"I know," Number One. "I could feel it. Never mind we will lose them along the shore line soon enough. What I wonder is why they are just following us and not demanding we stand down for inspection. Well, let's just stay on course."
Behind them the USS Oregon, an attack submarine from Bangor, Washington, kept its distance. Commander Alex Relm, a seasoned submariner, frowned at the slow rate of speed the Romeo was doing. Alex thought the skipper must be conserving battery life. At this rate the sub would take about a week to cross the Atlantic Ocean to New York City.
Alex said to his executive officer Jim Crow, "Jim, let's turn south and go to flank speed for about eight hours. Then come back to our present course and wait for our target to arrive. I think he's on to us. I've a feeling."
"Aye sir. I'll make it so."
Back on the Romeo sub the sonar man said, "Our shadow is gone. I guess he felt we're not a threat so he left us."
The captain breathed a little easier. He was being well paid for this mission, but he sure didn't much appreciate the group he was leading. The Taliban were being hunted everywhere and if the Americans got wind of this mission, their sub was history. The captain knew very well they were no match for an American nuclear attack submarine.
The other two Romeo subs were just entering the Indian Ocean. They would sail down to Australia and then east to North America. It would be a long haul. Of course fuel would be a problem as the distance was quite far. The Taliban had purchased a small tanker ship for a refueling along the way.
++++
Brad and team, Mike, Wendy, Agent Jones and Sandy were flying to New York City. At forty thousand feet, they were studying a paper map of New York City. Sometimes in this hi tech era, a low tech hard copy works just as well if not better.
Brad said, "We're looking for the most bang for the buck, kind of thing. So let's divide the area into pieces and stroll around like tourists. Mike you take Staten Island area; Wendy and Agent Jones I give you the oil terminals; Sandy and I'll take free lance area which would include Manhattan and the major cruise terminals. However, before we start you're going to need a wad of cash and you already have your government credit cards. Let's see what's in our safe."
There was under or next to the last seat, a small safe bolted to the floor. All members of the Batt team knew the combination number including the pilots. However, another safe was tucked in a secure location that only Brad, Steve and Mike knew the combination. The reason for secrecy was in case of torture facts would not be revealed.
Brad dug out a two inch high stack of one hundred dollar bills. He tossed it to Mike to divide up. Sandy thought it was a play thing and took a leap just after Mike snatched it out of the air. All of them laughed which broke the seriousness of the situation.
For all of the team members it seemed rather straight forward that a submarine had limited targets. Unfortunately oil terminals and refineries were sitting ducks on the water with residential areas not far away. With the proper timing, that is, a tanker being unloaded was struck with a torpedo, a disaster would occur. The short term would result in panic up and down the coast. The long term effect would be the relocation of terminals inland. Pipelines would be required; environmentalists would have a hay day. Oil prices would surge. The economic and political fallout would be difficult to overcome. The end result would be an economic hemorrhage.
On the other hand, if a fully passenger cruise ship was struck with multiple torpedoes in her fully loaded fuel storage tanks, three thousand people were at risk. It would take a really sick mind to sink a passenger ship but history has a documented record of just such a thing: The Lusitania; the Athenia and others.
War was an excuse to take lives and to make a fanatical person feel happy. How it can make a suicide bomber blow himself up, along with others, happy is unconceivable to a sane mind.
Now the Batt team was faced with stopping another catastrophe like 9/11. It still nagged at him why they didn't just blow the subs out of the water and turn to other matters of importance. The fact was he and his team was to save the day again. This was getting a little monotonous. He laughed remembering when Steve said, "That's why we pay you the big bucks."
The plane touched down at JFK and went to reserve parking for corporate jets. After that they went to a four star Manhattan hotel for the night. The next day they would all separate being on their own.
Brad called his wife. She told him all was well and asked him if she wanted her to fly out and do the tourist thing? He told her not this time, but when the 'little guy' got older, a trip to New York would be nice.
