by Cliff Happy
“Aye-aye, sir,” she said in agreement and turned to head back to the torpedo room.
Upon descending into the torpedo room, Kristen half expected to find Cheng waiting for her with his pistol in hand. Instead, she found him seated near the damaged drone, waiting calmly for her return and speaking quietly with two of his men. Like all the SEALs, both of these men were armed.
“What’s up?” Cheng asked as she returned.
“Nothing,” she lied. “I just needed to check something out.”
“Is something wrong with one of the drones?” Cheng asked, clearly interested.
“Nothing I can’t fix,” she assured him. The other two SEALs watched her curiously as she grabbed several tools and prepared to climb back under the second drone and insert a new computer chip.
“If there’s something wrong,” Cheng offered as he knelt down beside her and motioned to one of his men, “Vance was a sonar tech before he joined the Teams, he could help.”
Kristen looked at the tough looking SEAL Cheng had pointed out. He was slender with shaggy hair, a thick beard and mustache.
“No thanks,” she answered not wanting anyone else to lay a finger on the drones. “I think I got it. Besides, we’re running in ultra-quiet mode,” she reminded them. “You guys are supposed to be sleeping.”
“What do the fucking Koreans have that could find this baby?” the third SEAL asked, as if they were sitting comfortably dockside back in Bremerton instead of thirty miles off the North Korean coastline.
“Oh,” she said off handedly as she began to slide under the drone. “Nothing much,” she answered. “Except a Tral class corvette about a mile from here, searching for us with their active sonar.”
The three SEALs looked at one another, and then Cheng asked, “Are you serious?”
“Quite serious,” she answered. “So, if I were you three, I’d crawl back into your hammocks and try to keep it down.”
Cheng sent his two men back to their hammocks and then lowered his voice a little. “Were you serious about that corvette, or was that just to get rid of my men?”
“Oh, I’m serious all right,” she answered as she began repairing the damage.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she lied trying not to think about how many ways this man could probably kill her with just his bare hands.
Cheng leaned closer. “Bullshit,” he swore, his voice now deadly serious.
Kristen glanced up at him, seeing his dark eyes staring at her mercilessly. She swallowed hard, wondering where the men Brodie was sending to back her up were.
“Now, if something is wrong with one of those drones, I need to know about it,” he said bluntly.
Kristen disengaged her hands from where they’d been working inside the drone. She then slowly slipped out from under it. As she did, she saw two Seawolf crewmen, each wearing bulletproof vests climbing down the ladder. They were armed with pistols. She looked back at Cheng, wondering if she could trust him. “All right, Lieutenant,” she answered switching to Mandarin Chinese which she knew he would understand, but no one else would. “Someone intentionally sabotaged this drone.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. She studied his face, searching for any hint of deception.
“Who?” he asked, now speaking exclusively in Mandarin.
“You tell me,” she told him bluntly. “You and your men have been down here with the drones the whole time.”
“My men?” he asked. “That’s insane. Without these drones we haven’t a chance!”
“Well, all I know is that eight hours ago both of these drones were working perfectly and now one of their guidance chips has mysteriously disappeared.”
“It sure the hell wasn’t one of my men!” he hissed angrily. He looked around. “Hell, how do I know you just didn’t screw up and are trying to cover your own ass?”
Kristen had heard enough. She was tired after less than four hours of sleep in the last thirty. The Seawolf was evading multiple North Korean patrols, and was, currently, going where no American submarine had any business being on a mission she prayed to God they would never have to actually do. She had no interest in arguing with anyone at the moment. “Think what you want,” she told him simply. “While you try to figure out who did this, I’m going to fix it.”
It took her less than five minutes to replace the missing guidance chip. Once she’d sealed the drone back up, she reattached the test pack and ran a diagnostic while Cheng waited with her. He looked as angry as she felt.
“I’m telling you,” he said after several minutes of silence. “All of my men are solid,” he assured her, still speaking in Mandarin.
