USS MAHAN//
USS INDIANAPOLIS//
INFO CARSTRKGRU EIGHT//
SUBJ/SURFACE BLOCKADE TASKING/IMMEDIATE EXECUTE//
REF/A/RMG/ONI/241522Z FEB//
REF/B/RMG/USSOUTHCOM/241019Z FEB//
NARR/REF A IS OFFICE OF NAVAL INTELLIGENCE ASSESSMENT OF PROBABLE DPRK MISSILE DEPLOYMENTS ON THE ISLAND OF CUBA.//
NARR/REF B IS PINNACLE OPREP 3 NUCFLASH ISSUED BY U.S. SOUTHERN COMMAND FOLLOWING 240935Z NUCLEAR DETONATION IN CARIBBEAN SEA.//
1. (CONF) AS OUTLINED IN REF A, ONI IS EVALUATING THE PROBABILITY OF NORTH KOREAN MISSILES ON CUBAN SOIL. THE NUMBER AND TYPE OF WEAPONS ARE UNKNOWN AT THIS TIME, BUT COULD INCLUDE VARIANTS OF THE RODONG-2 AND/OR TAEPODONG-1 SHORT- TO INTERMEDIATE-RANGE BALLISTIC MISSILES, MOUNTED ON SELF-PROPELLED TRANSPORTER ERECTOR LAUNCHERS. BOTH OF THESE WEAPON DESIGNS ARE CAPABLE OF CARRYING NUCLEAR PAYLOADS.
2. (SECR) THE NUCLEAR DETONATION DESCRIBED IN REF B OCCURRED DURING A FAST ROPE BOARDING OF THE MV ARANELLA, A NONCOMPLIANT MERCHANT VESSEL EN ROUTE FROM WONSAN NORTH KOREA TO SANTIAGO DE CUBA. TEN (1O) MEMBERS OF SEAL TEAM TWO WERE ABOARD MV ARANELLA AT THE TIME, ENGAGED IN CLOSE-QUARTERS COMBAT WITH AN UNIDENTIFIED MILITARY CONTINGENT, TENTATIVELY IDENTIFIED AS NORTH KOREAN SPEC-OPS. ALL TEN U.S. NAVY SEALS HAVE BEEN MISSING SINCE THE EXPLOSION, AND ARE PRESUMED DEAD. IT IS POSSIBLE/LIKELY THAT THE DETONATION WAS INTENTIONALLY TRIGGERED BY THE DPRK CONTINGENT, TO PREVENT SEIZURE OF THE VESSEL.
3. (SECR) NATIONAL MARITIME INTELLIGENCE CENTER ANALYSIS OF MV ARANELLA VOYAGE TRACK INDICATES THAT THE SHIP AVOIDED PANAMA CANAL TRANSIT TO PREVENT INSPECTION OF CARGO. EXAMINATION OF ARCHIVED VOYAGE TRACK DATA SHOWS THAT AT LEAST FOUR (4) OTHER CARGO VESSELS HAVE FOLLOWED THE SAME ROUTE OVER THE PAST SIX (6) MONTHS, DETOURING AROUND THE HORN OF SOUTH AMERICA TO BYPASS THE PANAMA CANAL.
4. (SECR) NATIONAL MARITIME INTELLIGENCE CENTER HAS DETERMINED THAT MV LECTICULA IS CURRENTLY EN ROUTE FROM NORTH KOREA TO CUBA FOLLOWING THE SAME VOYAGE TRACK.
5. (SECR) USS PHILIPPINE SEA, USS GETTYSBURG, USS HUE CITY, USS BOWIE, USS LASSEN, USS ROOSEVELT, USS WALTER W WINTERBURN, USS FARRAGUT, USS LITTLE ROCK, USS SIOUX CITY, USS WICHITA, USS MAHAN, AND USS INDIANAPOLIS ARE DIRECTED TO DETACH FROM CURRENT DUTIES AND DEPART THEIR RESPECTIVE OPERATING AREAS UPON RECEIPT OF THIS MESSAGE. PROCEED AT BEST AVAILABLE SPEED TO INTERNATIONAL WATERS IN VICINITY OF CUBA FOR NAVAL BLOCKADE AND SURFACE INTERDICTION OPERATIONS.
6. (UNCL) BY PRESIDENTIAL ORDER, ALL U.S. MILITARY FORCES ARE NOW AT DEFCON 3.
7. (CONF) NO VESSELS, REGARDLESS OF FLAG OF REGISTRATION OR NATION OF ORIGIN, WILL BE PERMITTED TO CROSS THE CORDON LINE WITHOUT SPECIFIC CLEARANCE FROM US SOUTHERN COMMAND.
