mentioned. Everyone is to lay low until after the National Assembly
vote. Apparently, intelligence reports have revealed secret business
dealings between Kang and the president of South Korea that go well
beyond their known public friendship. The president is afraid of
losing his support against the National Assembly measure if a
potentially embarrassing investigation is initiated."
"Doesn't he understand the magnitude of the risk involved with the
weapons Kang possesses?" Summer asked incredulously.
Gunn nodded. "The president has iterated that once the resolution has
been voted upon, he will request an immediate and full investigation
from the Korean authorities into Kang's involvement with the sinking of
the Sea Rover and his potential connections to North Korea. In the
meantime, he has authorized Homeland Security to issue a heightened
domestic security advisory, with emphasis on aircraft and marine
vessels arriving from Japan and South Korea."
The younger Pitt began pacing across the room in frustration. "It's
too little too late," Dirk finally said in a low tone. "Promoting the
removal of U.S. forces in South Korea is part of Kang's strategy, using
the perceived terrorist threat from Japan as a diversion. Don't you
see? If he's going to attempt a strike on the U.S." it will happen
before the vote comes up in the National Assembly."
"Which is just ten days from now," Gunn said.
"Then we have to anticipate Kang's next move," Pitt injected with a
logical calmness. "We know he operates a large shipping line and
therefore has comprehensive knowledge of American port facilities. It
would figure that he would try to bring the weapons in via a commercial
freighter, most likely on the West Coast."
"Much easier than smuggling it on an airplane," Giordino agreed.
"Probably send them over on a Japanese-flagged carrier."
"Or perhaps the elusive Baekje" Dirk added.
"Yaeger has the rundown on what to look for in the way of biological
components and likely storage," Gunn said. "I'll see that customs is
appropriately educated for their port inspections."
"That may still be too late," Pitt replied. "They could release the
agent as they're sailing into port, contaminating the whole region
before they dock. Think of San Francisco Bay, for example."
"Or even before they arrive at port, if there is a prevailing wind. The
release in the Aleutians was apparently launched by boat offshore of
Yunaska Island, so it's certainly possible they could strike without
entering port," Dirk said.
"The Coast Guard is tasked with port security under Homeland Security
jurisdiction and presently boards and inspects all incoming commercial
vessels shortly before arrival in port," noted Webster.
"But do they board and inspect offshore commercial vessels that are not
port bound?" Dirk asked.
"I do not believe that the Coast Guard's resources are sufficient for
that to be considered part of their security mission. They have beefed
up their sea marshal program but still have a limited number of vessels
available that they can put to sea. Asking for expanded coverage along
the entire West Coast is well beyond their resource ability."
"What about the Navy?" Summer asked. "Why can't some ships of the
Pacific Fleet be pressed into service? With the national security at
risk, it seems to me we should press every available military vessel
into blockade duty."
"A good question with a sticky answer," Gunn responded. "It's a gray
area of the Navy's mission. They're never big on playing a supporting
role to the Coast Guard. They'd likely balk at the request until we
got the secretary of defense or the White House to press the issue.
I'll bring it up with the vice president, but, realistically, we're
talking a week at best before they could be brought online. And that
might be too late."
"There is another option," Pitt said, reaching into a desk drawer and
withdrawing a daily report of NUMA research vessel assignments. "Let's
see, the Pacific Explorer just arrived in Vancouver, the Blue Gill is
conducting a marine survey off Drake's Bay north of San Francisco, and
the Deep Endeavor is testing a submersible in San Diego. It's not a
fleet of battleships but I can reassign three of my research vessels to
be in position off the major West Coast metropolitan ports assisting
the Coast Guard in two days."
"That would be a significant boost in offshore resources. And I'm sure
the Coast Guard would be grateful for the support," Webster said.
"Call it a temporary loan," Pitt said. "At least until Rudi can find a
way to bill back the charges."
"I'm sure we can work out some sort of compensation for our support
during this heightened state of alert," Gunn said, eyeing Webster with
a sharklike grin.
"It's settled, then. The West Coast NUMA fleet will initiate offshore
bomb-sniffing exercises at once. One thing, though," Pitt said to
Webster in a rigid tone. "Kang already sank one of my vessels, I don't
want to lose another. I want an armed cutter in the vicinity of my
ships at all times."
"Agreed. The interdiction teams will be alerted as well to the
possibility of an armed response."
