Vince spoke up, frustrated that he still couldn’t see the faces of the people who held them captive.
“That was our float trip that was attacked! And you mean to say you didn’t have anything to do with it?”
“Why in the hell would we be in cahoots with the United Nations scum inside that infernal black chopper?” Amos replied sincerely.
“That’s the trouble with you Feds. Always jumpin’ to conclusions, without takin’ the time to get your facts straight.”
United Nations troops inside America and mysterious black helicopters — Vince was no stranger to the conspiracy freaks who actually believed there was a clandestine plot to take control of the U.S. government by imagined One World interests, and he probed most carefully.
“Look, I happened to see that chopper right before it went down. If you’re really telling the truth, what do you say if I was to lead you to the crash site? Then all of us could find out the true identities of the ones responsible for this act of cold-blooded murder. And if it turns out to be a United Nations operation, you’ve got my word I’ll be right there to serve the warrant that will close their doors forever.”
Chapter 23
The first hint that something extraordinary was occurring outside the hull was a slight flutter on the BQ-7’s waterfall display. Jaffers immediately pointed it out to Brad Bodzin, who hesitated only long enough to confirm that it wasn’t an anomaly, before grabbing the overhead handset to warn the control room.
“Conn, Sonar. We have a submerged contact, bearing zero four-three.
Designate Sierra Twelve, possible hostile submarine!”
As Control acknowledged this warning, Bodzin readjusted the fit of his headphones, and hurriedly addressed the auxiliary keyboard to isolate the narrowband processor. He filtered out the static as best he could, and had to increase the volume tenfold to hear a barely audible throbbing sound that caused his pulse to suddenly quicken.
“It appears to be headed on a direct collision course with the Rhode Island!” he shouted.
The unexpected, earsplitting ping of an active sonar pulse filled his headphones, and Bodzin reached forward to turn down the volume, all the while cursing in pain.
“Who the fuck lashed us?”
“I believe that was Sierra One’s collision-avoidance sonar, Sup,” offered Jaffers, also a victim of the excruciating lashing.
This observation was confirmed when an extended series of sonorous pings sounded from the direction of the Rhode Island. Bodzin dared to turn up the volume again, and he breathlessly listened as the active scan continuously quickened to such a degree that the hollow succession of individual pings sounded like a single entity.
“Damn it, they’re gonna hit!” Bodzin exclaimed.
The raw, grinding sound of metal on metal filled the seas, and Bodzin yanked back his headphones and addressed the intercom.
“Conn, Sonar. Sierra One has collided with Sierra Twelve! Initiating damage control, signature analysis.”
Chapter 24
Brittany was in the galley, drinking a club soda to ease her queasy stomach, when she first learned that an American Trident submarine had been the victim of an underwater collision with a yet unknown vessel, somewhere off the coast of Florida. It was only after rushing back into the Operations Team Area that she learned this Trident was the U.S.S. Rhode Island.
The Rhode Island was their Atlantic basin alert platform, armed with a lethal load of twenty-four Trident II D-5 missiles, each capable of carrying up to seven 300-kiloton Maneuverable Reentry Vehicle warheads. Because of the Rhode Island’s forward patrol area, it had been the same submarine that Iron Man One had passed an EAM to earlier, and the loss of this capable platform could drastically affect America’s strategic posture.
Brittany arrived in Operations just as the Chairman stormed in from the aft end of the 747, with Colonel Pritchard and Major Hewlett on his heels. Warner appeared to be furious, and he vented his anger and frustration beside Red’s workstation.
“This whole fucking situation is getting totally out of control.
Colonel, I need you to keep that line open with COMSUBLANT.
I want to know the second that we get a SITREP on the Rhode Island. And where the hell’s General Spencer?”
Red looked up from her console and efficiently answered, “Admiral Warner, I’ve got the General for you on line seven.”
As the Chairman strode over to the adjoining console and grabbed the red handset, Brittany met Red’s glance. They traded conspiratorial winks, while listening to Warner refocus his rage on Iron Man One’s CG.
“Absolutely not, Lowell! Until all the facts are in, I feel a move to DEFCON Three is totally unwarranted… Lowell, I’m well aware that she’s our Atlantic basin alert platform. But until we hear otherwise, we’ve got to presume that the Rhode Island’s still operational… I’ll keep that in mind. General… Very well. Out.”
The Chairman hung up the handset, and forcefully addressed his SIOP advisor.
“Major Hewlett, be informed that General Spencer recommends an immediate alert change to DEFCON Three. He’s substantiating this with the assumption that the Rhode Island was intentionally struck by a Russian attack sub. Since we still don’t know this fact for certain, I can’t in all good conscience agree to this provocative move, which could very well incite the very war we’re trying so hard to avoid.”
“And if we indeed learn that the Russians are responsible for this collision, sir?” asked the Marine, well aware that the entire Operations team was riveted on their conversation.
Warner paused in thought, and without bothering to issue a reply, he spoke instead to Red.
“Sergeant, it’s time to take the bull by the horns. Get me a secure line with the Russian Defense Ministry in the Kremlin. If anyone can get to the bottom of this mess, it’s General Alexi Zhukov.”
Chapter 25
“If I was a betting man,” said First Sergeant Sam Reed while kneeling down beside the assortment of footprints imprinted in the sandbar, “I’d say that they definitely stopped here for a fishing break. These tracks are still fresh. I doubt if they’re more than four hours old.”
“Since we’re at the southern end of the trophy trout management area, such a stop wouldn’t be out of the question,” said Jody Glickman.
Both Thomas Kellogg and Ted Callahan stood at the ranger’s side, and together they watched the efforts of the rest of their team. The seven john boats that had brought them down from the Greer access site were pulled up on the sand, with the Sappers exploring the woods on this side of the river and the MPs roaming the opposite bank.
“And here I always thought that Washington’s humidity was bad,” said Callahan, after wiping his soaked forehead with the back of his hand.
“If they’re out in that forest, I sure hope they’ve got plenty of shade and water.”
“My brother spent a couple of unforgettable years in Vietnam’s Rung Sat Special Zone,” revealed Thomas.
“Vince was able to survive that tropical hell, making the Ozarks a walk in the park.”
“Commander One, this is Commander Two. Over,” broke in Captain Jay Christian’s amplified voice over Callahan’s two-way.
“Commander Two, this is Commander One. Over,” Callahan replied into his radio’s transmitter.
“Commander One,” said Christian in a whisper.