Retribution Road

by Jon Coon

  The subs would cruise in the shadow of the ship. They knew that, even with the nearly undetectable fiberglass hulls, there was still a chance surveillance planes or Coast Guard vessel sonar could find them. The US had covered the Gulf bottom with acoustic monitors, but, hidden by the sound of the mother ship’s engines and the turbulence of its screws and its lumbering size, the chances of detection were close to zero.

  Sebastian smiled as he eased his vessel to sixty feet and gave a thumbs-up to his men. “Easy money.” He laughed. “Easy money.”

  Chapter 29

  TOM WAS IN THE COMMAND center at the ranch talking with Senator Benson on a secure line.

  “So far we’ve got nothing. The satellites haven’t seen anything, and there’s only normal traffic in the southern Gulf. How about you?”

  Benson answered, “We’ve got the Boeing Poseidons from VP-16, NAS Jacksonville in the air 24/7. They can only stay about four hours, but we’ve got constant coverage. We brought over two of the Falcon 900 MPAs from San Diego and USS Gabrielle Giffords, she’s an Independence-class littoral combat ship—that means she’s a tri-hull that can run in very shallow water. But she’s also designed for anti-submarine warfare. She was in Mobile where she was built for some refit work, and we put her back at sea headed south. But still nothing. It’s like looking for a needle in a hayfield. That’s several times larger than a haystack.”

  “What’s an MPA?”

  “That’s Navy for ‘Maritime Patrol Aircraft.’ The Navy loves acronyms.”

  “Got it. How about potential targets?”

  “There are four nuke plants, including Crystal River, Florida, but it’s shut down. There are a dozen major oil refineries on the Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi coast, and two or three thousand offshore platforms, including about fifty really big ones in deep water. But unless Maria can get us more intel, we’re flying blind. Have you got any way to contact her?”

  “Not without really putting her at risk.”

  “I hate to ask, but I think you should try, Tom. She knows the dangers, and we really need her help.”

  “Okay, if you say so. I’ll give it a shot.”

  Back at the hospital later that morning, Gabe was astonished to see the improvement in Alethea. She was sitting up, eating, and chatting with her nurse. Her color had returned, and she was off her numerous monitors.

  While Cas stood nearby, Gabe sat beside Alethea on the bed and took her hand. “Well, look at you. That’s got to be the fastest recovery in history.”

  Alethea smiled and squeezed his hand. She said goodbye to her nurse and when the three of them were alone, she said, “You did this. You two. I had a visitor last night. Only a tall, dark shadow, but I’d know him anywhere. It was the Baron, and he came not to take my heart but to heal it. I don’t know what ceremony you performed or prayer you prayed, but I can tell you, nothing like this has happened in decades. It was the power of the two of you together, just as I always believed could happen.”

  Cas sat next to Gabe and took his other hand. “Things happened, Mémère, things I never would have believed. It had to have been Gabe. That’s the only explanation.”

  Gabe was dumbfounded. What he’d thought was only a weird dream was shaping up to be something else entirely. What if Alethea had been right about his “gift” all these years. What if he could have been using it for miraculous healing. Could he have saved Charlie? The questions and possibilities were mind-boggling. As they sat talking, a tall doctor with distinguished salt-and-pepper hair came in.

  “I heard you had quite a night, young lady,” he said with a winning smile.

  “I think so,” Alethea answered.

  “If it’s all right, I’d like to have a listen, and then have you do a CT. We’d just like to make sure you’re as healthy as you look.”

  Gabe and Cas moved from the bed, making room.

  He listened both front and back, and shook his head in amazement. “I still want to see that CT, but you sound like a twenty-year-old. I can’t believe it. I’m reluctant to use the word miracle, but that’s the only plausible explanation. Alethea, it’s like you’ve got a new heart.”

  “Perhaps I do,” she said. “I believe in miracles, and perhaps I do.”

  Cas hid her Cheshire cat smile in Gabe’s arm and said nothing. Gabe remembered the beating heart on the silver platter and wondered, of what had he been a part? So many questions. And, considering what was about to happen, so little time.

