by Eric Meyer
Talley tried to nod, but the effort almost made him pass out, and he closed his eyes momentarily to keep conscious.
"I've been better.”
"You heard about Valois?"
"Yeah, that's a bummer, to have come this far and then get killed within feet of safety. I wish to Christ I could have done more. Maybe I should have moved faster. There must have been something."
Guy shook his head. "There was nothing you could do. What saved us was the Skipper of the Virginia. He brought his boat back into the danger zone to pick us up. If he'd obeyed orders and hightailed it out of Dodge, we wouldn't be having this conversation. Standing orders for any kind of a nuclear explosion are to go to flank speed and clear the area. He shouldn't have stopped for anything. We're just lucky he had the guts and initiative to stick around for us."
"Yeah, I'll have a word with him. I reckon we owe him a lot. I only hope to Christ he doesn't hit trouble for helping us out."
"If he does, I suggest we stage an operation on the Pentagon and take out the bastards responsible."
Talley smiled. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that. We have enough problems as it is. What about Anika? Was she injured?"
"Not badly, no. She sustained a couple of cuts and bruises, but she came through okay. I take it you still have concerns about her?"
He nodded. “I'll talk to her another time."
Guy was about to reply, but the corpsman came back into the sick bay and told him to get lost. Talley objected, but the man ignored him and thrust a needle into his arm. Seconds later, he once again drifted into oblivion.
When he awoke, he was strapped to a gurney, which two burly sailors were carrying to the submarine's cargo access hatch. He was only half aware of the transfer to a United States aircraft carrier that involved him being winched on board a helo hovering five meters above the deck. The aircraft carrier, the USS George Washington, was stopped in the water five hundred meters from the Virginia. Even in his semi-comatose state, Talley was aware of the immensity of the Nimitz class nuclear powered carrier, as the aircraft controller guided the helo to a touchdown on the deck. They handed him over to a pair of corpsmen who were waiting to receive him, and they carried him down to the carrier's well-equipped hospital. A doctor attended him immediately.
"How are you feeling? I gather you took something of a bump back there, some kind of an underwater explosion?"
His mind screamed a warning. The physician was unaware there had been a nuclear explosion. That meant there was a complete information blackout. It was understandable, but pumped full of drugs, he reminded himself to be mighty careful.
"Yeah, something like that."
"You know what caused it, Lieutenant, were you attacked? Or was it an old mine floating around from World War II?"
"We're not too sure of that, Doc. I guess they're looking into it right now."
The medical officer nodded absently as he gave Talley a thorough check over. He finished and nodded to Talley, "I reckon you're in pretty good shape, son. We'll be running some more tests, ECGs, MRIs, that kind of thing, but I'm confident you'll be fine."
Before he could go on, there was a knock on the door, and Anika walked into the room.
"Ma'am, this patient is not up to visitors just yet…"
"It's okay," Talley said quickly. "Could you give us a few minutes, Doc?"
He nodded and left the room, calling, "A few minutes is all you get, feller. Then you need to get some rest."
They stared at each other for a few moments.
"You were hurt badly when the warhead exploded, Abe. Did you learn about Valois?"
"I know. Are they shipping his body home, or will there be a funeral?"
"Apparently, his last wish was to be buried at sea. It's due to take place at midday tomorrow."
It reminded him he'd completely lost track of time.
"How long was I out?"
"Almost twenty-four hours. Abe, I was really worried. When you blacked out in the compartment, your mouthpiece slipped out, and I tried pushing it back in for you. Guy helped to support you until they opened the hatch. For a time, it looked as if you'd stop breathing. I started mouth-to-mouth on you. It took a while, but then you started breathing again. What worried us was whether you'd suffered any permanent damage.” She gave him a tired smile. “It seems you're okay."
"Yeah, I'm okay.” He caught her eyes. “I haven't lost my memory either. I guess you know there are a few things we need to clear up."
She stared back at him without speaking for a couple of minutes, but he waited.
