She was tempted to put the confrontation down to the natural tension being felt by every crew member aboard the Obama, but her former cop instincts told her there was something further at play here. She decided to use her rank to try and defuse the situation but Davids wasn't buying. "I'd like to remind you of my rank, seaman," she pointed out.
It wasn't working. "Chief Warrant Officer," he sneered. "Appointed by the captain. Won't wash, back at base. It has to be by presidential approval."
Hobbs wondered how he knew that. He was partially right, but aboard a US nuclear sub at war, a commander's decision was watertight and as good as any presidential approval. Base would likely approve their commander's decision. They gave their commanders a lot of latitude in the field and didn't like to be seen as undermining their officer's decisions. It could underpin morale, and the Navy were big on morale.
She knew suddenly that he was her man. With help from Agent Waters she later placed him under arrest for murder and sabotage.
Davids said nothing as handcuffs were placed on his wrists and he was apprised of his rights.
CHAPTER 19
"Okay, Davids… what's the story? Why did you do it?"
Davids' thin face was crestfallen. "My wife," he explained lamely.
"Your wife?" Grant's voice was harsh. "How does she come into it?"
"She's Korean, as you know. Not from the south, but the north. They were holding her family to ransom. I had no choice."
"Well," Grant said sadly. "You've left me with no choice, Davids. I'll have to convene a court martial. We're at war, so you'll likely know the penalty."
"Death?" Davids' voice was very quiet.
"Death," Grant confirmed. "By firing squad."
The Captain's Mast was held in the long wardroom. The three judges in the matter were led by Russell, and assisting him was his number one Lieutenant Commander Stephen Pirman and Chief Cobb.
The prosecution team was led by Agent Frank Waters, ably assisted by Chief Warrant Officer Jennifer Hobbs. Lieutenant Ed Rawlings who had once studied for the bar was persuaded to act as defence counsel and he was assisted by two seamen who also had a legal background, one of whom had been heavily involved in trade unions and was a good negotiator.
The prisoner, John Davids, was brought in, his hands handcuffed behind him, which Grant ordered removed as proceedings got underway.
It followed standard procedure, very similar to a court on the mainland. Evidence was sifted through and various witnesses testified under oath. In the end, Davids was found guilty and sentence was pronounced.
Waters had volunteered for that particular task, but Grant had curtly overruled that. "The Navy looks after its own, Mister Waters," he stated flatly. "Through good and bad."
Waters hadn't argued. It was a dirty job anyway.
The damage inflicted from a T80 nuclear warhead depended on a number of different factors, including the weather at the time of the launch. It depended too on the yield of the warhead which could contain a variable amount of between 5 and 150 kilotons of TNT. The weapon itself was a W80 Model 0, commonly referred to as a Mod 0, specifically designed for use with Tomahawk missiles.
In order to launch the missiles, the Obama had to retreat to a safe distance, otherwise it could theoretically have been damaged in the initial blast. For only the second time in its history, the US had been forced to deploy nuclear weaponry against an enemy state. The first occasions had been the atomic bombs against Hiroshima and Nagasaki in Japan at the end of World War 11.
Weapons had changed a lot since then, and were now far more destructive.
There were a number of different outcomes with a nuclear explosion. An initial flash, like lightening, but brighter by a long shot. The blast itself vaporized everything close by and depended on where the missile exploded, either at sea level or in the air. Following on from the blast, there were further effects from thermal, ionizing and residual radiation.
The Obama's main targets included the submarine bases at Mayangdo and Ch'aho and Pyongyang itself.
After the fallout from the nuclear launch, they hadn't been left alone. The North Koreans had thrown everything they had at them, and had come out of their bases like locusts actively pinging away with their sonars and dropping depth charges that at times had been quite close.
The Obama had been lucky.
Further orders had come through from Comsubpac to launch all remaining Tomahawks at designated targets that included naval and air assets and an oil refinery. They were also ordered to use their torpedoes against enemy shipping and submarines as they sought fit. It was all out war and it wasn't pretty.
No quarter was given.
They were unable to retaliate with nuclear weapons as their bases had been wiped out, and that really left only one option: talks.
Having seen the damage inflicted, the Koreans had no stomach for further nuclear exchanges.
Grant's eyes were grim as he watched Davids being led from below to face a firing squad of eight crew members of the Obama. He hadn't wanted this, and he brooded about the events of the past few days. He wondered why the death of one man was bothering him as much as the almost certain death of millions from the T80 warheads. He scowled.
Up to now, he had never questioned his choice of a career in the navy. He had always loved the sea, even as a young boy.
Not surprisingly, there had been few volunteers for the firing party duty. Grant had ordered Pirman to arrange lots and the crews' names were put into a hat.
The execution took place on the forward deck of the Virginia. Davids was hustled up from below as soon as the Obama had surfaced. Hobbs was one of the firing party.
Davids was blindfolded and stood a few feet from his executioners. It was carried out with military precision.
The body of the killer keeled over before the echo of the shots had died away.
CHAPTER 20
It was a very subdued crew that took the Obama home at the end of its patrol.
Normally high spirits abounded on return legs as crew members looked forward to reunions with family members, but the events of the past few weeks had shaken them to the core, and they felt numb and powerless as they made their way back across the Pacific Deeps.
The submarine was traveling on the surface at high speed, Grant's orders.
In the control room below Pirman stretched his muscles and replied to a question from Waters.
"Yes, sir. The captain is still on the bridge manning the watch. He's acting strange. Won't talk to anyone and says he just wants to be left alone."
"Permission to join him on the bridge?"
Pirman looked at him, intuitively guessing at the reason behind the request. "Think it will do any good, Agent Waters?"
"I'd like to try."
"Permission granted."
Waters nodded at Pirman and took the steel steps leading to the conning tower. He was wearing his orange flotation suit and he looked every inch a seasoned submariner.
The commander looked at him with bleak eyes. Waters coughed nervously looking around at the vast expanse of ocean.
"Captain," Waters began. "I know we've had our ups and downs, and haven't always seen eye to eye, but I don't think you should be doing this to yourself."