The rope that had tied her hands lay under the table. She grabbed it and pushed the semi-conscious Joseph next to Henry and tied them together. There wasn’t a lot of rope, but she made do.
To Henry she said, “If you behave, I’ll send someone back for you.”
And she ran out of the cabin and down the path, where the undergrowth slowed her progress.
Suddenly she heard noises up ahead. She climbed a tree, poised to spring into action, when Brombard and his men emerged under her perch.
Mollie called: “Psst! Guys! Up here.”
Brombard’s grin lit up his face. “Commander Sanders! You’re safe!”
Mollie climbed down from the tree and Brombard saluted her, which she realized was his way of showing his pleasure. She saluted back.
“We’re pretty sure the captain wanted us to return to the boat without looking for you,” he said. “We’re sort of off the books right now.”
Mollie high-fived him. “I appreciate it.” Then she took off in the direction the men had come from.
A few minutes later when they could walk two abreast, Brombard offered his canteen to Mollie and motioned the other men to hang back.
“Commander, there’s something else I need to tell you,” he said. “The captain had a bag of diamonds in his parka pocket when we rescued him off the ice.”
So that was the payoff for the circuit board. “How did you see them?”
“When I hung up the jacket the bag fell out. I … I took a moment to see what the bag was before I returned it to the parka.”
Mollie nodded. “The bag is probably still there, right?”
“Yes,” Brombard said. “But I don’t understand.”
“We’ll talk about this later,” Mollie said.
Minutes later they were back at the abandoned sub base and helping Perez and Martin to walk to the Zodiac inflatables.
Back alongside Neptune they climbed aboard and deflated the inflatables. Mollie spotted the XO on the bridge and climbed up to speak to him as the rescue party men took Perez and Martin and the inflatables below.
The XO stepped forward as if to hug her, then stopped. “What the hell’s going on?”
“Degama is … you’d better put a guard on his door,” she said. “And maybe send a message to the Chinese that there are two Russians tied up – remember those two from the ice station? – and two men dead in a hut somewhere on this island.”
The XO answered by picking up a mike and said: “Dive the boat!”
CHAPTER XVII – EVASION
Spratly Islands
October 4
0930 hours
Inside the control room Mollie stood next to Johnson, seated at her console. She had stopped herself from asking him to give up his seat again.
Johnson said, “The board shows something at the mouth of the bay. The sound makes no sense.”
Mollie picked up a headset and plugged in. “Let me try it.”
She reached over Johnson’s head towards the control panel, then stopped. She straightened and said, “Try the F9 filter.”
Johnson hit a key, listened.
“Now the F5,” she said.
Johnson turned off the first key, hit another, listened. “Holy shit! It’s two of them! Sounds like an Akula and a diesel sub, a Kilo, on the surface.”
Mollie nodded at him. “Yeah, and Vietnam’s got a bunch of Kilos bought from the Russians.”
“What, the Vietnamese and the Russian boat that chased us? Are they working together?” Wozniak asked.
He looked at her. She looked at the XO. He nodded.
“They’re probably both looking for us,” she said. “Up ‘scope.”
When the periscope screen came alive, it revealed the surface with nothing in view.
“Scanning radio frequencies, ma’am,” Johnson said.
An LED readout showed the equipment scanning for active frequencies, pausing for a few seconds whenever it found one, then scanning on. Johnson shook his head.
“Nothing active on any military frequency within 50 miles of here.”
Mollie nodded. “The two boats must be talking face-to-face, trying to figure out how to find us. Let’s do our disappearing act.”
“Good idea,” the XO said. “Hover mode!”
Mollie continued to stand at Johnson’s shoulder. “They’re separating. Both heading inshore,” he said.
“Why would they be using active sonar?” the XO asked.
Mollie turned to him. “XO, we need to talk.”
He nodded. “Wozniak, you have the conn.”
