“Doc, I’ve been meaning to ask you — how are we going to manage detonating that bomb, and at the same time get far enough away to survive its blast?”
The elderly physician, reclining on the adjoining bunk, exhaled a deep breath before answering.
“I was hoping you’d bring that up, Sean. Me and Bernard talked it over while you were down in the bilges, and we came to the conclusion that to ensure that the device detonates properly, someone’s going to have to stay with it until it goes off. And we thought that it was only fitting that both Bernard and myself should be the ones to do this deed.”
“But that would be sheer suicide!” countered Sean.
“And what’s the Brotherhood to do afterward, when both of you are blown to a million pieces?”
“Hopefully, go on just like they are right now,” returned the physician calmly, “the only difference being that two of its senior officers will be martyred, and the enemy dealt an antagonizing blow that they’ll never be able to recover from.”
“But I thought we could hook up a remote control device with the timer from the VCR. That way the bomb will receive the charge it needs to explode, and all of us can be miles away on our way back home to celebrate.”
“The thought is tempting, lad. But this whole thing is just too important to trust to a mere timing mechanism.
Me and Bernard also agreed that it would be a waste of life to sacrifice all three of us. So we decided to stop at Ardrossan and drop you off.”
“I won’t hear of any such thing! If both of you are willing to see this thing out to the end, I am too. And I’ll be hearing no arguments otherwise!”
“You’re as pig-headed as that stubborn father of yours, Sean Lafferty. And it appears that the Brotherhood is about to have a trio of martyrs to venerate.”
Suddenly grasping the fact that his life would all too soon be over, Sean sat up in his bunk and gazed out into the blackness.
“I guess that will leave Marie as the IRB’s commander,” he observed thoughtfully “It appears so, lad. I have full confidence in her ability to handle the movement on her own. And she’ll certainly not have to worry about having a base of operations to mold the new shape of Ireland from. Because before we left County Caven, I drew up a codicil to my will bequeathing my beloved Cootehill House to her.”
“That was kind of you, Doc. Now if I only had something of value to leave for my parents.”
The physician responded passionately to this statement.
“But you have, lad! Don’t you see? You’re about to be giving them the greatest gift of all — a united Ireland!”
“You mean to say that all this food I’m eating comes from that little kitchen you showed me, and that you serve such meals even while underwater?
That’s simply amazing!”
Liam Lafferty made this observation while seated in the wardroom of the USS Bowfin. Before him was a full-course fried chicken dinner. Though he had been more frightened than hungry when the sailors initially led him down into the submarine, the Yanks’ pleasant companionship and the tempting aroma of. food changed all this.
“This chicken is delicious!” raved the grizzled fisherman as he bit into a steaming hot, juicy breast.
“And what’s that sweet red jelly made out of?”
“Cranberries,” explained Lieutenant Commander Ted Bauer, the Bowfin’s XO.
“In America, we like to serve it with poultry dishes, and it’s a staple of our Thanksgiving dinner.”
Liam spooned a mouthful of the tasty jelly and followed it with some gravy-laden mashed potatoes. On his second helping of biscuits and honey, he stopped eating long enough to comment, “If the lads back at the Rose-and-Thistle could only see me now! Here I am, cruising beneath the Irish Sea and eating like a king at the same time. Henry Morrison’s going to be beside himself with envy! I’ll have some more of that iced tea, if you please.”
The XO was getting a kick out of watching the Irishman indulge himself. Yet he prayed that the fisherman wouldn’t eat so much that he’d go and get himself sick.
“How would you like to go on that tour of the ship now, Mr. Lafferty?” asked the XO in an attempt to entice him away from the dinner table.
“But what about that pumpkin pie you mentioned?”
returned Liam.
“I’ll make certain Cooky locks up a piece with your name on it,” promised the Bowfin’s second-in-command.
On that conciliatory note, Liam plucked the last piece of white meat off the breast and mopped up the remaining gravy with a biscuit.
“I guess I could do with a little stretching of the old legs,” he added as he wiped his face and pushed his chair back from the table.
“Would you mind if I light up the old pipe while we take our stroll?”
“I don’t think that would be a problem, sir. Though you’ll have to extinguish it once we reach the reactor room.”
Hearing this, Liam’s eyes opened wide.
“Is that a nuclear-powered reactor you’re referring to, my friend?”
The XO nodded, and Liam vehemently shook his head.
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather skip that part of the tour. From what I understand, that nuclear radiation is awfully nasty stuff.”
“You needn’t worry about any radiation danger aboard the Bowfin, Mr. Lafferty. The ship’s reactor is encased in a lead vessel that makes it practically leak free. Besides, I was only going to show you its control console. But if you want to skip it altogether, how about if we go and take a look at the torpedo room?
We’ve got some fish up there that are really something to see.”
“You’re carrying fish on this vessel?” Liam asked.
The XO had to summon every ounce of self-control to keep from bursting into laughter as he responded.
“Mr. Lafferty, I guarantee that these fish are unlike any species you’ve ever laid eyes on before. In fact, in my book, they’re even deadlier than the great white shark.”
With his eyes open wide, Liam threw down his napkin and stood.
“Lead the way, Yank. This I’ve got to see!”
While the XO went about initiating the Irishman into the intricacies of underwater weaponry, the Bowfin’s CO hosted his own two guests in the ship’s control room. Captain William Foard was somewhat surprised when the orders came in from COMSUBLANT authorizing him to take the two foreign nationals on board. He also found his current mission somewhat puzzling. For all purposes, Commander Brad Mackenzie now had the authority to utilize the Bow/in as he saw fit. This was most unusual, and Foard could only suppose that the Nose officer had some high placed friends in the Pentagon.
Captain Foard was currently gathered around the ship’s chart table with Commander Mackenzie, or Mac, as he preferred to be called, and the Scotsman, Major Colin Stewart. They had a detailed bathymetric chart of the waters immediately outside the Firth of Clyde before them, and Foard was in the process of giving them the current status update.
“At this pace, we should be approaching the entrance to the Firth toward daybreak. Of course, all you have to do is say the word. Commander, and I can pull us off our present course and get us into the Clyde much sooner.”
Mac answered while studying the zigzagging blue line that showed their course northward since leaving the search site.
“I don’t think that’s necessary right now, Captain. Considering the agitated sea and the limited speed of the tug, I don’t really think they’re that far ahead of us. What do you think, Major?”
Colin Stewart pointed to the waters just east of Arran Island.
“Even at half speed, they shouldn’t be much further than here. Yet since it’s their course that’s still the point, I feel our current time-consuming search pattern is more than justified.”