“When did you get so smart?”
“When I stopped listening to you.”
“More smoke,” Bird Dog said. “More fire. We have to make this look real convincing.”
Ten decks below them, flight deck crews were tending burning fifty-gallons drums. A little AVGAS, a bunch of plastics they’d been retaining on board — and finally, something useful from the tedious environmental recycling programs! — and a few flares were all it took to produce geysers of black, acrid smoke whipping around in the stiff wind.
It looked convincing enough to Batman, watching from the bridge: a dense spiral of black smoke and flame unwinding from Jefferson’s stern into the winds of the typhoon. It got torn apart quickly, true, but the stain it left on the storm was still unmistakable. And the flames should be visible for fifty miles in this darkness.
Still, he did as Bird Dog suggested, ordering the addition of more plastics and AVGAS to the bonfire. He hoped the damage control teams were heads-up and ready to go with their hoses, just in case.
“You’re sure this isn’t going to hurt my flight deck any more than it’s already been hurt?” he asked. “Remember, at some point, we’ve got to get all those aircraft back onboard.”
Bird Dog didn’t even spare him a glance. “It won’t do the non-skid much good, but it won’t keep planes from cycling, either, no. I mean, once the deck’s repaired. And the wind will clear off the deck fast enough once we douse the fire in the drums.”
“Good.” Batman turned toward Dr. George. “How long before the typhoon really grabs us? Before we’re out of sight from the outside?”
George’s eyes were bright. He looked pretty happy. “Oh, we’re right on the edge of the outer wall right now. It should have us in no more than ten, fifteen minutes. But Admiral, don’t you think you’re taking a chance by not turning head-on into the wind? I realize this ship is no pushover, but you’re talking about a 140-knot wind here, remember.”
“Our present course is temporary,” Batman said. “We’ll turn as soon as we’re out of sight of the Chinese. I want them to think we’re really hurting.”
George’s eyes twinkled. “All right!”
Batman turned to the helmsman. “Steady as you go.”
“Aye, sir,” the helmsman said. His face looked greenish in the sickly light. Or maybe it wasn’t the light.
“It’s true,” Tai Ling said over the radio. He had been asked to verify the reports made by various other sources, including land-based radar. He hated flying this low, just above the waves, but he had to get under the weather to see at all. And for once, the view was worth the risk. “The carrier’s on fire. Looks severe. And the typhoon is catching up with it. Coming right around it….”
Gray-black.
It was as if Jefferson had sunk, and was now sailing through some underwater realm. And fighting it. Corkscrewing, thundering, shaking through dark depths.
Most of the windows on the bridge were simply obscured with rain. The water struck the glass like something solid, with a deafening roar. More than once, Batman had the irrational, but overpowering, feeling that a giant sea, a tsunami, had smashed directly into the bridge. Every now and then there would be an inexplicable gap in the rain, and Batman would see a world of horizontal strips of gray hurtling like comets through utter blackness.
He’d gotten a report that the anemometer — the wind-speed measuring device — had pegged at two hundred miles per hour.
And they hadn’t even reached the eyewall yet. The part of the storm Dr. George described as “the heart of the typhoon.”
Batman knew that people were watching him, glancing at him. He kept his expression calm but alert. Forced himself not to cringe when a fresh barrage of wind-powered rain crashed into the windows. To keep his knees loose and relaxed when Jefferson yawed like a tiny skiff in a squall.
What the hell had he agreed to here? What had he gotten them into?
Chin grinned. “And the other ships in the group?”
“They’re converging into a tighter formation and moving northeast, Major General,” the aide told him as he brought in the latest reports. “It appears they’re intending to circle around the typhoon.”
Chin nodded. “Their plan is obvious: to meet the carrier on the back side of the storm — assuming it makes it that far. We’ll be ready for them.”
“But shouldn’t we attack the escort ships now, before they regroup with the carrier?”
“Before the carrier reappears, yes. But not yet. This is working to our advantage after all. Let the storm do some work for us first. Let it batter the ships and tire their crews. Meanwhile, our men will rest. Only when the time is right will we strike — and when the carrier finally reappears, there will be no escort ships left to protect it.
“Then” — He popped a closed fist against his open palm — “then, we finish the job.”
“So what are you planning to do with me, Matthew?” McIntyre asked. “Shoot me?”
Tombstone shook his head. “Have my partner place a shore-to-ship telephone call. Get us a little help out here.”
“What kind of help?”
“A SEAL team. With explosives.”
He watched McIntyre’s face tighten, but felt no pleasure in it. He’d grown up loving this man like a father.
“But first,” Tombstone went on, “you’re going to make a little call. Whoever’s responsible for prepping and launching all those UAVs, you’re going to call him and tell him to forget the launch.”
He saw the color fade from McIntyre’s handsome face. “I can’t — ”
“Sure you can. There’s the phone right there on your desk. Just dial and talk.
“You look nervous, Uncle,” Tombstone said, leaning back in the comfortable chair. “Sun’s about to come up. Hope you aren’t a vampire or something.”
“I’m fine,” McIntyre said, but glanced toward the phone.
“What’s the matter?” Tombstone demanded. “Need reassurance about current events? Need to let someone know to launch the UAVs? What?”
“Nothing, nothing….”
“Good. Then you won’t mind devoting your attention to a little plan of mine.”
“Plan?”
“Oh, you’ll love it. And it will only cost you nine-tenths of your personal fortune.”
“Batman?”
Batman’s jaw dropped. Even over the static online, Tombstone’s voice was recognizable. “Are you okay, Stony?”
“Depends on what you mean by fine, because that’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. Any chance you’ve got a spare SEAL team around?”
“You bet. I don’t know if you’ve checked the weather lately, but they’re sure not out on the deck doing calisthenics.” Not that there’s much deck there. Batman refrained from mentioning any of the other disasters Jefferson was facing.