing out her dress, “I and Secretary Klugendorf, Secretary Hogshead and Secretary Shingles would like a private word with you.” She turned to the admirals, Pacino and the CIA officers. “Could we have the room, please?”
Pacino left and walked slowly back toward Holly Lodge. Rob Catardi fell in step beside him. Once they got there, Pacino motioned Catardi into Holly Lodge’s special compartmented information facility, a more conventional conference room that resembled a rustic version of the White House Situation Room. “We didn’t even get to the issue of a hostile opposition force,” Pacino said, turning on the screen and selecting the Predator drone view, which still just showed empty, unremarkable ocean. “Wait till Chushi gets word that Carlucci already gave Vermont permission to release weapons as deemed necessary to succeed.”