“He wouldn’t have a chance in hell, sir.”
“So let’s assume that the Colorado is alive and heading someplace besides the Mediterranean. If Slate is sly enough to fake a Trident’s death, then he’s smart enough to change direction on us.”
“I follow you, sir, but the world is a big place.”
“I wouldn’t put it beyond him to think he can shoot between Greenland and Iceland, or between Iceland and the United Kingdom, without being heard.”
“At least six nations patrol the G-I-UK Gap, sir, and they have hydrophones strung across the ocean floor from Greenland to France.”
Parks inhaled through his nostrils, but Brody had masked his hangover breath with a mint. After dumping his whisky, Brody thought, it would be the last time on the Miami he’d have to worry about it.
“But if no one is looking,” Brody said, “then the G-I-UK Gap becomes possible for a Trident, don’t you think?”
“I’ll buy that, sir. But why the Gap? There’s no place to go up there, except NATO nations and Russia.”
“Unless he’s going for the polar ice cap.”
“It’s never been done by a Trident, sir.”
“Slate’s brilliant. Heck, he’s got us so turned around we don’t even know if he’s alive. I wouldn’t put an under-ice passage beyond him.”
As Grant Mercer stepped into a waterfront bar in Nome, Alaska, a heavyset native bartender eyed him.
“Where’re you from, son?” the man asked.
“I travel a lot,” Mercer said.
“You don’t look like a hunter or a tourist. What brings you here?”
“I need a boat,” Mercer said. “Something that can survive open ocean and hold supplies for four men for two weeks. Something that can make around twenty knots.”
“You’re asking a lot. What do you need it for?”
“I’m with the Natural Resources Defense Council,” Mercer said. “Three of my associates are going to join me with sonar equipment to spy on the U.S. Navy. They’re testing low frequency active sonar systems, but they’re breaking the law. And they’re deafening whales.”
“Deafening whales?”
Mercer never understood the fuss about dolphins and tuna in humanity’s effort to feed itself and struggled to feign indignation.
“It’s very serious. And it’s not just whales, but they get the worst of it. The Navy is bombarding marine life with noise levels millions of times stronger than rock concerts. Do you know what that does to whales? It kills them, that’s what it does. They stop eating, they stop mating, they stop migrating. That’s a tragedy I hope to prevent,” Mercer said.
“I had no idea.”
“Few people do. But my team’s going to catch the Navy in the act.”
“Last year’s fishing season was real bad,” the man said. “I know a few guys who are selling.”
CHAPTER 24
Sergeant Kao Yat-sen, the Taiwanese veteran leading half a dozen young commandos aboard the Colorado on his nation’s greatest mission, stared at a stone image in the mirror. His skin looked worn, his eyes hollow. Time had cut lines into his face, as did the pain he hid behind it.
As Kao leaned forward, he felt the grating burn of arthritis in the vertebrae broken in a parachuting accident decades ago. Raising a toothbrush to his mouth, he could feel the sting in a shoulder long ago dislocated by a premature C-4 charge detonation.
Pain reminded him of mortality, but he did not fear death. He accepted that the odds favored him dying on the Colorado, and he knew he would not be the only casualty.
He replayed in his mind a meeting he had had with the Minister of Defense and a most offensive Lieutenant Commander Lin, the commanding officer of the Taiwanese stealth patrol craft, Tai Chiang.
The meeting had taken place weeks earlier, but it had affected Kao so intensely that it still played through his mind.
Pierre Renard, the Minister’s trusted advisor, had just outlined a plan to steal American nuclear weapons. Kao, the Minister, and Commander Lin had had to modify the Frenchman’s plan, but they had found it workable. Renard had just departed, and charts marking key events in the plan to steal the Colorado still covered the table.
Sergeant Kao watched the Tai Chiang’s commanding officer glare at the aging and stressed Minister.
“Sir, what are you paying this man?” Lin asked.
The question’s aggressiveness startled Kao.
“I know of your father, Lin,” the Minister said. “He is a powerful man in the financial world. I’m sure he trained you to think of financial risk and reward.”
“Indeed,” Lin said.
“The total price is one hundred and twenty million U.S. dollars,” the Minister said. “I have paid ten percent already. I will pay an additional forty percent when Kao informs me that he has control of the submarine in the Atlantic Ocean, and the rest once the weapons are aboard your ship.”
“Sir, the remaining one hundred and eight million U.S. dollars would be better spent smuggling jet fuel to the island,” Lin said.
“The payments are trivial compared to the reward.”
“But unnecessary. The Frenchman can command the ship. Why not kill the Americans once the submarine is at sea?”
Kao had seen brashness in the younger officers, but nothing as bold as challenging the top man in the military. He could no longer hold his tongue.
“I do not take killing lightly,” he said.
“And I cannot default on payments and expect results,” the Minister said.
“Then we can conserve half of our investment,” Lin said. “When my ship approaches the submarine for the rendezvous, Kao’s team can neutralize the Americans. And why not the Frenchman as well? This will enable us to save sixty million dollars and prevent five men from escaping with knowledge of this operation.”
“I value the Frenchman,” the Minister said. “He has already proven his worth by identifying a mole and enabling us to set this trap with your ship.”
“That was made possible by circumstances we shall not see again. The Frenchman is overvalued,” Lin said.
“Do not tell me how to value assets!”
Kao foresaw a showdown that his stressed Minister could ill afford. He wanted to silence the patrol craft’s commander with a knife, but he played peacemaker.
“I could make a judgment call,” Kao said. “I will understand the temperament of the men on that ship and will be able to judge the risk. I will place the situation under control prior to docking with the Tai Chiang.”
“Yes, very well,” the Minister said. “Kao will have final control over the fate of the Americans, but I want Renard returned to me as my advisor. Am I clear?”
Lin had ignored the Minister and met Kao’s glare.
“Kao makes the call on the Americans. The Frenchman returns. Am I clear?” the Minister said again.
“Perfectly,” Lin said, sneering.
As Kao marched through the teakwood lined passageway leading from the Minister’s antechamber, he heard the clap of Lin’s heels against the marble floor behind him. Kao wanted nothing to do with the commander of the Tai Chiang and outpaced him.
“Sergeant Kao!” Lin said.
Kao stopped.
“You do not approve of my ways?” Lin asked.
“I am in no position to pass judgment, sir.”
“Yet you do.”
Kao remained silent.
“You think I am overstepping my bounds, but you are wrong,” Lin said. “The Minister is poising us for failure, and I am not alone in this judgment. Many unit commanders believe that we have the superior forces necessary to overcome our lack of numbers. We must strike — offensively — while we have the resources. When the Minister’s strategy of endurance fails, there will be a movement to replace him.”