  The subs and their escort made good time the first day and a half. Now, with calm seas and an overcast night, they could surface, dump the toilet, fill the hull with fresh air, and take on fuel.

  Sebastian adjusted the ballast by blasting out the water from the air tanks built into the hull and brought his sub quietly to the surface. He climbed the conning tower and opened the hatch. The night air was clean, and he filled his lungs with pure pleasure.

  He gave directions to come alongside the mother ship and caught the lines the deckhands threw down. His crew came up onto the deck. They caught the fuel hose and opened the fuel stem pipe.

  Sebastian spoke with the bridge over a walkie-talkie. The weather report was good, no Coast Guard or Navy ships had been spotted, and there had been no changes in their orders. Two of his crew stripped and dove in for a quick swim. Sebastian had a healthy respect for sharks, especially at night. Especially following a ship leaving a trail of garbage. He called them back aboard. The fuel tank was topped off and the hose retrieved.

  All chores accomplished, they reentered the hull and locked down the hatch. Sebastian opened the valves to flood the ballast tanks, and they slid silently beneath the waves. They held position while Cristóbal and his crew refueled. When Sebastian heard the ship’s big engines churn and the screws start to turn, he brought the sub to its heading and brought the engine up to cruising speed.

  “Easy money,” he repeated, and settled in for another six-hour watch at the helm. “Thirty-six hours until payday. Easy money.”

  High in the night sky above them, a P-8A Poseidon flew by with an operator glued to a Raytheon AN/APY-10 radar. Designed for anti-sub surveillance, it was the best available.

  “What have you got on that cracker box hauler?” the technician asked his crewmate on the computer.

  “Looking now, give me a second. Okay, she’s the Anna Christine, Panama registry, out of Cartagena, headed to Galveston to deliver goods and make a pickup.”

  “Radar looks like she’s riding high. Let’s have another look. Ask the captain to get us under these clouds.”

  As they broke through the clouds, the second sub was just beginning to dive.

  “Bogey, bogey,” the tech called. “There’s a sub alongside her. Call it in, and let’s get somebody on her tail. Tell the captain to maintain course and speed. We don’t want to show our hand. Not yet.”

  The USS Gabrielle Giffords was just clearing Mobile Bay when she got the call. The position given was halfway across the Gulf, but she was the closest. The big tri-hull was capable of tremendous speed. Commander Edwards called for fifty knots, and the two gas turbines screamed. Still hours away, but with the opportunity to prevent a cataclysmic attack, there was excitement on the bridge.

  Senator Benson called Tom immediately. “We may have something. One of the Poseidons got a glimpse of a sub alongside a container ship from Cartagena. We’ve sent the Giffords to check it out.”

  “ETA?” Tom asked.

  “About six hours, but we’re sending a Falcon to stay with her until we can get another Poseidon back out there. We’ve also called the Coast Guard, and they’ve got a cutter underway.”

  “My team is on full alert. Call me the minute you get anything, and we’ll be in the air.”

  “Like old times, isn’t it, Tom? Makes me want to saddle up.”

  “Yep, it’s what keeps us young.”

  “Anything from Maria?”

  “I made the call, but nothing yet.”

  “Okay, I’ll be waiting.”<
br />
  Tom ended the call, then punched in Gabe’s number and waited.

  “Jones here.”

  “Gabe, you need to get back here on the double. We’ve got something.”

  “I’ll be on the first flight.”

  “Oh, how is your aunt?”

  “An amazing recovery. We didn’t think she would last the night, but today she’s doing very well.”

  “Good. Now get back here. If I’m not at the ranch, I’ll have a plane on standby to pick you up.”

  “Yes, sir. On my way.”

  Tom left the command center in a cloud of dust and came through the front door of his house at full gallop. He went to his bedroom to change into tactical gear, and was buttoning the black shirt when Carol knocked and came in.

  “What’s up?”

  The look on her face wasn’t that of a happy camper.