"Good. Our team here will coordinate with the regional Coast Guard
surveillance squadrons. Rudi, you'll have to tear yourself out of the
headquarters building. I'd like you to fly to San Francisco to set up
the Blue Gillwith the regional Coast Guard squadron and then see that
the Pacific Explorer is similarly assigned in the Seattle/ Vancouver
region. Dirk and Summer, I'd like you back on the Deep Endeavor in San
Diego to assist with surveillance off Southern California," Pitt
directed.
"What about me, boss?" Giordino asked with mock indignation. "Don't I
get a boat inspector's pass?"
"Oh, no," Pitt replied with a mischievous smile. "I have something
much higher in store for you."
There was little fanfare when a pair of scruffy tugboats began slowly
nudging the Sea Launch platform Odyssey away from her home dock. The
excitement surrounding a new launch had waned over the years, to the
extent that only a handful of family, friends, and corporate managers
stood and waved good-bye to the crew. A smaller platform crew also
brought out fewer than normal well-wishers. Only forty-two men manned
the big platform, roughly twenty fewer than usual, as Launch Director
Stamp held back many of the launch engineers to aid the fire repairs
being made on the support ship. Captain Christiano watched restlessly
from the bridge of the Sea Launch Commander v& the rocket-laden
platform crept away from the pier, offering a farewell to the crew and
vessel with a long blast from his ship's horn. Several decks beneath
him, an army of electricians and computer technicians worked feverishly
around the clock to repair the control room fire damage in hopes that
the command ship could follow the platform out to sea in another three
or four days.
Christiano's greeting was m
et by a short horn blast from the Odyssey
that seemed to come from the clouds. The Odyssey's main platform deck
towered nearly a hundred feet above the water. An oceangoing vessel in
her own right, the floating platform relied on tugboats to get her
cleanly in and out of port. Although she could position herself on a
dime, visibility of small boats and harbor obstacles was precarious
from the pilothouse positioned high atop the structure so tugs were
utilized for safe navigation in congested waters.
The massive structure moved slowly past the port entrance jetty,
appearing like a mammoth tarantula creeping across the calm waters. The
converted North Sea oil platform rode high atop five thick support
columns aligned along each flank. Slicing through the waves barely
above the surface, the base of the columns rested upon a huge pair of
underwater pontoons, each stretching over four hundred feet in length.
Affixed to each aft pontoon hull was a pair of four-bladed propellers,
which could push the ungainly craft through the swells at speeds of up
to 12 knots. At over thirty thousand tons of displacement, the Odyssey
was the largest self-propelled catamaran vessel in the world and easily
the most impressive to the eye. Gliding past the entrance to Long
Beach Harbor, the platform crept another two miles offshore before the
tugs ground to a halt.
"Stand by to take up tow lines barked the Odyssey's commander, a
no-nonsense ex-tanker captain named Hennessey.
The tugs released their tow lines which were quickly reeled in by the
Odyssey's crew. The platform's four three-thousand-horsepower direct
current motors were engaged, and, as the tugs peeled off to the sides,
the Odyssey moved forward under her own power. Riding high atop its
large pair of pontoons, the crew on the elevated platform swayed slowly
back and forth as if in a skyscraper during a windstorm. The powerful
Zenit rocket, tightly secured in its horizontal berth, was immune to
the gentle motion. The experienced crew went casually about their
duties, falling into a relaxed routine during the slow journey toward
the launch site as the beige coast of California gradually disappeared
from view. Hennessey gently increased power until the platform was
chugging along at 9 knots, then laid in a course to the southwest
toward the designated launch site fifteen hundred miles south of Hawaii
at the equator. No one suspected it was to be a destination they would
never see.
Fifteen hundred miles to the west, the Koguryo raced across the Pacific
like a greyhound chasing a rabbit. Only a diversionary stop in the
Ogasawara Islands to retrieve Tongju had slowed her pace since
departing Inchon. After skirting a storm front west of Midway, the
vessel had encountered calm seas and a strong tailwind, allowing her to
churn east at top speed. Stripped of her bulky cable-laying equipment
and the miles of heavy cable normally stored belowdecks, the Koguryo
rode nine feet higher in the water than usual. Her four diesel engines
pushed the lightened ship along at a rapid 21 knots, propelling her
across the ocean at nearly six hundred miles a day.
On board, the large team of engineers and technicians readied
themselves for the coming Zenit rocket launch. A launch control
center, nearly an exact duplicate of the control room on the Sea Launch
Commander, had been constructed on a lower deck of the Koguryo and was
the site of continuous activity. The final batch of launch software
had been received from the Inchon lab and the software support team
loaded up a series of mock launch scenarios for the operations team.
