“What is it, Commander?” Ashley asked. She no longer called him by his first name, the common way a captain addresses her senior officers.
“Captain, I just wanted you to know that I’ve prepared a detailed project flow diagram with what I know about Operation Gray Ships. It occurred to me that there’s a lot of moveable parts and I thought that a detailed timeline would be useful.” He handed her the spreadsheet that he had prepared, with blanks representing the details he didn’t know. He didn’t know a lot because he was effectively left outside of the command loop.
“Thank you, Commander. This will be very useful.”
Bradley then said, “Captain, I never formally apologized for making an ass of myself in the wardroom a few days ago, and I want you to know that I am sorry for getting totally out of line. I’ll make this public in the wardroom if you wish, Ma’am.”
“Well, thank you, Commander. I accept your apology. A public apology won’t be necessary.”
Every synapse in Ashley’s brain fired. Can I trust this guy, she thought, or does he have something up his sleeve? She hated not being able to trust a senior officer, especially one who is technically second in command. But Operation Gray Ships was an open secret, she thought, and Bradley does have excellent organizational skills.
“Please check with Nick Wartella in Engineering. He’ll our plans for appearance changes. This is a project that needs careful tracking.” Ashley knew that with Wartella and the two officers in charge of the project there was nothing to worry about, but another set of eyes wasn’t a bad idea. But something in the part of Ashley’s brain that controlled trust was not functioning properly with this guy.
“Aye aye, Captain,” said Bradley.
Bradley thought Ashley was easy to manipulate.
Ashley thought Bradley was a snake.
Chapter 41
Within moments of the California’s disappearance, Frank Orzo, Duty Officer at NavOps, had addressed everyone in the room, reminding them that the information about the California’s disappearance was secret. It would be up to the Department of Defense or the White House when and if it would be announced to the press.
Petty Officer Third Class Toby Miller was on duty at NavOps. His job was to monitor one of the screens showing the position of ships and report to Orzo. He nonchalantly took out his IPhone, and, in complete violation of policy, texted his sister-in-law Janet Miller, who had just landed a job in the marketing department of The New York Times: “One of our ships, USS California, is missing. GFF (go fucking figure).” He thought this wasn’t a problem because she wasn’t a reporter. He just loved to impress her with his important job at the Pentagon.
Captain Vera Esposito, aide to Chief of Naval Operations, answered the phone. Ray Cohen, a reporter with The New York Times was on the line. Admiral Roughead told her to stall while he called Secretary of Defense. Gates put him on hold while he patched through a conference call to the White House. Chief of Staff Bill Daley picked up and patched in Press Secretary Jay Carney. Everyone on the conference call knew one thing — if you try to put a cat back in the bag, you will get scratched and bitten. Bill Daley said to Gates, “I think Admiral Roughead should tell the Times what’s going on.” All agreed.
White House staffers, especially the Chief of Staff and the Press Secretary, hate to see breaking news of national security on TV. But you can’t unleak a leak, they all knew. Daley ended the call by saying, “I want the name of the turd who leaked this.”
Admiral Roughead picked up reporter Cohen’s call and told him what they knew. The California was missing, and a massive sea rescue operation was underway. Within minutes of The New York Times exclusive being posted to its online edition, every major news outlet in the world had picked up on the story.
Janet Miller, marketing assistant at The New York Times and Petty Officer Miller’s sister-in-law, was surprised when she got a major promotion to the newsroom within two days.
The California has been missing for 25 minutes
Chapter 42
Commander Bradley walked through the compartment where the SEALs were just finishing their morning exercises. He approached Lieutenant Conroy and said good morning.
“Good morning, Sir,” said Conroy.
“I’d like a few minutes of your time in my office, Lieutenant.”
After he showered and changed, Conroy reported to Bradley’s office. “We have some concerns, Lieutenant, about our upcoming engagements.” Conroy assumed the “we” meant the top brass on the ship, including Captain Patterson, although Bradley had not discussed what he was about to reveal with anyone. “As I’m sure you’ve been told, Lieutenant, the California is going to assist in the Battle of Bull Run in July. The SEALs’ involvement hasn’t been officially determined yet, but we know that you will have an important role in the operation.”
“I’ve assumed that, Sir. That’s why I’ve ordered extra physical training and weapons readiness drills.”
“Weapons readiness is a big concern, Lieutenant. When the battle begins, the California will be at sea, many miles from the scene, and there’s no way we can get a ship this large up Bull Run Creek. We need to come up with a plan to get a weapons cache ashore way in advance of the battle. I’ve checked with the weapons department and they showed me how many weapons and ammo can fit in a couple of Zodiacs and rafts. We can set up a camouflaged weapons depot with a hardened perimeter and a small security force consisting of SEALs and some sailors to help with moving the weapons. We have no idea what sea conditions will be like on the eve of battle, so if we wait until then to load up the Zodiacs, we’ll risk compromising the mission. Besides, I’m sure that part of your objective will be to plant lasers to guide in the missiles and bombs. That will take advance preparation.”
Conroy looked at the desk and scratched his head. “That sounds like a workable plan, Sir. I’m just worried about setting up a large weapons cache in hostile territory. We have the better weapons, that’s for sure, but if they send a cavalry brigade against us we could have a big problem.”
“You will have support from the Apache attack helicopter as well as the helicopter drones. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
The idea had a lot going for it, Conroy had to admit. “I’ll prepare a written plan and submit it to you, Sir.”
“Don’t worry about the sailors who will accompany the SEAL squad, Lieutenant. I will hand pick them myself.”
Chapter 43
Father Rick stood in the chow line preparing for lunch with the crew. He looked up to see Supply Officer Valente’s sign of the day. It read:
“If Any of Our Culinary Selections Don’t Meet with Your Complete Approval, JOIN THE ARMY!”
As he walked across the mess hall he met Dominic Valente.
“Dom, I have to tell you how much I love your little daily food announcements. This crew needs a few laughs.”
“Yes, Padre, they do need laughs. What I’m hearing from the crew isn’t good. These people want to go home. I can’t say I blame them. Please keep coming to the mess hall. These sailors love to see you. I’ll personally serve you an extra dessert.”
Fr. Rick laughed. “Thanks for the input, Dom, and keep up with the great signs. How are we doing with supplies?”