  “We’ve got a lead. The team may be deploying to the coast. I’m just getting ready.”

  “Aren’t you a little old to be leading your men up San Juan Hill, Teddy?”

  “Not as long as there’s fire in this furnace. Carol, this is big stuff. It’s what we’ve been afraid of, and now there may be a chance to stop it.”

  “And get killed in the process. Dad, let someone else go. You’ve done enough. Call the shots from your fancy command center. Isn’t that what you built it for?”

  “Stop, Carol. Just stop. Don’t you see this is my life? It always has been and it always will be. It’s the way I keep you and the kids safe. It’s the only way I know. Now please, just let me do my job.”

  She turned and left his room, slamming the door behind her. She went to the front porch, took out her phone, and called Gabe. “Where are you?”

  “On the way to the airport. I should be there in five hours. Why?”

  “Dad’s going to get himself killed, and I need you to talk him out of it. He won’t listen to me.”

  “I don’t know that it will do any good, but I’ll call him if that’s what you want.”

  “No, I want you to come take us home. I want us to get out of here and leave this madness behind us. I want … oh buffalo chips, I don’t know what I want. How is Alethea?”

  “She’s making a pretty amazing recovery. I’ll tell you about it when I get there.”

  “And Cas? Did you manage to stay out of her bed?”

  “Wow, where did that come from?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m just upset about Dad and his conspiracy nonsense. I think he’s lost his mind.”

  Gabe was silent. She stared at her phone and waited. The silence became too much, and she snapped. “Well, say something.”

  “I love you.”

  “That’s not fair. You’re just trying to calm me down, and I don’t want to be calm.”

  “Gathered that, but did he tell you there’s a sub headed our way with several thousand pounds of explosives? Looks like a terror attack from the cartel.”

  “What? You mean it’s real?”

  “Looks like.”

  “Holy big buffalo chips. I thought he was just nuts.”

  “Could be, but I doubt it. You might need to cut him some slack.”

  “Can’t you get here any faster? I feel like the wheels are falling off my little red wagon.”

  “Try to postpone your nervous breakdown a few more hours, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “Jerk.”

  “Yep.”

  Chapter 30

  TWO HOURS PAST SUNSET, THE USS Gabrielle Giffords approached the target. She slowed to eighteen knots, so as not to give herself away, and maintained her course to intercept.

  The captain of the Anna Christine saw the approaching ship on his radar, and being justifiably paranoid, ordered one of his men to throw a grenade over the side. The blast was the signal for the subs to deploy a com buoy. Within minutes, they had established radio communication.

  “We’ve got an incoming vessel about thirty minutes out. She came in fast and furious. Probably assumed we’d be running the radar on short scan, but the long-range Raytheon—”

  “Got it. We’ll break off until they’re gone. No use taking chances when we’re this close. Maintain course and speed. Better stash this radio. Good luck.”

  The two subs, running fifty feet deep, came to a dead stop and drifted quietly while Sebastian looked at his charts. They were less than a mile from the shallows of the East Flower Garden Bank, part of the National Marine Sanctuary Program, only 110 miles south of Galveston.

  “There,” Sebastian said, and pointed to the chart. “They will never find us there.” He started the engine, and in minutes his fathometer was reading depths as shallow as seventy feet.

  He cut the engine and opened the ballast tank valves, dropping the boat gently into the coral. They could hear the breaking of coral as the boat settled. On sonar, they could hear the Anna Christine fading into the distance. He ordered the crew to absolute silence, opened a cold drink, and kicked back in the helm seat.

  At the surface the USS Gabrielle Giffords approached the Anna Christine and hailed her to cut her engines and go dead in the water. In the days of wooden ships and iron men, the command would have been “heave to.” But, looking at this bucket of rust, the officer of the deck made the call as simple as possible. The Giffords launched two inflatables, and the boarding party made way to inspect the vessel.

  The first thing American sailors were told after boarding was “no English.” The lieutenant in charge smiled and replied in perfect Spanish, “Nice try. Take me to your captain.”