Each day, the launch team worked their way through a series of sample
test launches until, after a week at sea, the simulations were
performed flawlessly. Told only that they would be controlling the
launch of a Kang satellite from a floating platform, the team had no
idea of the illicit mission they were actually supporting and looked
forward to firing off the actual rocket.
Tongju utilized the time at sea to hone his tactics for the assault on
the Odyssey. He and his commando team pored over blueprints of the
launch platform, calculating strike positions and coordinating force
movements, until he had a minute-by-minute plan of attack. The
commandos memorized their moves, cleaned their weapons, and generally
stayed out of sight of the other crewmen as the ship moved closer and
closer to its target. After an evening meal with his assault team,
Tongju invited his second-in-command Kim back to his cabin. In the
privacy of his room, he explained Kang's order to scuttle the
Koguryo.
"I have provided Captain Lee with the rendezvous position where we are
to meet the waiting freighter. I did not inform him, however, of the
plan to sink his ship, only that we would be transferring the launch
crew to the other vessel for safety."
"You do not trust his obedience to Kang?" Kim asked, unaffected by the
prospect of murdering two hundred of his fellow shipmates.
"No, it is not wise. No sea captain desires to sink his own ship and
abandon his crew. We shall make our escape without him."
"How is the ship to be destroyed?"
Tongju reached under his cot and pulled out a small satchel, which he
handed to Kim.
"Semtex plastic explosives with wireless detonators. I intend to
activate the charges while the ship is in motion."
He walked to a bulkhead and pointed at a small cutaway diagram of the
Koguryo pinned to the wall.
"By blasting a series of holes in the forward hull and bow sections
beneath the waterline, the momentum of the ship will force a rapid
flooding of the lower decks. The vessel will plunge to the bottom like
a submarine before the crew has a chance to react."
"There may still be the chance for some to escape on the lifeboats,"
Kim countered.
Tongju shook his head with a malignant smile. "I have applied a liquid
weld compound to all of the lifeboat davits. None of those boats will
be leaving this vessel without a considerable effort."
"And what about us?" Kim asked, a slight uncertainty creeping into his
voice.
"You and two others will leave with me on the assault boat. I will
convince Lee to let us depart the ship for an advanced surveillance
check once the freighter is detected within radar range. When he has
brought the Koguryo back up to speed, we will detonate the charges."
Kim let out a quiet sigh and nodded deeply. "It will not be easy to
abandon my assault team," he said quietly.
"They are all good men but expendable. I will leave it to you to pick
the two men to join us. But first we must get the explosives planted.
Take your demolitions man, Hyun, and set the charges in the forward bow
compartments E, F, and G. Don't let any of the ship's crew observe
you."
Kim grasped the satchel tightly and nodded again. "It will be done,"
he said, then left the cabin.
After he left, Tongju stared at the diagram of the ship for several
minute
s. The whole operation was a hazardous mission fraught with
risks and hidden dangers. But that was exactly the way he liked it.
On a collision course with evil, the Odyssey plodded along from Long
Beach at its meager pace,-the ungainly assembly churning up ten miles
of foam over the course of an hour. Cutting past the California
channel island of San Clemente, the Odyssey cruised due west of San
Diego shortly before midnight and soon after departed the territorial
waters of the United States. Fishing boats and pleasure craft
gradually vanished from the horizons as the platform pushed farther
into a desolate section of the Pacific Ocean west of Baja California.
By the end of the third day at sea, cruising some seven hundred miles
from the nearest landfall, the Odyssey shared the ocean with only a
small dot on the northeast horizon.
Captain Hennessey watched with mild interest as the distant speck
slowly grew larger, bearing down on a southerly heading. When it
approached within five miles, he aimed his binoculars at the vessel,
eye-tog a stout blue ship with a yellow funnel. In the fading evening
dusk,
Hennessey made it out to be a research vessel or special-purpose ship
rather than a commercial freighter. He noted with annoyed curiosity
that the ship was on a perfect collision course with the Odyssey's
current heading. Hennessey stuck close to the helm for the next hour,
watching the other vessel as it inched to within a mile of his
starboard flank before appearing to slow and nose toward the southwest
behind him.
"He's slowing to cross our wake," Hennessey said to the helmsman,
dropping his binoculars from the mysterious blue ship. "The whole
Dirk Pitt18-Black Wind Page 42