The XO led the way out of the CIC. In the passageway Mollie said, “The Russians are mad at us because I beat up their guys.” She paused. “I did kill two of them.”
He stared at her. “What else?”
“I wouldn’t fix the gadget that …”
The XO held up one hand. “Don’t say it!”
“… somebody sold to them.”
He nodded. “All right, let’s show the Russians they’re screwing with the wrong people.”
Yes! Mollie followed him back into the control room. As soon as they entered, the XO asked, “Where’s some deep water?”
The quartermaster said, “The continental shelf is only about 30 miles from here.”
“Take us there at one-third,” the XO said.
Mollie followed the XO to the quartermaster’s table where the XO studied the chart.
“I want them to follow us, but not too close. DSO, can you figure something out?” he asked her.
She nodded. “We’ll time our movement to theirs. We can leave a noisemaker set to go off after we pass.”
“Make it so,” he said.
A few minutes later the sonarman reported, “Both contacts diving, sir.”
“Plot them,” the XO said.
Mollie watched the two subs appear on the main tactical display. The XO pointed to the spot where Neptune’s course passed between the two subs.
“I want to pass by that spot just when they’re communicating with each other,” he said. “We’ll leave the noisemaker five minutes later, then head for deeper water.”
Mollie added, “We can cross into the Russian’s sector and start radiating a Los Angeles-class image.”
“And the Kilo and the Akula get confused and shoot each other instead of us?” the XO said. “Can we do that?”
Just as she was about to say “I can,” she switched to “We can do that, XO.”
The XO nodded. “If they don’t shoot, then we’ve done nothing but give them some maneuver practice,” the XO said. “If they do shoot, well, shit happens.”
The XO looked around for objections. There were none.
“Let’s do it,” the XO said. “Down ‘scope. Course 150, ahead slow, make your depth 500 meters.”
Minutes later the XO turned to her. “Launch the noisemaker. Come to course 265, make your depth 250 meters, ahead one-half. Johnson, put on that disguise.”
Mollie watched Johnson’s fingers fly over the keyboard. The display screen showed two oscilloscope patterns. Johnson adjusted the controls until they matched perfectly. The lad was all right!
“Not in the same direction,” she told him. “Parallel course, opposite direction. Make them think you are running your own search pattern and found them.”
“Aye, aye, sir. Parallel course,” he said. “On a bearing of 100, sir.”
Johnson watched the screen. “Radiating Los Angeles-class signature, sir.”
“Are they picking this up?” the XO asked.
“Not sure yet, sir. Give them a couple of minutes.”
The time passed as the men fiddled with their equipment. Finally Mollie saw that Johnson had received a signal via his headphones.
“They’ve acquired the noisemaker, sir,” he said.
The XO smiled. “Let’s disappear. Helm, stay in hover mode, steady on the planes. Sonar, what’s the Russian sub’s bearing?”
“070, sir,” the sonarman said.
“Rotate us to 250, give him our smallest cross-section,” the XO said. “Diving officer, negative buoyancy. Drop us straight down to 3000 feet, very slowly. Johnson, keep that ghost going. Head it out to an intercept course with the Kilo.”
“He’s locked onto the ghost,” Johnson said. “He’s turning. He’s following the ghost!”
They all cheered. Mollie was probably the most pleased -- her guy had done this.
Minutes later Johnson said, “Noisemaker at 250 meters, sir.” The CIC was silent.
“Noisemaker at 225 meters, sir. Executing programmed maneuver.”
“Very well,” the XO said.
“Beginning turn to 1-1-0. Accelerating to 5 knots. The projection is right on top of the noisemaker. They should pick it up any minute now.”
Mollie stared at Johnson’s screen.
“Nothing yet,” he said.
The display showed the track of the Russian and Vietnamese subs -- the projection of the Vietnamese sub’s track creeping in the direction of the Russian.
Suddenly the Vietnamese sub swung away from its track toward the Russian sub.