Kristen looked at him, keeping her voice down. “If you say so, but unless you or one of your men saw someone sneak down here and start disassembling one of these puppies, then I don’t think we can afford to be too careful,” she pointed out as the test pack chirped.
“What does it say?” Cheng asked with what sounded like sincere concern in his tone.
“It’s all right,” Kristen replied. “I just have to reprogram it, and it’ll be good to go.”
Cheng stayed with her during the reprogramming and as she ran a final check on each drone. Once satisfied they were working perfectly, Kristen put her tools away and took a seat on the deck, her back leaning against the bulkhead directly in front of the drones.
“Now what?” Cheng asked, still conversing in Mandarin.
“I’m not a spy,” she replied. “But whoever did this was probably planning on damaging both drones and either they didn’t have time, or I interrupted them when I came down here earlier. Regardless, I’m sitting right here until those drones are launched.”
Cheng had been quiet since the revelation that it could have been one of his men. He took a seat next to her, and she could see he was struggling with the possibility. “I just can’t believe one of my guys would do it,” he argued. “We’ve been through hell together.”
Kristen rolled her head on her shoulders, trying to loosen up her tense shoulders. She had a splitting headache. “Are all of these men yours?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No, my team is from DEVGRU,” he explained. The Naval Special Warfare Group, or DEVGRU, was more commonly known as SEAL Team Six. He motioned toward where some others were sleeping peacefully. “The SEALs handling the mini sub are with SDVT-1 out of Hawaii.”
“SDVT-1?” she asked, not familiar with the acronym.
“SEAL Delivery Vehicle Team,” he replied.
“And your guys?” she asked, wanting to keep talking so she wouldn’t fall asleep.
“We’re what you might call the business end of the spear.” He then returned to the matter at hand. “Every SEAL is vetted. We all have Top Secret security clearances.”
“As did every successful spy or saboteur in history,” she reminded him.
She felt herself beginning to drift off and her headed bobbed slightly.
“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Cheng offered, “I’ll keep an eye out.”
She shook her head, forcing her eyes open again, cursing herself for almost dozing off. “No,” she replied. “I’m not letting these drones out of my sight until they are on the other side of the tubes.” She glanced at Cheng who was staring across the torpedo room in deep concentration.
“It doesn’t add up,” he whispered.
“Not everything has to make sense,” she replied and thought of Brodie. Nothing about what she was feeling for him made sense. None of it was logical, and, as she leaned her head back, she told herself she was just reacting to stress. Once they were out of danger, the unfamiliar feelings she was experiencing would disappear and everything would return to normal.
Her eyes grew heavier, and she readjusted her position slightly.
“Normal,” she whispered as sleep took her.
Chapter Forty Three
Torpedo Handling Room, USS Seawolf
Kristen’s eyes snapped opened.
&nb
sp; Realizing she’d fallen asleep, she sat bolt upright. She immediately looked at the drones and saw that they looked undisturbed. A quick glance at her watch told her she’d been out for only a few minutes. She stood up and saw the two Seawolf crewmen leaning against a rack of torpedoes and talking in low whispers. They looked bored and not too alert themselves. Kristen then heard hoarse whispers coming from her left near the starboard bulkhead. Kristen shook her head, forcing herself awake and alert. She then moved to see who else was awake.
She came around a rack of cruise missiles and saw Lieutenant Cheng talking to the SEAL named Vance. Kristen at first thought nothing of it, but then noticed their posture. Vance stood with his right leg back, his left hand up defensively. Cheng had both of his hands up as if trying to calm Vance down.
Oh, shit!
“That’s crazy, Ell-Tee,” Vance whispered harshly.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too,” Cheng replied easily. But Kristen could see the Lieutenant was nervous. She then saw Vance’s face. His eyes were wild looking, and his pupils were dilated. His left hand was trembling slightly.
“I just had to be sure, you know what I mean?” Cheng said calmly. “It’s just that no one else really has the background with sonar,” Cheng pointed out in a soft whisper.
Kristen felt her heart pounding in her chest when she saw something in Vance’s right hand, partially concealed by his body. All the SEALs were armed, plus there were weapons and ammunition cases lying about everywhere.