Seems she's trying to make up her mind about something. Telling me the truth, maybe?
"I guess you want to know about Petersen."
"Amongst other things, yes. I know that you passed him information about our movements."
She went pale. "How? How did you find out?"
"Too many coincidences, I guess. Too many things were going wrong right from the start, and as you know, I suspected Miles Preston, at first. It was a long and complicated trail, and then it became clear that Miles wasn't double-crossing us. It was Petersen all the time, and I didn't have to look too far for the next part of the puzzle. I had to ask myself, who was uniquely placed between Echo Six and the MI6 Head of Station to pass back information about our movements? I didn't believe it at first, but I had to look at the obvious. There was only one candidate, and that was you."
"It’s not the whole truth. I did pass on a couple of things, but I had good reason."
Before she could go on, the physician bustled back into the room.
"You'll have to do get out of here, Ma'am. He needs treatment and rest. Come back tomorrow if you want to see him again."
She nodded and moved toward the door.
"What reason?" Talley shouted after her.
She turned back to stare at him. Her voice when she spoke was almost inaudible. "He was my father."
He lay back with his mind in turmoil as the Doc attended to the lines feeding drugs and saline into him. As his consciousness began to recede, he still couldn't work it all out.
Her father! It doesn't seem possible. It sure was an odd relationship, with each appearing to conspire to bring about the death of the other.
When he awoke, it was still at the forefront of his mind. But he had little time to think about it, as Guy and Domenico entered the room dressed in borrowed uniforms.
"It's the funeral service for Robert Valois. We thought you'd want to come."
He looked for his wristwatch, but of course it had been removed. Even so, he knew that it was still only evening.
"I thought that was supposed to be at midday tomorrow. What is it now, around midnight?"
Domenico grinned, "You've been out for a while, it's 1130 hours. Daytime."
1130 hours! That means I've been unconscious again for almost eighteen hours.
"Get me a uniform! I have to be there."
"Anika managed to borrow some stuff for you, and she'll be here in a moment."
He grimaced as Guy mentioned her. His number two stared at him.
"You still have a problem with her?"
"Let's get the funeral over with. I'm not sure if there's a problem or not."
They both went silent, and a few seconds later Anika brought an armful of clothes into the room. They helped him out of bed while she pulled on his pants and shirt, and buttoned on a jacket. He looked down as she was lacing his shoes and realized he was wearing the uniform of a full commander of the United States Navy.
"It seems I've been promoted," he said dryly.
"It was all I could get you."
He nodded his thanks, and then felt a spell of dizziness. He almost collapsed, but Guy and Domenico took an arm apiece and kept him on his feet. They helped him along the narrow companionways that led up to the flight deck. A contingent of the crew of the George Washington was drawn up in full dress uniform, along with an honor guard of marines with rifles. To one side, and looking totally out of place in their ill fitting, borro
wed gear, were the men of Echo Six. He went to join them. To his astonishment, Heinrich Buchmann was almost in tears. He was astonished but touched.
"We are all soldiers, Heinrich. We all have to take the same his chances, and next time it could be you or me. Besides, I thought you and Valois hated each other."
The German nodded. "Yes, we hated each other. Do you know why?"
He shook his head.
"We were serving in Afghanistan, a joint special operations mission to target Taliban bomb makers. You know, the IEDs that cause us so many casualties over there. We went into a hostile village, and our mission commander, a German who was also the commander of my unit, ordered an immediate frontal assault on the enemy to hit them before they had a chance to pick us off one by one. There was no way of knowing what else they had in store for us, traps or ambushes around the village, and he decided not to take the risk. We charged in and overran their positions, but we took heavy casualties. Three of our men were killed and five more were wounded. But the French, there was no sign of them. Eventually, they arrived, and it turned out their leader had disobeyed the order to charge and had kept his men, the French Special Forces, behind cover while we went in and did all the work. When I joined Echo Six, I recognized Robert Valois as one of that French unit, and I'd have liked to take him apart piece by piece. But I had second thoughts during this mission. He fought like a hero, and it wasn't him who gave that cowardly order. It was the French squad leader who refused to charge. All he did was follow orders. I guess if anything, I should look up that officer and take him apart, but it's too late now. I lost some good friends in that attack, which I guess is why I felt so bad about Valois, but lately I thought I should have talked it out with him, and maybe come to an understanding. Perhaps he disagreed with the order to stand back while the attack went in. Now I'll never know."