“He’s moving, he’s moving!” Johnson said. “He’s leaving his search pattern. He’s going after the Russian.”
“What’s the range?” the XO asked.
“About 30 kilometers between the two of them, sir.”
“Damn, that’s too far for a shot. Can you turn up the gain? Maybe he’ll think he’s closer, his instruments were wrong. We’ve got to get him to fire before they surface again.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
Mollie watched the display, which showed the Vietnamese sub moving toward the projection.
“Torpedo launch, sir. Two, two torpedoes in the water!” the sonarman said.
“Track ‘em, track ‘em. Where are they headed?”
“Bearing 1-1-0, sir, speed 50 knots.”
“Right on course for the projection!” the quartermaster said.
“Give me time to closing!” the XO said.
“Johnson, hit Sonar Display!” Mollie said. “There, good!”
The display now showed two little blips on course toward the projection.
“About 5 minutes to contact, sir!” the quartermaster said.
Mollie pointed to the screen, where the torpedoes showed. She said to Johnson: “Click on them. Keep zooming in.”
As Johnson clicked on his mouse, the picture enlarged.
“Good, good! At 50 knots, every inch is … about a minute.”
Johnson flipped up a glass cover on his panel to reveal a covered switch labeled “Noisemaker Self-Destruct.” He lifted the red cover and poised his hand on the switch.
Mollie looked down. “Shit, I would have forgotten that!”
“It’s a team effort, sir, uh, ma’am.”
Mollie gulped, slapped him on the back.
“Torpedoes are on continuous pinging now!” Johnson said. “Wait, wait! The Russian has fired. Two more fish in the water!”
Everyone watched the display screen. When the torpedoes were less than an inch from the projection, Mollie said to Johnson: “Now!”
Johnson flipped the destruct switch and clicked his mouse. The projection disappeared from the screen.
“Explosion in the water, sir!” the sonarman said.
“What are those damn torpedoes going to do?” the XO said.
“Torpedoes continuing on course, sir. Still on active pinging.”
“Keep going, you little bastards, keeping going!” the quartermaster said.
“The fish are beyond the explosion about 1 kilometer, sir,” the sonarman said. “Still continuing on course, still pinging.”
“They should pick up the Russian in about 2 minutes, XO,” the quartermaster said.
Mollie was as tense as everyone else in the room.
“Fish have slowed down,” Johnson said. “They’ve switched to ping and search, sir.”
“Damn!” the XO said. “What’s their range to the Russian?”
“About 12 kilometers, sir,” Johnson said.
“Shit,” Mollie said. “They should have him by now.”
“They’re still searching,” Johnson said.
“What about the Russian torps?” the XO asked.
“They’re not pinging at all, sir. They’re still on wire guidance.”
Mollie watched the displays projecting the remote control battle.
“The Vietnamese fish are still pinging,” Johnson said. “Wait, wait, the Russians made a knuckle. They’ll drop a noisemaker into it. Now!”
Moments later he said, “They’ve found it! They’re gone to continuous pinging. They’re going to hit!”
Johnson snatched off the headphones as the torpedoes hit, then slid the headphones back on.
“The Russian is diving. He’s turning tail. Bearing 290. He’s buggin’ out. Wait. One torp is still pinging. Somebody check the tape to see if there was one explosion or two.”
“Have you got the Russian fish?” the XO said. “They should be on pinging now. The Russians had to drop the wires when they turned.”
“About 7 clicks from the Kilo,” Johnson said.
Johnson’s screen showed the Russian sub changing course.
“The Russian is trying to run!” Johnson said. “The torpedo is close. Only about 2 clicks!”
The screen showed the torpedo closing on the Russian despite its attempts to evade. Mollie watched the torpedo getting closer and closer, finally merging with the picture of the submarine.
“Explosion in the water!” Johnson said. “One torpedo hit! Wait, wait! Blowing noises, they’re trying to surface. They’re on the way up!”
