“Look,” she said, checking the time. “The demo is scheduled to start in twenty-three minutes or so. And it’s not just another sailor. He’s a sailor with a Russian last name. And Smolin’s message about the sausage reeked of hate — hate against an object, that one,” she ended pointing her finger at the laser cannon cupola, installed on top of the helo hangar.
“How sure are you?” Jeremy asked quietly, running his hand through his hair.
“Make the call, Jeremy, make the call now. Then I’ll explain.”
“I’m all ears,” Moore said. “Do you realize we have admirals, SecNav, SecDef, and NATO aboard this ship today?”
Captain Meecham entered the cafeteria and stood silently, listening as Jeremy called the K9 unit in and Alex explained her point of view.
“That’s precisely it, Gabriel. I guarantee you will find explosives around the cannon. It’s in close proximity to all the visiting officials, and the plan has grandeur in it, has a greatness I’ve encountered before. Can you imagine the effect of taking out the elite Navy leadership under hundreds of cameras ready to roll? If the cannon blows up during a demo, everyone will think it just blew up, and that we’re just a bunch of incompetents who can’t fire a weapon safely. The effects of this attack would ripple for decades.”
“What do you want to do?” Moore asked. “Evacuate?”
“It would make sense to evacuate,” she agreed. “Captain?”
“For a civilian’s hunch? Agent Moore, we have nothing but speculation to support this theory, nothing else! I’d love to have a career in the Navy after today’s ceremony, if possible.”
“Then delay the demo a little,” Alex pleaded. “Buy me some time before we start the demo. Can you at least do that?”
“Yes, I guess we can, although it will be embarrassing,” Meecham agreed reluctantly. “I’ll think of a way.”
“Was the start time of the demo announced anywhere?” Alex asked.
“Yes, in the event program. It was distributed to everyone,” Meecham said.
“Great… just great,” she groaned. “Listen, the device, if I’m right, might be on a timer, rigged to go off at the time the demo was scheduled to start, in about seven minutes or so. What do you have in mind for a delay?”
“My officers will sing a few Navy songs, and no one’s ever refused coffee and cookies,” he replied.
“All right, let’s get it done,” she encouraged him, and thanked him with a thumbs-up.
She climbed up the stairs from the mess hall, and almost tripped and fell over a German Shepherd on a six-foot leash, dragging his handler in tow.
“Where do you wanna start?” Jeremy asked.
“Helo hangar,” she replied.
The dog led them through a bulkhead into the helo hangar, from where they could see everyone in attendance seated and listening to a choir of officers singing the all-time Navy favorite, “Anchors Aweigh.”
Then the Shepherd stopped and stared up, his tail wagging rapidly, at the ceiling structure of the helo hangar, recently reinforced to support the dome and the laser cannon installation. They followed the direction the dog was looking and there it was, hidden between the structure’s beams, a C4 block the size of a brick and a timing mechanism.
“Oh, shit…” Alex said, “how much time left? Can’t see from here.”
“1:18,” Jeremy said.
“Evacuate?” Moore asked.
“No time,” Jeremy said. “Close the hangar doors and give me some light.”
He climbed on a barrel and reached the device. The digital timer was counting down, less than thirty seconds left.
He took a deep breath and steadied his hands. He studied the device a little, calmly, like he had all the time in the world. They were in luck apparently, no failsafe, just a detonating pin stuck in the plastic explosive and hooked up to a timing device.
He held his breath and went for the pin, grabbing it gently as the timer showed seven seconds left.
He started pulling it out, and cleared it from the plastic brick, then removed the timer and stopped it. The red, ominous digits displayed 0:02.
“Whew,” Alex said, “great job, Jer.”
“Is this the only one?” Moore asked grimly.
“Officer Rambo thinks so,” the K9 officer replied. “But we’ll walk the entire ship just to make sure.”
Alex chuckled, hearing the dog’s name. How appropriate.
“Now what?” Jeremy asked, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve.
“We should evacuate,” Moore said. “Per procedure, I have to evacuate the ship and bring the bomb squad in. We have a block of C4 in the ceiling, for Christ’s sake,” he insisted, seeing the resistance in Alex’s determined eyes.
“I say we stay, carry on with our demo as scheduled. Well, maybe not as scheduled,” she joked, pointing vaguely in the direction of the choir now going through their third hit song. She opened the hangar door a little, letting some air and sunshine in, but making sure no one outside could see the NCIS agents removing the C4 brick from the ceiling.
“Is that safe?”
“Without a detonator, C4 is pretty safe to handle, so I’d say yes,” Jeremy asked.
“Then let’s continue,” she insisted.
“No way,” Gabriel replied. I’ll have to inform SecNav about this. Good thing he’s right there,” he said, pointing him out.
Captain Meecham locked eyes with her from a distance, and she made a rolling gesture with her hand, encouraging him to carry on with the choir performance.
Gabriel started toward the helipad, but she grabbed his sleeve and said, “Listen to me, please.”
He gave her a fiery look, then dropped his intense gaze to where she was holding on to his sleeve. She let that go instantly and mumbled an apology. Then she continued, “Look at them, at all that media. News crews, helos, camera flashes.”
“And?” Gabriel asked impatiently.
“Do you want the world to see the elite of our naval defense running for their lives, screaming, pushing one another around to get out of here faster, scattering like a bunch of scared cats? Because that’s what’s gonna happen, no matter how you try to manage this. I, for one, won’t give anyone this satisfaction. I, for one, am staying.”
Silence fell between them for a few seconds. She turned and kneeled next to the German Shepherd, taking his head in her hands and rubbing him behind his ears.
“Rambo, how sure are you, buddy?”
“He’s pretty sure,” the dog’s handler replied.
She turned back toward Jeremy and Gabriel, and asked, “Then? What’s it gonna be? Anyone keeping me company on the USS Fletcher to see the demonstration of our best weapon yet?”
“Yes,” Gabriel Moore said. “I’ll stay. Let’s do this.”
“You?” she asked Jeremy
“Me? I wasn’t going anywhere,” he smiled.
“All right, then, let’s laser blow something up,” she said with the excited smile of a child who’s going to try a new toy.
She signaled Captain Meecham, who immediately turned toward the choir and signaled them.
They ended “The Banner of the Sea” before the second chorus and switched to the familiar notes of the national anthem.
Everyone stood, turned toward the flag, and placed their hands on their hearts, as the choir sang the anthem.
And then, silently, the white dome opened and the laser cannon became exposed, coming into firing position, as a drone was launched from the bow deck. The drone flew out to sea, then turned and approached the USS Fletcher from the northwest, coming in fast, barely visible against the clear sky. The cannon discharged a quiet laser ray into it, turning it instantly into a ball of fire, under hundreds of cameras rolling and snapping images of the best weapon yet.
A roar of applause covered the choir and the constant roar of helicopter rotors coming from above.