Talley nodded. "I understand, my friend, but you have to realize it's all in the past. What killed Valois was that lunatic Petersen and his plan to acquire nuclear warheads for the Revolutionary Guard. And what killed your men in Afghanistan was another bunch of fanatics. If we're to do the job we're paid to do, we need to keep our sights fixed firmly on the enemy, and not on our own men."
"Ja, I think you could be right."
"Tenhut!"
They came to attention as the Admiral in command of the carrier battle fleet came onto the deck. He went to the rail where Valois' coffin was shrouded in a flag.
It's a nice touch, Talley reflected.
They'd searched through the ship's stores and located a French flag, the Tricolor, the red, white, and blue standard of France. The carrier's chaplain said a few words over the coffin, and the Admiral gave the eulogy. An aide came to Talley and asked him if he wanted to say a few words as the man's commander, but he declined, feeling unable to keep on his feet for even the few minutes it would require. Then it was all over, and the bugler played the Last Post as the coffin slipped over the side. The Marine Detachment fired a three-volley honor salute. The shooting took him back to those final desperate moments on board the Rostam when they were engaged in an almost apocalyptic struggle to take control of the yacht. His mind started to slip, and he felt his legs going rubbery. The next thing he was aware of was when he woke up in the sick bay. Guy and Domenico were both in the room with him.
"What happened?"
"It was too early to get back on your feet,” Domenico asserted firmly. "If she was still here, I would have recommended some leisure time with the lady."
"She's gone? You mean Anika has left the ship?"
"You didn't know?" He looked puzzled. "Apparently, she was needed back in London for a debrief. She spoke to the Captain, and he arranged for a helo to take her to Dubai International for a transfer to a London flight."
Talley closed his eyes. So she managed to slip away. If I'd been conscious, I would have stopped her. There are far too many questions for her to answer. Until I have all the answers, I wanted to keep her within reach, but now it's too late. Her colleagues in MI6’ll protect her, and my chances of questioning are almost non-existent.
He spent two days recovering in the hospital of the USS George Washington. During this time there was a complete news blackout on the events surrounding the decimation of the warheads. One peculiarity of a submarine is that the crew is of necessity out of contact with the outside world, apart from the official communications channels. There was no possibility of any information leaking out, and by the time the sub docked, the crew would no doubt have been warned to keep silent on penalty of the direst punishments. Not that they would need any threat, the crew of a nuclear submarine is, like the Special Forces, the elite of the world's military.
They were allocated transport to take them back to NATO headquarters in Belgium, and Talley's squad was lifted off the deck of the George Washington by a pair of SH 60 helos, the Sea Hawk variant of the venerable Black Hawk. The two aircraft flew them to Kuwait International Airport where they transferred to a Kuwaiti Airlines Boeing 757, on a direct flight to Brussels. On arrival at NATO, Rovere led the men away for debrief, but Talley and Guy were summoned before Vice Admiral Carl Brooks. His greeting was cold. There were no handshakes, no preliminaries.
"I called you both here to find out about the fuck-up in Iran."
"Hold on there, Admiral," Guy exclaimed, "The mission was a success. You sent us there to prevent the Pasdaran from getting hold of Pakistani nukes. That's exactly what we did. Not only that, the guy who was running the show is doing an Osama bin Laden, feeding the local fish population."