Mollie knew that the crew couldn’t help hoping that, in spite of the Russian sub being the enemy, the sub made it to the surface.
“Secondary explosion!” Johnson said. “He’s going down. Shit, he’s going down fast. He’s not going to make it.”
Johnson paused, then continued, “Implosion noises, sir. Metal breaking up. He’s gone.”
Mollie stood with the others in silence for a moment in tribute to the death of their fellow submariners.
Mollie then nodded at the XO. It was time they dealt with the captain.
In the passageway Mollie explained to the XO what she’d been told about the captain by the two Russians and about the diamonds that Brombard had unintentionally found.
“Now do you believe me?” she said.
The XO hesitated. “Whether I believe you or not, there may be enough to keep him under guard. Could you first find the diamonds?”
Mollie nodded and followed the XO into the captain’s quarters.
As the XO quickly reviewed what had just happened with the Vietnamese and Russians subs, Mollie eyed the parka still hanging on a hook.
When the XO finished his recital, Mollie spoke to the captain. “Sir, would you allow me to practice a magic trick?”
Without waiting for a reply Mollie reached her hand toward the captain’s parka. Degama lunged out of his desk chair and grabbed her hand.
She twisted her hand away with a grip-releasing maneuver.
“How dare you!” Degama said.
Mollie turned to the XO. “Do I have your permission, sir?”
The XO nodded.
“I’ll have you both court-martialed!” Degama said.
“I don’t think so, sir,” the XO said.
Mollie again reached for the parka. She checked the pockets and, from one pocket, she pulled out a bag.
“Now you see it!” she said. “Just like all good magicians – hidden in plain sight.”
“You have no right!” Degama said as he tried to reach for it.
The XO stood between her and the captain. She opened the bag and spilled diamonds into her hands.
“Brombard found them when he took off your parka after you were injured. He just told me about them now.”
Mollie paused. “He didn’t tell anyone before because he was loyal to you, Captain. But when you dec
ided to leave me on the island he changed his mind.”
“Loyal. You don’t know what loyalty is,” the captain said.
She looked at him and, suddenly, his expression changed from anger to something else. His features seemed to soften.
Then he said in a soft voice, “The diamonds were for you, Mollie, to win you back.”
What the hell?
He turned face up a framed photograph on his desk.
Mollie gasped. It was a picture of her mother from many years ago!
“He stole you from me. Jocko Dougherty stole you from me. You should have been my daughter, not his. Your mother was my girl first, and he stole her.”
Mollie shook her head. “No one stole my mother. She had a mind of her own. If she …”
Degama held out his hands to her. “I just wanted to win you back, Mollie. I thought you’d like the diamonds. I’ll be a good father, not like him. I’ll take care of you …”
Mollie turned away from him and exited the cabin, where Chief Harris waited. He entered the cabin and Mollie knew he would be placing the captain under guard.
She hoped the workout compartment was empty – she needed some privacy to think about what just happened. How could all this have to do with her?
Moments later she was pounding the punching bag when Chief Walker appeared at the hatchway.
“Yes, Chief?” she said.
“Commander Sanders, would you join the chiefs in the mess?”
“Give me zero-five, okay, Chief?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Mollie, quickly showered and dressed in her khakis, then entered the crew’s mess where five of the boat’s chief petty officers waited. More than one hundred years of naval experience, the backbone of the navy, looked at her. Now what?
“Attention on deck!” Walker called.
The chiefs sprang to attention.
“Permission to speak freely, ma’am,” he said.
Mollie nodded. “At ease, gentlemen.”
“Ma’am, I had – we all had – the privilege of serving with your father. He’s a fine officer, one of the finest who ever served in the Navy.”
Oh shit! Just what she didn’t want to hear.
“He started out a bit arrogant, somewhat like yourself. No offense intended. He learned to take care of his men, just as you have.”
Lt. Commander Mollie Sanders Page 18