Next he called Billy for an update on possible targets. Billy said, "Boss, there're too many to talk about. I sent you a list and you can view it on your laptop. Meanwhile, me and Wade are tracking those subs. He told me that your father, along with some others, said the Romeo subs are really short range and not long range boats. They'll have to be refueled along the way. Therefore, a tanker must be somewhere between here or there; if you get my drift."
"I got your drift Billy. Thanks for the list. It'll be bedtime reading. Keep working that nicotine brain of yours."
"I've got one in each hand as I speak to you boss. Catch you later."
Brad always smiled when he talked to Billy. Even in a crisis he had a sense of humor.
The next morning all of them met for breakfast. Mike was the first to arrive and then Brad was followed by Wendy and Agent Jones. Sandy was strutting her stuff. For some reason she seemed to sense the excitement of the Big Apple.
Mike said, "Well, I'm going the full tourist route. My plan is to hit the coffee places where old men hang out. I'll ask them about 9/11 and then after I hear the long story, I'll ask if they were a terrorist what would they target. I'm counting on getting a few targets that way."
Agent Jones said, "Mike you are always a step ahead of everyone. I was just looking at the entrance to the harbors, bays or points where a sub could stand by and let go a torpedo. Does that make sense to anyone here?"
"I think so Jones," said Brad. "Just use your common sense. We're on the ground and Billy's on a map looking down. We put the two together and bingo we have a target; we hope."
Wendy chipped in and said, "We have no idea what their target is. No one thought a hijacked plane would ram the World Trade Center. But yes, they are limited to an attack by submarine. That should help us a lot. One thing I keep thinking about is if we only thought at first there were two subs, then it went to three and what if there was another one?"
Brad said, "If I recall correctly, North Korea had four Romeo class subs. If she sold them all, then we could be faced with four subs. Could it be possible two for each coast? That would mean we need to rethink this mission."
"Wendy, call Nancy and have her alert all of our team members including my father and Wade to the possibility of a fourth sub. Let's not take any chances."
Later that morning Brad, with Sandy, walked around the area where passenger ships docked in Manhattan area pier 12. The Queen Mary 2, better known as, QM2, sailed from New York about every three weeks or so; Brad saw on a sailing schedule. He sat down on a waiting bench. Gulls were flying around making a lot of noise similar to his beach house on the Pacific. Brad crossed his arms and began some serious thought.
If there are four subs; two for each coast, then he would need to split his team up. Then he did the what ifs. What if they were to drop off around fifty fighters at his beach and then leave the guys to fend for themselves. That would result in two subs targeting the LA area. What to do, he wondered.
His mind went into warp drive and he decided to send Nancy, Billy and Park to the LA area. They could work out of the SEAL's headquarters in Coronado, California. When Wade became available he would have him join the team in San Diego.
That would leave the protection of the Round House to the Master and the SEALs. Sandy nudged his leg. She was on a leash as he didn't want any police problems. She was telling him that all would be fine. He gave her head a rub an
d gave Nancy a call first. She answered promptly, listened and said she was on her way.
Nancy called her significant one and told her she was going out of town for awhile. Not long after she resettled in DC she got lonely and called her old roommate. At first Nancy was very apprehensive that her old roommate would be still angry with her for breaking up with her. However, Gloria was ecstatic. They set a date and the rest is history. Nancy was very happy and so was Gloria.
Now Nancy picked up her traveling bag that was always packed and ready to go. She made a call to the airport and told the standby crew of a certain agency to file a plan for San Diego.
Brads next call was to Billy at the Round House. He said, "Billy, recruit all your computer friends to zero in on what they might think as terrorist targets from LA down to San Diego. Tell them I'm paying big money for any and all hot tips."
Billy laughed and said, "Boss these guys, including girls, do this shit for fun, but I'll see if they are in dire straits or not. Anyway, me and Park are on our way. I'm traveling light, meaning I'm need to use the government computers please."
"I'll clear the way for you Billy," said Brad.