8. (SECR) COMFOURTHFLEET WILL ISSUE RULES OF ENGAGEMENT, STATION ASSIGNMENTS, ADDITIONAL ORDERS, AND AMPLIFYING INTELLIGENCE.
9. (SECR) THE USS HARRY S. TRUMAN CARRIER STRIKE GROUP WILL RECEIVE SURGE ORDERS VIA SEPARATE CORRESPONDENCE.
10. (UNCL) STAY SAFE, STAY SHARP, AND BE READY FOR ANYTHING. ADMIRAL COOK SENDS.
//250651Z FEB//
//FLASH//FLASH//FLASH//
//SECRET//
//SSSSSSSSSS//
Heller skimmed the message quickly, and then re-read it more slowly to ensure that he hadn’t missed anything on the first pass. When he was done, he handed the printout back to his executive officer, Lieutenant Commander Diane Dubois. “What’s your take on the situation, Di? Is this going to turn into the second Cuban Missile Crisis?”
The XO laid the message on the table top and reached for her coffee cup. “If I had to guess, Captain, I’d say that’s what our buddies in North Korea are hoping for.”
Heller took a swallow of coffee. “Go on…”
“The Soviet Union was a no-shit nuclear juggernaut, with enough warheads to jump-start the apocalypse. They were the real deal. The North Koreans have got a few nukes in their pocket, but — next to the Soviets — they barely qualify as street corner punks.”
She paused. Heller motioned for her to continue.
“Only we’re not treating them like street corner punks,” Dubois said. “We’re reacting to them exactly the same way we reacted to the Soviet Union back in the bad old days. The president is ramping up our DEFCON level and calling out a full naval blockade, just like President Kennedy in 1962. Hell, he even compared them to the Soviets in a national address.”
“You think that was a mistake?”
“I think it’s a PR wet dream for the North Koreans,” she said. “They’re a third world cesspool and we just elevated them to the level of a global superpower.”
“What should we be doing? Better yet, what would you be doing if you were the president?”
The XO shrugged. “No idea, sir. Could be this really is our best option. I certainly can’t think of anything better. All I’m saying is that we’re giving Kim Yong-nam and his cronies a free ticket to the Armageddon Club.”
“They’ve got nuclear missiles ninety miles off our coast,” Heller said. “Maybe they belong in the Armageddon Club.”
He took another pull from his coffee. “Remember when they launched the first Hwasong-14? Thing came out of nowhere. We were busy laughing at their repeated failures to deploy a long-range missile, and then they popped out an ICBM while we weren’t looking. Nobody was expecting that.”
“True,” said the XO, “but the Hwasong hasn’t got the legs to reach most of the U.S. mainland, even if it doesn’t blow up in flight like most of their long-range missiles do.”
“It hasn’t got the legs yet,” said Heller. “But they’ll get it figured out. Have you ever watched video clips of our early ICBM tests? Check out some of the compilations on YouTube. Spectacular Redstone and Atlas explosions, speeded up and set to Looney Tunes music. Pretty funny stuff. Like Elmer Fudd and Daffy Duck were in charge of our ballistic missile programs. But you know what? We climbed the learning curve, eventually. We got the hang of the ICBM thing. And so will the North Koreans.”
The XO said nothing.
After about thirty seconds of silence, Heller set down his coffee cup. “Better wake up the navigator and have him lay in a course for Cuba.”
CHAPTER 12
Roxy’s ears twitched a couple of times; then she raised her head from the deck. She hesitated there, with her muzzle turned instinctively into the early morning breeze, nose gently snuffling.
The dog had been sleeping on Jon Clark’s feet — carrying out her self-imposed duty as warmer of human appendages — so Jon felt the shift in her weight when she moved.
He lifted a hand from the pilot’s wheel and reached down to pat Roxy’s neck. “What are you after, girl? Mermaids? Another seagull?”
Roxy lumbered to her feet and padded over to the port side gunwale, blunt claws clicking softly on the nonskid fiberglass of the cockpit decking. She stared out past the railing into the gloom.
Jon tried to follow her gaze, straining to pick out whatever the dog was searching for in the tenuous pre-dawn light. The bomb had gone off more than a day ago, but his retinas didn’t seem to be recovering from the reflected brilliance of the blast. The left quadrant of his vision was blurry and partially occluded by purplish triangular afterimages: a fact that he had (so far) managed to keep to himself.
His eyes would probably return to normal over time if he left them alone to heal at their own pace. Until then, he was learning to compensate by relying more on his forward and right peripheral vision.