Seawolf Mask of Command (44 page)

Kristen ignored Fitzgerald and instead spoke to Randle and Gameroz. “Thank you, gentlemen,” she said, directing the two sailors to turn around and walk with her out of the passageway. “Let’s just forget it ever happened,” Kristen insisted, knowing with North Korea over the horizon, they couldn’t afford to burden the captain with anything like this.

“Are you sure, Miss,” Randle offered. “I mean, accidents happen all the time around here.”

“Yeah,” Gameroz said as he tapped the heavy dogging wrench against his open hand, making it clear what he had in mind for Fitzgerald.

Kristen knew what they were getting at but shook her head. “No, that won’t be necessary. Thank you for the offer though,” she told them flatly and directed them out of the passageway. “We’ll have none of that. Let’s just get back to work, all right?” she insisted as Fitzgerald vomited on the deck.

Control Room, USS Seawolf

“I
t’s getting a little tight in here,” the XO whispered softly to Brodie as Kristen approached the two navigation plotting tables positioned behind the periscope pedestal.

Brodie, the XO, Lieutenant Cheng, and Ryan Walcott were hovered over a table, studying a map of the Korean Peninsula. Kristen noticed Fitzgerald standing in a corner. She hadn’t seen him since the previous day when he’d confronted her in the passageway outside her cabin. He shot her an arrogant glare which she considered responding to by giving him the finger, but let restraint stop her.

“The XO's right, Skipper,” Walcott replied. “We’ve less than four hundred feet of water under the keel as we speak, and we’re shallowing fast.”

The
Seawolf
was not designed with the shallow waters of the coastal regions of the world in mind. She was a creature of the deep. But having seen where the suspected DPRK minefield was located and knowing the limited range of the drones, Kristen knew they were going to have to get much closer.

Brodie looked up at her and stood erect, tossing a chart pencil back onto the table. “Whatcha got, Lieutenant?”

“The drones are ready, sir,” she replied and returned the flash paper containing the minefield coordinates to him. It had taken a little longer to program the drones than expected because one of them had developed a software glitch, but with Martin’s help she’d managed to fix the problem.

Brodie slipped the paper in his pocket and turned back to the chart.

“What’s the range of those drones?” Graves asked as he studied the chart.

“Each can operate for about forty hours covering over one hundred twenty square nautical miles before exhausting its battery supply,” she explained. “So, the closer we get to the search grid, the better chance we have of being able to cover the entire area with a single deployment, reducing our overall exposure time dramatically.”

The
Seawolf
was already approaching the coast, and as Kristen joined the others at the map table, she saw they were now in North Korean territorial waters.

“Show it to us, Lieutenant,” Brodie ordered.

Kristen picked up a map pencil and pointed toward a small coastal city. “This is Musudan-ri, North Korea,” she explained. “It’s their primary missile testing facility and is complete with test stands for engines, control centers, barracks for security personnel, dormitories for engineers, and—of course—launch pads. Because of the sensitive nature of the facility, the waters off the coast have been mined.” She dragged her pencil to the shoreline south of Musudan-ri and traced out the general shape of the suspected minefield. “The search pattern is an area directly south of Musudan-ri along the coast. It covers an area of about two hundred thirty square nautical miles in the general shape of a rectangle.

“As I said earlier, the closer we can get the drones before launching them, the better chance we have of getting complete coverage of the entire search area on the first run. Otherwise, we’ll need to send them out on a second run after several hours of downtime for maintenance, recharging batteries, and reprogramming after the first search is complete.”

“While at the same time hovering just a few miles off the coast of North Korea in relatively shallow waters,” Graves added anxiously.

“So, the closer the better,” Brodie concluded.

“Just how close, Kristen?” Ryan asked. As the ship’s navigation officer, it was his job to plot a course to get them to the release point safely. Kristen tapped the map and put a mark on it with her pencil.

“Right about there,” she informed him, knowing it would be tight in the shallow waters near the coast.

Ryan leaned closer and shook his head. “I don’t know, Skipper. It’s awful shallow in there. We won’t have any room to maneuver if we need to.” He looked up at Brodie nervously. “I mean that’s twenty miles from shore if it’s a mile,” he pointed out.

“Just a little over sixteen miles, sir,” she corrected easily. “And, according to the charts, we’ll have about two hundred feet of water to play in.”

“Play in?” Graves commented dryly. “Hell, that’s not even a kiddie pool for us.”

“I’m afraid we don’t have much choice,” she explained. “The drones aren’t designed for deep sea work, and the currents grow progressively stronger the further out we are, decreasing the operational effective range of the drones exponentially. So, the further out we launch them, the more of their limited battery supply they’ll use up just getting to the target area.”

Brodie glanced at Lieutenant Cheng.

“Is sixteen miles close enough for your SDV?” he asked referring to the small SEAL Delivery Vehicle designed to carry six SEALs from a submarine to shore undetected. One of these vehicles was currently riding piggyback on the aft deck of the
Seawolf
in the Dry Deck Shelter.

“It should be close enough,” he replied. Cheng then looked at Kristen, his expression all business. “Just as long as you can identify all the mines. We won’t be able to see jack shit once we launch. We’ll have to depend totally on what information you can provide from the drones to prevent us bumping into something that goes boom.”

His concern was not lost on Kristen. She had no idea what on earth they might be going ashore into North Korea for, but was fairly certain she was happier not knowing. Doing something as insane as penetrating a minefield in a mini submarine, then sneaking onto a hostile shore made her sick to her stomach just thinking about it. “The drones are pretty good,” she assured him. “They should be able to find a lane in the minefield if one exists.”

