Sea Devil

by Richard P. Henrick

  A brick pathway took them past a large fish pond that was covered with lily pads. As they approached the entrance to the barn, Dr. Blackwater sped up to lead the way inside. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a key, and inserted it into the padlock recessed in the barn’s front door. It triggered with a click, and the old-timer proceeded to pull the door open.

  Sean Lafferty really didn’t know what to expect as he followed his two escorts inside. As the lights were switched on, he spotted a large stack of peat. Stored behind these squared segments that would be used as fuel were dozens of wooden crates. Upon closer examination, Sean could see that each container had the official RUC seal on it. The Royal Ulster Constabulary were the local police force of Northern Ireland, and as Sean spotted the inventory list stenciled on the sides of each crate, he couldn’t help but shake his head in wonder.

  Crates of M-16 rifles lay on top of a container holding Browning M-60 machine guns and endless rounds of ammunition. An even larger storage container held a 90-mm recoilless rifle.

  “Ah, our spoils from the Newry raid,” observed the wounded terrorist.

  “This is the first time I’ve seen it all together like this, and it certainly is a sight to behold.”

  “It’s more than that,” broke a deep voice from behind.

  “It’s the future destiny of Ireland.”

  Sean pivoted in time to see the tall, gaunt individual from whose lips these words were uttered enter the barn. Bernard Loughlin had a red bandana tied around his forehead, and wore a stained sweatshirt with the seal of the University of California at Berkeley embossed on it. With fluid strides he walked to Sean’s side, looked him over with his good eye, and then reached out to hug him.

  “Comrade, it’s good to see you up like this,” welcomed the IRB’s co-founder.

  “When I last saw you, you were in such a weakened state that you didn’t even recognize me as I carried you up to your bed. And now just look at you, well on your way to a full recovery.”

  “Thanks to all of you,” Sean added humbly.

  “I believe it was a Japanese philosopher who once said, You only live twice. Once when you’re born, and once when you look death in the face. I, too, have come back from a serious combat wound like yours, Sean, and understand how confusing it is for you right now. Why I bet you’ve been up there tormenting yourself, trying to figure out why it was Patrick who was taken and not you.”

  “How did you know?” Sean asked, astonished.

  Bernard Loughlin grinned slyly.

  “You’re forgetting that you’re talking to someone who has already looked death in the face, Comrade. So enough of your soul searching

  Your mere presence here is reason enough to celebrate, even if your mission wasn’t a successful one.”

  “I still say that it was a daft idea from the very start,” reflected the physician.

  “Let’s not get into that again!” countered Bernard Loughlin firmly.

  “We tried and we failed, it’s as simple as that.”

  “At least our goal was clear,” offered Marie.

  “If we were able to acquire the crown jewels, the enemy would be on their knees right now, begging to get them back.”

  “How very ironic it is that soon they’ll be in this very same position, even without those jewels,” said the one-eyed terrorist.

  Noting that Sean didn’t seem to know what he was talking about, Bernard turned to address the physician.

  “Has he been told about our find yet?”

  “We were just about to show him when you arrived,” answered Dr. Blackwater.

  “Good,” retorted Bernard.

  “I’m eager to see his face when he sees the object his own father was responsible for bringing to us.”

  The ponytailed terrorist beckoned Sean to join him beside the crate containing the recoilless rifle. There was a large object covered by a green tarp on a pallet.

  Not until all three members of his audience were gathered around him did Bernard pull off the tarp. Exposed for all to see was a seven-foot-long cylindrical canister that had a set of stubby iron fins mounted on its tail.

  “Is that a bomb?” Sean asked.

  Bernard’s good eye sparkled as he breathlessly answered.

  “That it is, Sean. But don’t mistake it for just an ordinary piece of ordnance. For the device that you see before you has just made the Irish Republican Brotherhood into a nuclear superpower!”

  “Are you saying it’s an atomic bomb?” queried Sean.

