Captain Booker Dunbar was sitting on the bridge when he received the message that Sukudo was on his way up. Dunbar was a well-kept fifty-eight years old. He was lean with a good bit of muscle left on his frame and graying temples.
“Admiral on the bridge,” squawked the ship’s XO as the presence surprised him. Everyone snapped to attention except Booker.
“Why the hell do you torment me like this?” was Booker’s greeting.
“I can’t get enough of you, Book,” replied the admiral.
They were glad to see each other and acted like the old friends they were. Booker knew that the unscheduled stop had to be of some importance, and he quickly offered his cabin. The men made their way back through CIC to the captain’s quarters.
Booker had two rooms. One was a functioning office, small yet pleasant. The other held his bunk, head, and shower. He made Sukudo comfortable and poured him a glass of single malt scotch, neat.
“Just what I need,” Sukudo said with grin.
“Yeah. I’ve never known you to turn down a drink. I’ll take one, too, because I know you’ll tell me bad news.” Booker read him perfectly.
“Why bad news?” Sukudo loved the man because he was the most arrogant officer in the navy. Unfortunately, it also kept him from advancing to another ship. Sukudo suspected Booker liked it that way.
“Because I’m headed home. You come unannounced at a time when most of my crew has taken shore leave, and you never turn down a shot of scotch when you have something irksome to report.”
Sukudo laughed. “You pegged it.”
Dunbar was looking forward to going home, but he was about to swallow a bitter pill. Even given by a friend it was bitter. “Just hand it to me straight, Ken. You know I don’t like to fuck around.”
Sukudo’s mood changed. “Okay, Book. I need the Toledo to do a few circles in the Norwegian Sea and the Arctic Ocean before you head back.”
Dunbar wanted to whine for good fun, but he could tell that his friend was speaking of something serious. “Are these orders from fleet?”
“No,” he responded. “Strictly a favor.”
“Damn big favor to send a multibillion-dollar warship north with the icebergs. Very dangerous. I’d need a good reason to be up there.”
“You want the truth or a reason?”
“Give me what you think I deserve.” Dunbar got the message that it was something that fell in the gray area of any report. That made him apprehensive.
“Here goes.” Sukudo sighed. “Some wild man in Russia is going to steal a nuclear submarine and sell it to a country in the Middle East.”
“A sub that could launch a missile?”
Sukudo nodded.
“Fuck me. Who thinks up shit like that? Crazy.”
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“Who’s involved?”
“Can’t say. I need a ship to kind of patrol and see if any subs sneak over the top of Norway. You’ve got some AWACs and helicopters that need a little practice, don’t you?”
“Oh, we could always use the practice,” Dunbar said sarcastically. “I think that a snap inspection of my ship finds it wanting, and as punishment, it should be sent to practice submerged vessel reconnaissance for about five days up north.”
It was Sukudo’s answer. Dunbar realized the dangers involved, but he also knew that this was an operation that was out of the ordinary. On paper, it had to be textbook, but the motives were completely different.
“That sounds exactly like a report I was going to write.” Sukudo smiled at the thinking.
“Let’s make sure that it doesn’t stay on any report,” Dunbar warned. He did not want another blemish on his record. He was near retirement, so it didn’t matter that much. He was going out in his position, so he didn’t have to worry about anything keeping him from climbing the ladder. Still, he didn’t like the idea of his ship being reprimanded. It would provide more fodder for other captains to scoff at him. “Now go and inspect the ship.”
“I already have,” said Sukudo. “It’s terrible. Your ship seems lax, Captain. I suggest some more exercises.”
“I’ll see they get it, Admiral.” Dunbar flipped the intercom to the bridge. “Recall the crew and prepare to weigh anchor.”
“Aye sir,” replied the XO over the box.
“Care for another drink, Ken?”
“Please. You always have the best scotch.”
Dunbar poured. “Tell me, Admiral. What am I supposed to do if we locate one of these ships hightailing it south?”
“Call me, Book. Just call me.”
By now, O’Neil and McLeary had become fast friends with Josh Brand. They gave him a tour of the ship, which eased his notions of implosion, and he, in turn, demonstrated ODIS when the War Eagle rose to a depth of three hundred. The two were intrigued by ODIS. So much so that Josh found himself at a loss for explanations when barraged with their questions. The questions mainly came when ODIS was up and running. Now was one of those times.
O’Neil was the worse of the two. “How does ODIS coordinate all those satellites so none of them get mixed up in their orbits?”
“Each satellite acts as a relay to the next, feeding it information of the pathway around the earth. I have one guide satellite, and the rest follow. Depending on which satellite is next to the action, that’s the one I activate as my guide. It relays to the rest the new flight pattern, and the pack follows. I link up with whatever satellite is over the area we want to look at.”
It was more difficult than it sounded. Recalling ODIS completely to the Barents Sea took a lot of patience. Luckily, it seemed to be falling into place. The picture fizzled a bit, but there was the Barents, big and black, on the screen. Four red signatures registered the Russian destroyers. They seemed to be running their familiar patrol. “Nothing yet.”
Lincoln Dowl, the War Eagle’s XO, poked his head in the RRCC. “Going to take her down in a minute, Captain Brand.”
“Thanks,” he replied.
McLeary, trying to size up the machine, made an effective observation. “I notice that your picture seems a little fuzzy.”
“It’ll have to do as long as we stay underwater.” Josh began securing his equipment. “I don’t have time to source the problem.”
“Not that I know shit about your setup, but I do know that if the receiver operated off a larger area, you could reduce a lot of your noise problems on the screen.” McLeary didn’t want to overstep his bounds, but he thought Josh might be open to a suggestion.
“How’s that?” Josh wasn’t a techno-geek, so he listened.
“Well, if this unit operates on ELF bands like our radios do, then the only difference is the encoding and decoding of material. We do audio while you do visual. Now your portable receiver is set up for an antenna capturing ELF visual data. The ship’s antenna you’ve tapped into is designed for ELF audio data. Your system and our antenna may be compatible, but they may not match.”
This intrigued Josh. He began to see where McLeary was going with it.
“If we could enhance our antenna to capture more of your visual data, then you would get a better picture. I think.”
O’Neil butted in. “But we don’t even know the design for one of these things. Do you, Josh?”
Josh shook his head.
McLeary kept on. “We do know that it works off our antenna. So let’s enhance that data point, but only that. I don’t want anything happening to RRCC.”
“I’m up for it,” Josh responded. “Just point the way.”
“What I’m thinking of is not too complicated. It involves making the entire ship a receiver for your unit.” McLeary was beginning to get excited.