“Why don’t you talk to her?” Vance asked, pointing a finger at Kristen accusingly. “Hell, Boss! We’ve known each other for two years.” He then added, “Fuck, man! We’ve eaten the same shit and sweated gallons together. Damn, Brian! You know me!” Vance insisted, but Kristen saw a glint of metal in his right hand, and she realized he’d drawn his pistol.
Oh, shit!
Cheng nodded, and Kristen realized the situation was rapidly getting out of hand. She could see nervous sweat on Vance’s forehead, and one of his eyes twitched nervously. He looked to be high on something. A narcotic perhaps, but she could only guess having zero experience with drugs.
“Why don’t you put down the gun, Vance?” Cheng asked, keeping his voice calm and soothing.
Vance’s eyes narrowed slightly as he focused on Kristen. “It was her,” he said accusingly. “Just another bitch out to fuck me over,” he said raising his voice slightly.
Kristen took a step backward, but as she did, Vance’s right hand sprang up, and he leveled a pistol at her. She knew next to nothing about pistols and had no idea what kind it was. It was big, it was pointed at her, and she was terrified.
“Where are you going, you stupid bitch?” Vance demanded. The hand holding the pistol was trembling, and he steadied it by gripping the pistol with both hands.
“Take it easy, Vance,” Cheng said, his voice still steady, but Kristen noticed Cheng’s right hand lower to his side as he adjusted his position, moving slightly in front of Kristen.
“It’s her fault, Brian,” Vance said to Cheng. “It’s her fault, man.”
“I know,” Cheng agreed soothingly. “Just stay frosty, Bro… just talk to me.”
“She’s just like the others,” Vance said. “Just like Erin,” he added.
Kristen saw tears beginning to fall from Vance’s eyes.
“She fucked us!” he snapped bitterly. “It’s her fault.”
“I know,” Cheng said, and motioned Kristen back with a slight movement of his right hand that was now near his own pistol. “Erin was all bad,” Cheng agreed. “She fucked you over for sure,” he added. “But I’m here,” Cheng reminded Vance. “Me and the rest of your brothers are right here with you, man. We still got your back. Just like Afghanistan. Just like Iraq and Pakistan. We’re still with you, Bro.”
Vance seemed to be in pain, and Kristen saw his face twitch. “Fucking bitch,” he growled dangerously. “It’s her fault,” he repeated, his eyes glaring at Kristen wildly.
“What’s her fault Vance?” Cheng continued to talk. His right hand moved ever so slowly toward his weapon.
“I just wanted to stop the drones, man. That’s all,” Vance whispered. His eyes had become filled with desperation, like a wild animal trapped in a corner. “No one was going to get hurt. The op would’ve been scrubbed, and we could’ve all gone back home.”
Cheng nodded in understanding. “Okay, just relax, Vance. We’ll get through this. We’ve been in worse shit than this,” he said easily, inserting himself a little further between Kristen and Vance.
“If she hadn’t poked her fucking nose back into that damn drone, I’d have fixed the other one, too,” Vance explained. “I just needed another ten minutes and then….” he grimaced. His left hand released the pistol and gripped the side of his head tightly. “This bitch had to stick her fucking nose into it!”
Kristen felt her body trembling in sheer terror. She tried to slowly ease back, but the hand holding the pistol suddenly tensed. She grimaced, expecting a bullet. But none came.
“Whoa, buddy,” Cheng said, his own nervousness now showing. “Come on, man, put the pistol down. You and I can sit and talk. No one has to get hurt.”
“No one was gonna get hurt,” Vance snapped loudly. “We would’ve been able to go home no problem. Don’t you see?” he pleaded. Tears were streaming down his cheeks as his left hand gripped the side of his head so tightly he was tearing hair out of his scalp. “No one else was going to have to die on another stupid mission; no one was going to get hurt…”
Then, startling all three of them, Kristen heard one of the sailors from the Seawolf call out to them, “Hey, what’s going on over there?”