  “Why, that’s impossible. Come off it. This is a practical joke, isn’t it?”

  Bernard’s expression was deadly serious as he responded to this.

  “No, it isnt a joke. Comrade. Doctor, why don’t you explain how this device came into our possession.”

  The physician cleared his throat and proceeded to relate to Sean the story of Liam Lafferty’s incredible discovery in the waters of the Irish Sea. As Dr.

  Blackwater concluded this tale, Bernard added, “I’ve got to admit I didn’t believe it myself when the Doc first called me. But then I did a little checking around with our contact at Royal Navy headquarters at Northwood, and this is what I learned. On the very night that your father witnessed the flash in the sky that he reported and then pulled this device on board, an American B-52 Stratofortress collided with another aircraft while initiating an in-flight refueling. Both planes went down in the Irish Sea, and as best as we can learn, the B-52 was carrying a load of four atomic bombs at the time. Two of these weapons were subsequently found by the Yanks, while Liam Lafferty pulled in the one you see before us. Now, I know this tale sounds incredible, Sean, but you have my word that it’s God’s honest truth.”

  With his gaze still locked on the shiny steel canister, Sean stuttered, “I still can’t believe it. My own father pulled an atomic bomb from the sea without anyone but us knowing about it? Why, its absolutely amazing!”

  “Don’t forget that he’s still under the impression that it’s a piece of a satellite,” said Dr. Blackwater.

  “And he’s relying on me to negotiate a suitable reward.”

  “We’ll pay him handsomely for his efforts, sure enough,” offered Bernard.

  As the reality of this extraordinary tale began to sink in. Scan dared to vent his curiosity completely.

  “Taking it for granted that what you say is true, may I ask what in the hell the Brotherhood plans to do with this thing? If it really is an A-bomb, it could kill millions!”

  “We realize that,” said the doctor.

  “And before we go and rush into anything drastic, we’re taking a long, hard look at our alternatives.”

  “Alternatives?” repeated Bernard.

  “I thought I made myself absolutely clear in this matter. Doctor. Because as far as I’m concerned, there are no alternatives. This bomb is a blessing from above, and it will be used where it can inflict the greatest amount of injury on our sworn enemy, that being English soil!”

  “I beg to differ with you,” countered Tyronne Blackwater.

  “What you’re talking about using here is the most powerful explosive device ever created by man. If it was to detonate right now, half of County Caven would be incinerated, with the resulting radioactive fallout poisoning the land for a thousand years to come.

  To set it off in a city the site of London would cause untold havoc. There’s no telling how many innocents, and how many IRB supporters, would die from the resulting blast, firestorm, and fallout. And don’t forget, this same radiation will be borne on the winds and will settle down in Europe, the Soviet Union, and even in Ireland itself. That alone will be enough to quickly turn the world community against our cause for all time to come.”

  “I’m not talking about setting it off in London,” returned Bernard.

  “What I had in mind was an isolated military installation.”

  “Why do we have to detonate it at all?” asked Marie.

  “If you ask me, the mere fact that we possess
the bomb is enough to blackmail the Brits into meeting our demands and then some.”

  Bernard thought about this for a moment.

  “That’s an interesting plan, comrade, but any blackmail attempt involves some degree of trust between the parties involved. And when the Brits and the Yanks learn that we have the bomb, they’ll come down on us so fast that we’ll never know what hit us.”

  “If we’re not going to blackmail them with it, and it won’t be exploded in London, just what do you plan to do with the bomb, Bernard?”

  The one-eyed terrorist intently scanned the faces of his audience as he answered.

  “Actually, I’ve been pondering that same question ever since I learned the exact nature of this device, and so far this is what I’ve come up with. It was released in the papers last week that the Brits will be christening their first Trident-missile carrying submarine six days from now. This celebration will be taking place in Scotland, at the Falsane naval installation on Gare Loch. As befitting such a christening, the Queen and the Royal Family will be attending the launching. What I propose is to spoil their little party by sneaking the bomb into Gare Loch and having it detonate just as the Queen smashes that bottle of champagne over the sub’s bow.”