“What about surface reconnaissance, Skipper?” the XO asked, a bit nervous about coming in so close. “The North Koreans don’t mind us snooping around too much, but this is sort of their back porch, and I imagine they’re going to have patrol craft out and about.”

The speaker near them came to life.
“Con, radio,”
Kristen recognized the voice of Charles Horner, the communications officer.

Brodie pulled a microphone down from the overhead. “Go ahead, Charlie.”

“Sir, we have received a message for your eyes only on the VLF net.”

Brodie’s face betrayed nothing as to what he might be thinking. “I’ll be right there.”

He replaced the microphone and then tapped the map as he spoke to the XO and Ryan, “Plot us a nice quiet course right into where Lieutenant Whitaker wants to launch the drones. I’ll be back after decoding this message.”

Kristen knew Ryan was nervous about being in such shallow water, but as he sighed, shaking his head in worry, he began plotting a course. Kristen meanwhile waited for the captain to return. Fitzgerald had moved forward and was now waiting outside the radio room which was off limits to everyone not directly involved in the workings of the radio shack. Kristen ignored him, but she could feel Fitzgerald glaring at her.

The hatch to the radio room opened, and Kristen turned to see Brodie appear, followed by Horner. Brodie looked composed and relaxed, as if he’d just finished the Sunday paper. But Horner looked edgy, which was not that unusual considering the news he’d been reading recently. Brodie ignored Fitzgerald who tried to get his attention, and instead, the captain handed the message to Graves, then studied the course Ryan had plotted for them. Brodie gave no hint what the message said, but Kristen only had to glance at the XO or Horner to see that it wasn’t good news.

“Captain, might I have a moment of your time?” Fitzgerald interrupted and cast a glance at Kristen.

“No,” Brodie said simply and without explanation.

Graves handed the message back to Brodie who returned it to Horner. Brodie then reached up and pulled down the microphone for the ships 1MC.

“All hands, this is the captain,” he announced. “We’re currently sailing northward through the Sea of Japan toward the North Korean coastline. Unfortunately, as some of you may already know, the tensions on the Korean Peninsula have been rising steadily over the last couple of months. It had been hoped diplomacy might defuse the rising tensions, but increasingly provocative action by North Korea in the past few weeks has forced the National Command Authority to lower the defensive condition in the theater to DEFCON-Three.”

Brodie paused briefly and Kristen thought she saw a flicker of concern cross his face.

“Eight hours ago, a North Korean surface-to-air missile battery engaged and shot down a South Korean Airbus in route from Seoul to Tokyo. The plane was flying outside North Korean airspace when it was hit, and it is believed all two hundred thirty passengers and crew onboard were killed. We don’t know if this was an accident or another act by an unstable regime desperate for the world to give in to their demands. However, by order of the National Command Authority, we are now at DEFCON-Two. Although our rules of engagement have not changed enough to allow us open season on North Koreans just yet, this message is considered a war warning, and we are instructed to take all precautions to ensure our security. We’re authorized to fire on any North Korean vessel in international waters acting aggressively toward us or another allied vessel in our sphere of influence.” Brodie paused for effect and allowed the crew to digest what it all meant.

They were on the precipice of war.

“With this in mind, we’re cancelling all drills until further notice. This means if you hear an alarm there’ll be no reason to speculate whether or not it’s the real thing. In addition, we’ll be going to ultra-quiet mode shortly for an extended period. I would like all department heads and off duty officers to assemble in the wardroom immediately.”

Brodie paused a final time. Kristen could see he took a moment as he considered his final words. “I know this is difficult for many of you. But it was for this purpose, this moment in fact, that the
Seawolf
was designed. You’re on the most powerful warship ever built, and if we treat her right, she’ll bring us all home to our families and loved ones. That is all.” Brodie secured the microphone and then turned back to the navigation chart as Ryan put the finishing touches on it. There was nothing about their captain’s bearing to make her feel he wasn’t supremely confident, and his confidence helped dispel some of her apprehension. She wondered how much of his cool exterior was an act simply for her sake and that of his crew.

“Captain, I really must speak to you about an important matter,” Fitzgerald repeated as he shot another harsh look at Kristen.

Brodie leaned over the chart, studying their course meticulously. “Has it anything to do with the LMRS?” he asked without looking up.

“No, sir. But—”

“Is it about something possibly endangering this boat or her people?” Brodie cut him off.

“Well, no. But…”

Brodie shot an annoyed glare at him. “Then considering that at any moment we might be firing our weapons in anger or running from a North Korean torpedo, I think it can wait, don’t you?”

Apparently Fitzgerald didn’t think so and continued, “Sir, it has to do with one of your officers. I need to speak to you in private.”

Brodie shook his head in exasperation. “Mister Fitzgerald do you know what ultra-quiet means on a submarine?”

“No, not really, sir. I can’t say I do,” he admitted, “But—“

“It means, besides cutting off power to all but our most vital systems and doing everything we can to prevent any noise being created that is not absolutely necessary to running this boat, everyone not currently on watch is required to be in his bunk doing nothing that might make a sound.”

Brodie set the compass down and nodded his approval to Ryan regarding the planned course. He then looked back at Fitzgerald with a fiery stare. “Now, unless you have somehow become a watch stander on board this boat without my knowledge, then go to your cabin, get a good book, get in your bunk, and stay there. Is that clear?”

Fitzgerald glanced at the XO whose hands were resting on one of the many pipes running along the overhead. The tall, athletic African American was leaning forward and looking at the chart, but glanced up at Fitzgerald when the man didn’t immediately obey Brodie’s orders. “Do you need some help finding your bunk, Mister?” Graves asked with a menacing tone. “Because if you do, I can have the master-at-arms come up and give you a hand.”