  A search began, and over the next three hours, the Navy team covered every inch of the ship, including drilling into bulkheads looking for hidden storage spaces. Finally, tired and frustrated, the Navy called it a day and returned to the Giffords empty-handed. Underway again, the Anna Christine made a show of waving off the Navy by circling and laying on her horns. The racket was enough to be heard by the subs, and after the Giffords withdrew, the little armada was underway again toward Galveston Bay.

  The lieutenant sat with the captain and discussed what they’d found. “There was a diver radio not connected to anything stashed in a walk-in freezer. It was under boxes like they didn’t want us to find it. If they are running cover for a sub, all they would need is a hydrophone and they would have coms. Coms we couldn’t hear unless we were right on top of them.”

  “Interesting, Randy. What else?”

  “The ship was too clean. Of drugs, I mean. Looking at the crew, some of them haven’t seen a sober day in years, and yet we found nothing. They were ready for us, and the fact they were that ready makes me think they’ve got something bigger to hide. Also, there was an undertone of arrogance. You could almost see the smirk on the skipper’s face when he was talking to us. He knew we weren’t going to find anything, and he was laughing at us. He knew they were getting away with something. Something big, I’d guess.”

  “Let’s assume you’re right. What would you suggest?”

  “Let’s jam their long-range radar and tag along behind. Let’s have the planes stay with him, but high enough he can’t spot them. Let’s put Galveston on alert. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

  “Yeah, me too. Good work, Randy. Give the orders. We need to nail these guys. I’ll let command know what we’re doing.”

  Tom got the report and made the decision to move his team to Galveston. Carol began a rant immediately. “Galveston? Didn’t you tell me a story about that fertilizer ship that blew up in Galveston? When was that again?”

  “Nineteen-forty-seven.”

  “And how many were killed?”

  “No one knew for sure, but at least six hundred.”

  “And if I remember right, wasn’t that a school full of kids, like every kid in the town and all the firemen?”

  “One fireman survived. He was late. What’s your point?”

  “That sub, how much explosive could it carry?”

  “Maybe six tons.”

  “And isn’
t Semtex a lot more powerful than fertilizer?”

  “Yes.”

  “How much more?”

  “Look, it’s not important. We’re going to stop them.” He continued filling his go-bag without looking up or making eye contact.

  “How much more?” She moved into his line of sight.

  “Lots I suppose; several times more powerful.”

  “And just for the sake of argument, let’s say you don’t stop them in time, and it goes off. How much of Galveston would survive?”

  “That’s why we have to stop them. We can’t let this happen. It would be horrific.”

  “Losing you would be horrific. Dad, please don’t go. But if you do, I’m coming with you.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “I can. Yes, I can. I don’t want to be here without you. Just stay home.”

  “Enough! You are not coming with me and that’s that. Get the kids. We’re going to the command center.”

  “You’re staying?”

  “Get the kids. We’ll talk about it.”

  Tom entered the command center with Carol, Paul, and Angelica. Emily was out with the horses and hadn’t answered her phone.

  The senior tech anxiously greeted them at the door. “We’ve got a plane that won’t answer on approach, sir. It’s not one of ours. What do you want me to do?”

  “Have you called it in?”

  “Yes, sir, but most everything is being deployed south. No one is going to get here before they land.”

  As he spoke, they could see a blip on the radar on approach. Then they could hear it. But instead of landing, it made a pass over the hangars and unleashed a fire storm of what appeared to be napalm. The first two hangars exploded in flame. The plane climbed above the smoke and flame, dove, and made a strafing run over the ranch house, riddling it with automatic rounds. The plane climbed, turned, and lined up on the horse barn.

  “Open the gates! Everything!” Tom yelled, and a remote control was activated. As the barn roof burst into flame, twenty horses fled into the open fields. Now the plane approached the command center beneath the old bunk house. The first strafing run destroyed the historic frame building but had no effect on the bunker. Next came napalm. The thick walls, covered by several feet of dirt, withstood that as well.