  Briefly halting at this point to allow his shocked audience a moment to digest this, Bernard continued, this time with a hint of passion in his tone.

  “Just think of it. Comrades. With one mighty blast, we’ll rid the earth of not only one of the deadliest armadas of nuclear submarines to ever sail the seas, but the Royal Family as well!”

  “Good heavens, Bernard!” managed Dr. Blackwater, who shook his head in amazement.

  Marie Barrett was shocked into speechlessness. Beside her, Sean’s brow narrowed in deep thought.

  “I must admit, that’s an incredible plan, Bernard,” said Sean.

  “And though it all sounds amazingly simple, I have two questions for you. How do you plan to sneak the device into Gare Loch, and just how does one go about detonating a bomb such as this one?

  Surely there’s a protective lock on it of some type to keep it from going off either by accident or by unauthorized hands such as our own.”

  “Sean’s got a good point there,” added the doctor.

  “I believe the lock he’s talking about is called a PAL, or Permissive Action Link. Supposedly the only way for a nuclear bomb to be armed is by a special code relayed by the United States President in times of crisis.”

  Bernard wasted no time with his reply.

  “That may very well be. Doctor. But as Sean here so astutely observed, first we have to get the device into Gare Loch, which just so happens to be across the Firth of Clyde from Glasgow Harbor. If I remember correctly, isn’t that oceangoing tug that we recently purchased to assist us in our gun-running operations still being kept for us at the docks there?”

  “That it is, Bernard,” answered the physician.

  “As you know, I handled the transaction myself. The vessel is registered in my name, and it will be kept in Glasgow Harbor until a more suitable location is found for it.”

  “Then can any of you think of a more suitable platform on which to bring the bomb into Gare Loch?”

  offered Bernard with a sly grin.

  “Since the tug still carries Scottish papers and is home-ported nearby, no one should question its presence in the Firth of Clyde on the day of the christening. And who could blame its skipper for wanting to get as close as possible to Falsane to see all the festivities? Surely other surface craft will have similar ideas, and the authorities will have then” hands full keeping all of them at a proper distance.

  “Now, as to getting the bomb to explode once we get it there… since it’s obvious that we just can’t connect a fuse to the device and detonate it that way, we’re going to need the services of an expert. You all know about the new nuclear power station that the Republic is building outside of Dublin. Last year, when the ecologists were raising such a fuss about it, I re172 member hearing the project’s director speak regarding the nuclear industries safety record. The chap was bright and incredibly persuasive, and it was his dynamic personality more than anything else that helped save the project from certain defeat. I was so impressed that I did a little background check on him.

  “His name’s Dr. John Maguire. He was originally born in Shannon, yet he was schooled almost exclusively in the States. He got his undergraduate degree at MIT and his doctorate in nuclear physics at Cal Tech.

  After graduation, he went to work for the Sandia Corporation.

  This company is one of the world’s major designers of nuclear weapons, and I was somewhat surprised at the time that the Americans would allow an Irish citizen to be employed in such a sensitive position.

  Supposedly Maguire was disillusioned with the weapons business and took the position in Dublin as soon as it was offered to him.

  “Though I doubt we can count on the good doctor merely to volunteer his services, I believe we’ll be able to convince him that it will be in his best interests to do so. They say he’s quite the family man, and practically lives for his wife and two young daughters. Now do you suppose he’d be willing to share the secret of the bomb in exchange for his dear family’s safety?”

  “It sounds as if you have this entire operation pretty well thought out,” commented Sean.

  “I still don’t like it,” offered Tyronne Blackwater.

  “Nuclear weapons always have scared the death out of me. With the radiation and all, there are just too many unknown factors, and I say the risks outweigh the benefits.”