Brooks didn't smile. If anything, his face became even grimmer. "I guess you're aware of the complaints we've had about the Iranians cops who were killed during the mission. As well as an indeterminate number of Revolutionary Guards, and the kidnapping of the number two man in the Iranian’s atomic energy facility. Which, by the way, has been almost totally destroyed. It's true you achieved your objective, and a lot of people are breathing a sigh of relief right now, but the head of NATO, SACEUR, is going ape over the collateral damage the Iranians suffered. And the UN! Don’t mention the UN. For Christ's sake, why did you have to leave such a trail of destruction? You men are trained to operate in the shadows, not to park a squadron of tanks on Ahmadinejad's lawn."
"We didn't fully achieve our mission objective," Talley interjected quietly.
Brooks swiveled to stare at him, "What the hell are you talking about, Lieutenant? I saw the overheads from the Gulf, and there was no doubt those warheads were atomized, along with the Rostam, the guy who was running the show, Petersen, and the Revolutionary Guard boats."
"That's true, Sir, but one of the players managed to escape."
He explained to him about Doctor Anika Frost, and his suspicions about the part she’d played in helping Petersen evade Echo Six while they were hunting for Arash. When he informed the Admiral she was Petersen’s daughter, his jaw dropped open in astonishment.
"You're shitting me, Lieutenant? His daughter? We don't have anything like that on record."
"No, Sir, I guess not, but that's the way it is. Maybe she was adopted, maybe she changed her name somewhere along the line, who knows? They were both British intelligence officers, and so they would have had every opportunity to cover their tracks."
"You're sure about this?"
"I am, Sir. The only question I have, is how deeply she was involved?"
"How do you mean?"
"I mean that because of their relationship as fellow intelligence officers in the Tehran Station, as well as presumably father and daughter, she passed on intelligence to him. But how far that went, I don't know. There's a lot I need to ask her."
Admiral Brooks looked thoughtful, "Yeah, I bet you do. You know she's back in London?"
"So I heard. She was recalled to MI6 Headquarters."
"That's true, but she's also doing some work for the archaeologists you were with in Iran.” He grinned. “I happen to know that tomorrow evening she's giving a talk on the Persian era arc
haeology at King's College in London."
Talley and Guy looked at each other.
"Then I guess we'll be headed for London," Talley murmured.
Brooks gave him a sharp look. "Remember, Lieutenant, she's a serving officer of the British Secret Intelligence Service. You're not going there for an assassination. I expressly forbid it."
"There's no question of that," Talley replied. "What we're looking for is answers. Then you can decide where we go with it."
Brooks nodded and appeared to be satisfied. "Very well, but keep me informed. I want to know every move you make before you make it. My office is still trying to pacify the Iranians after Echo Six tore the country to shreds, not to mention SACEUR. I don't want to have to deal with the Brits as well. They can be damn awkward when they put their minds to it." He looked at Guy, "Present company excepted, of course."
The SAS man nodded, but Talley noted Guy's expression, and he was not paying attention.
Something about the operation is bugging him.
"Before you go, Lieutenant, remember I want you to think about that promotion. As you know, it would give you the rank of Lieutenant Commander with an early jump to full Commander. It's a big deal, you know. You'd be a fool not to give it some serious thought."
"I appreciate it, Admiral," he nodded, "but I have the best job in the world, leading a Special Forces unit in the field. I don't think an extra stripe and a few more bucks in my pay packet would compensate for losing it."
"Well, think about it, son. I intend to make some noises about you, Sergeant Welland. How would you feel about…"
Guy was already shaking his head, grinning, "If you're talking about a commission, Admiral, you can forget it. In the SAS, we were organized into four man squads, and they weren’t officers. Like Lieutenant Talley, I don't think I'd want to lose that kind of action."
"It could mean command of your own unit, Sergeant. You've done good work. I think you could be wasted as second-in-command."
Admiral Brooks had to be content with that. "Fair enough. Just be careful what you do in London. It's not a Third World shithole, so they won't put up with the kind of mischief you got up to in Iran."