For a brief instant, Vance’s eyes glanced toward the two Seawolf sailors. In that brief instant, Cheng went for his weapon.
“Noooo!” Kristen heard herself shouting to no avail as she tried to prevent the cataclysm she feared if a weapon was discharged inside the torpedo room with so much ordnance lying around, but there was nothing she could do to stop the chain of events that had been set in motion.
Vance’s pistol fired as Cheng managed to draw his own. At the same time, Cheng finished stepping between her and Vance.
The sound of the pistol shot was instantly followed by Cheng slamming back into Kristen as he was hit by the first shot. But, as he fell back into her, she heard a second deafening roar as Cheng fired.
Kristen went down with Cheng on top of her. His pistol fell from his hand as they crashed to the deck in a heap. Vance—still on his feet—turned toward the two Seawolf crewmen, his pistol still in his hand. He moved gracefully, handling the weapon like a surgeon might handle a scalpel. He fired several quick shots that once more reverberated around the torpedo room like someone beating on the inside of a steel pipe with a sledgehammer.
As he fired at the two Seawolf sailors, she saw something ricochet off the bulkhead directly behind Vance. But, a moment later, he’d apparently dealt with both of the seamen and turned back toward her.
“Stop firing for God’s sake!” Kristen realized she was shouting at them all. “We’re in a torpedo room!”
Vance had crouched down, his left hand on his hip trying to stop the flow of blood from where Cheng’s bullet had hit him. He half crawled over to Kristen, keeping low and using the torpedoes as cover.
“What the fuck’s going on?” a SEAL shouted from somewhere in the torpedo room. There could be no doubt that every SEAL was now awake and moving for his weapons. But they had no idea what was happening.
“Boss? Talk to us!” another SEAL shouted from a different direction.
She looked down at Cheng and saw a blood stain growing ever larger on his chest. He was draped across her legs. She recalled from her basic first aid something about applying pressure to stop the bleeding, so she pressed a hand down on the wound and immediately felt the familiar warm, sticky blood between her fingers.
Vance knelt down directly in front of her and Cheng, looking down at his lieutenan
t in apparent shock. But the smoking pistol was still in his hand. Kristen could see brief flashes of movement between the torpedoes and missiles as the other SEALs were now moving, clearing the torpedo room.
“Your lieutenant is down,” she called out.
Vance looked up at her and raised the pistol. “Tell them to stay back,” he ordered. He then looked down at Cheng. “Sorry, Ell-Tee. It’s not my fault,” he whispered in a strange, distant voice. “It’s all her fault. She left me. She left me,” he whispered.
“Who’s shooting?” one of the SEALs asked from one direction as she saw movement from another direction. She couldn’t see exactly what they were doing, but it seemed they were moving to take Vance down from multiple directions at once.
She then heard another voice report, “We’ve got two friendlies down, both KIA.”
Vance was almost hyperventilating as he struggled with whatever demons had taken possession of his tortured soul. He turned on her, the business end of the pistol just inches from her face; so close she could smell the burnt powder residue. His eyes looked back frantically, “Tell them to stay back….” he told her, not wanting his buddies to see him like this.
“He wants you to stay back,” she heard a terrified voice call out and then realized it was hers.
“Boss?” Vance spoke to Cheng who’d passed out and would bleed to death soon if she didn’t get him aid. “What do I do now, Boss?” he cried out.
“Vance, is that you buddy?” a voice called out.
“Stay back, Doc!” Vance responded in warning. The pistol moved toward where Kristen saw movement behind several torpedoes.
“Whatever you say, man,” came the reply. “Just tell us what’s going on, so we can help.”
Vance’s eyes barely seemed human now, they were frantically looking everywhere like a caged animal. He turned sharply, raising the pistol at another flash of movement.
“Stay back, Trip!” he warned frantically to another SEAL moving behind a rack of cruise missiles.
“I didn’t want this,” he whispered as he turned back to her, his eyes registering horrors that Kristen could only imagine. He was as close to going over the edge as anyone could possibly be.