  Disappointed with this response, Bernard turned his attention to the only female present.

  “And what about you, Marie?”

  The redhead hesitated a moment before offering her opinion.

  “I must admit that it does sound tempting.

  With the Royal Family out of the way and the submarine base obliterated, the Brits will be devastated. And then it will be the IRB that will be negotiating from a position of power.”

  “I agree,” said Sean.

  “Even if we don’t come right out and take responsibility for the blast, we merely have to follow it with our planned summer offensive. With all the new weapons at our disposal, we’ll attack every single British military installation in Northern Ireland.

  Those poor Brits will be numbed by the loss of their beloved Royal Family, and I doubt they’ll be in much of a mood for fighting. In fact, I bet public sentiment will just say the hell with it, and Parliament will give in to our demands just to get us out of their hair.”

  Bernard nodded.

  “My sentiments exactly, Sean. This gift your father fished from the sea for us will soon enough take the fight out of them. That I can guarantee you. So if there’s no further discussion, I say let’s get on with it. Six days isn’t a hell of a lot of time to get an operation of this magnitude underway, and I’m going to need the full cooperation of each one of you to pull it off.

  “Marie, I want you to take off for Dublin at once.

  Find out all you can about Dr. John Maguire’s family life. I’ve got a feeling that some of the lads will soon be paying the good doctor a little visit.

  “And you’re going to have to carry your weight also, Sean — wound or no wound. I’d like you to be responsible for intelligence on the Falsane naval installation.

  We’re going to need to know its exact layout, and just where the Trident christening is going to take place. If you’ll just follow me over to the house, I’ll show you the charts of the area that I’ve already managed to lay my hands on.”

  “Come on, 111 go with you,” offered Marie.

  “Besides, I’d better get some food into that stomach of yours, Sean, or you’ll be of no use to us whatsoever.

  Are you coming, Doctor?”

  The physician heavily sighed.

  “I’ll be joining you in a moment. You go ahead while I lock up the place.”

  The three terrorists left t
he barn, leaving the owner of Cootehill House alone before the steel-encased, torpedo-like cylinder. With his eyes locked on the bomb, the weary physician mumbled softly to himself.

  “Liam Lafferty, my friend, now I’m not so certain that what you pulled from the sea was such a blessing after all.”

  Chapter Nine

  It was on a cold, windy night that Captain Mikhail Borisov and the crew of his Sea Devil arrived back in Kronstadt. No sooner did the mini-sub dock inside the moon pool of its specially designed support ship than a crisply uniformed junior officer presented himself at the gangplank.

  “Captain Borisov, let me be the first to welcome you home. If it’s convenient. Admiral Starobin would like you to be his guest at the Komsomol dining hall this evening.”

  Mikhail had been on the top deck of his vessel supervising the final docking procedures as this surprise invitation was delivered. Though he had been looking forward to a shower, a quick meal, and a long nap on his own, one couldn’t take such an invite lightly. He cleared his throat.

  “I’d be honored to accept. Lieutenant. But could you please ask the admiral to give me at the very least forty-five minutes to clean myself up in the officer’s club and get into a fresh uniform?”

  “Why of course, Captain. The admiral understands that you have only just come back from a long mission, and you have an hour to prepare yourself. Shall I send a car for you?”

  “Ill walk,” returned Mikhail curtly.

  With this the junior officer saluted smartly, clicked his heels together, and pivoted to return to headquarters.

  Mikhail looked on as he disappeared up the ladder that led from the moon pool

  “What’s the matter. Captain? Is there some sort of trouble?” queried a voice from behind.

  Mikhail turned his head and spotted the source of this query, his moustached chief engineer, who had just climbed up onto the deck via the mini-sub’s forward access way

  “No, Comrade Sosnovo, it’s nothing you need to be concerned with. It looks like I’ll be at the Komsomol dining hall, if you need me.”

  “So you couldn’t wait to get a fresh meal, huh Captain?”