The next part of his plan was to wait. Perched on the bridge with the dark coast of Iran blotting out the stars on one horizon and the coast of Oman on the other horizon, Slade was without friends, except for the Key West which he assumed was shadowing the Galaxus. Fortunately, out in the Arabian Sea was the Enterprise and her Task Force. They were friends indeed.
Nikahd was on the bridge with an all Iranian crew manning the helm and providing guard duty. The only other visible guards were the two men patrolling the deck and two men standing watch over the entrance to the crew’s prison.
He crept to the back hatch that opened onto the captain’s private deck and peered through the port hole. The captain was not to be seen, but Eva was there getting ready to shrug on her nightgown. The momentary sight of her naked, nubile body was almost enough to make the entire ordeal worthwhile.
In the space of a moment she was clothed again. She crept into bed, looking beautifully composed considering there was no way out for her, her husband the captain or anyone else on the crew. As soon as Jakarta was within view their value as hostages would be nil; their lifespan thereafter would be almost as short.
At dawn, twenty-six hours after the Key West started to shadow the Galaxus, the first officer of the American submarine woke Captain Mars up.
“Sir, you’re going to want to see this,” he said.
The captain pulled on his uniform and joined the first officer on the bridge. He went straight to the periscope which was already pointing at the Galaxus. He took one look and said, “What the Hell? That wasn’t there yesterday!”
“No it wasn’t,” the first officer replied.
“We got pictures right?”
“Yes sir!”
“Well send them to FLEETCOM pronto!”
On the USS Enterprise Admiral Norman and Captain Buckminster were in the conference room with Captain ‘Killer’ Kincaid. Director Gann was on speaker. All parties were staring at a picture taken from the periscope of the Key West; a picture of a big freighter. Captain Buckminster was briefing everyone.
“The Galaxus is a Suezmax with a length of 307 meters and a beam of 68 meters. Her empty weight is slightly over 150,000 tons. She is a bulk carrier. Her holds normally carry raw materials. However, we believe after the Key West’s observations that she’s now carrying the missing three containers filled with three tons of Uranium 235; the new paint scheme would tend to confirm the Key West’s findings.”
Amidships on the black hull someone painted a very large “U235”. Above it were painted the numbers “7500 (200).” Below the numbers there was a rude but recognizable bullseye.
The voice of the director came over the conference line. “I would say that Agent Slade has confirmed our suspicions. They have the Uranium 235 on board.”
“What’s the ‘7500’ mean?” said the admiral.
Killer explained, “It’s an aviation transponder code used to alert air traffic control of a hijacking. We’re guessing the number in parentheses is the number of hijackers — Iranian military no doubt.”
“Two hundred!” the admiral started. “That takes storming the ship out of the equation.”
“Sir, these are Iranian troops, they are predictable,” Killer said with calm confidence. “A ship is a tight battlefield. Careful use of force can easily negate numbers. We just need to carry enough ammunition.”
“I would have expected as much from a Delta Force,” the admiral replied with a frown. “Captain, I need a realistic assessment. I know your record; bravado is not necessary.”
“With all due respects sir, I just finished an operation in open country with a four man team, myself and Agent Slade against a force of about a hundred Tangos.” Kincaid said seriously, but then he smiled in an unpleasant manner. “The only hitch in the mission was getting Agent Slade to stop hogging the Tangos all to himself. If we leave him to it he’ll get it in his head to do this by himself, mark my words.”
The admiral looked to Kincaid and then to the picture of the director, who frowned and sighed.
“Captain Kincaid has extensive experience with Agent Slade, but in this case it’s not the Tangos that concern me: it’s the cargo. We now know the Key West wasn’t chasing what the Administration called ‘an illusion.’ This is what we were afraid of. By the ship’s filed route she’s bound for Jakarta which has as many Al Qaeda cells as it has mosques — a lot.”
The admiral chewed on his pencil, saying after a moment of reflection, “There’s the Indian Ocean between the Arabian Sea and Indonesia. That’s about eight or nine days of sailing; a great deal can happen in that time if we give the word.” He looked around the table and finished his thought. “The Iranians want us to think that the Uranium is at the bottom of the sea. Why not make it real? Instead of calling the Iranians on their lie why don’t we make it come true? The Key West could make this problem disappear — literally.”
“What about the freighters crew?” Sorensen interjected.
“If they’re not dead already they soon will be,” the admiral said gravely. “We know how these Islamists operate. There’s no need to keep the crew alive if they can run the ship.”
“You’re right,” Gann replied with a serious and troubled expression. “That is the way the Islamists and jihadists operate. However, in this case there is a good chance the crew will be kept alive for a while at least as hostages. One thing these Islamists have learned is the West’s almost insane desire to secure the lives of its people. If they run into trouble they’ll have the hostages as bargaining chips.”
“An insane desire you say?” the admiral asked.
“Admiral, they have no problem killing their own people whereas we will move Heaven and Earth to save one,” Gann said stoically. “The Israelis just traded a thousand killers for one Israeli. We let these very Iranians hold our people for over a year before brokering a deal to get them back. Believe me, we’ve taught them the value of keeping hostages.”
“You don’t approve?” the admiral pressed.
Gann answered immediately and forcefully. “When I consider the repercussions of three tons of enriched Uranium in the hands of terrorists, no, I do not approve. The hostages are expendable. So is Slade and he knows it.”
“Then we’re back with the Key West solution,” the admiral sighed. He pointed to the screen and the bullseye painted in the ship. “Your boy’s even given us the location of the uranium — nice job — Captain Mars can probably sink the ship precisely enough to keep the Uranium intact in their containers. We can salvage it with a deep sea submersible with no one the wiser.”
The director brought up the white elephant in the room, saying with accumulated frustration, “The current administration — meaning the president — will never, and I say never, allow the navy to sink a civilian freighter no matter what the threat or the cargo.”
“We’d have an easier time convincing the Pope to let us sink it, that’s for sure,” Kincaid agreed.
“The Pope’s already given us his blessing to stop these people,” Gann commented. “However, it took six months to get permission for a limited strike, SEALS, Deltas and CIA on ISIS leadership — six months! We have ten days or less before the freighter enters Indonesian waters.”