Brad closed his phone and starred at the empty wharf. It was still a little chilly for a late March day. Then he remembered it was close to his birthday. He smiled thinking what a nice present his wife would give him around December.
Next he called his father. He and Wade were just leaving the sub base and would fly directly to San Diego to set up shop. The only fear Brad had was that his father would try to run the team. Well, he had faith in his team so not to worry.
Both Romeo subs destined for the west coast of North America plowed on underwater at a rate of 10 knots per hour. The sister ship trailed him by five kilometers. The lead on held the GPS unit. This would be a long, long voyage passing through untold enemy territorial waters. It was planned that when passing between Australia and New Zealand they would follow a tanker or container ship to hide from enemy sonar. Once again, the ships commander and officers were highly paid and expected to take no chances. It had been more than 10 years since four airliners were hijacked and attacked American citizens. Patience was a virtue for the Taliban. There was one thing for certain there were no shortage of followers ready to sacrifice self for the cause of jihad.
Half way across the world, the two Atlantic subs were at the point of no return: halfway. The USS Oregon waited for sonar sounding identifying the lead sub. Captain Relm said to his XO, "Jim let me know when we make contact. I'll be in my quarters."
"Aye Captain," said the XO.
It was early afternoon on Staten Island. Mike had searched long and hard for either a tavern or small restaurant to have a conversation with some locals. The first thing he'd done was read the Times to pick up on the sports scene and any local points of interest that might be discussed between friends.
Mike liked the look of this tavern called, 'The Bell Bottom Up.' If nothing else, he thought, he liked the name. Surprisingly the inside was well lit and the bar stools were half filled up by regulars. A few tables were available, but none were occupied.
Walking in all eyes turned to see who was darkening the doorway. Mike had on his best smile as he walked with purpose to the bar. The bartender was what one would expect of a tavern: medium height, but gone to seed many years ago. To Mike he looked like a bypass operation waiting to happen.
Mike took a space at the short end of L bar so he could see all of the patrons. He ordered a draft; laid a hundred on the bar and downed the glass in one shot. That definitely caught the eye of all the customers. He sat the glass down a little hard and motioned for a refill.
Two hours later, he and three other die hard drinkers were chatting up a storm. Mike had told them a tall yarn and that he'd wanted to see where the World Trade Center used to be. He wanted to pay his respects to the innocent victims. His friends toasted to their sacrifice and it was then that Mike brought up the subject of how about now days. What would be a good target?
Mike didn't realize how serious that question was as his companions went quiet with circumspection. One guy, Wayne was his name, a grey haired retired dockworker said, "Now my new friend, that's a hard question to answer. I've always thought the oil terminals and refineries were targets waiting for terrorists. The problem is the skies have been shut down, but a single engine plane could do some real damage. I suppose a worker could blow himself up like we read in the papers or see on the TV."
Mike said, "I'm from Oregon guys. We don't have any targets to speak of. However, here the millions of people live right on the ocean. What if a submarine suddenly appeared loaded with torpedoes?" Mike waited with his glass in hand waving to Mike the barkeep to bring another round.
A younger man than Wayne, said, "Now that's an interesting thought Mike. But I would assume we have subs of our own protecting our coast line."
Mike said, "I have no idea, but hope so. If a sub sneaked in and torpedoed a tanker off loading would make one hell of a fireball." Mike shuddered and played the role to a T. The other three guys were also lost in thought as Mike brought a fresh round of beer.
Wayne said, "There's a big refinery over by Perth Amboy. I live not far from there. Man that's scary. Hey let's talk about something not so morbid."
Wendy and Agent Jones rode around the coastal area by bus. After a couple hours Wendy said, "This is doing us no good Jones. Let's take a break at a good deli. I'm starving."
"I've an idea," said Jones. "Let's catch us a cab and make sure he is a local born and bred New Yorker; especially a talkative one."
"Wow, damn fine idea Agent Jones," said Wendy.
They found a taxi after lunch that fit the bill. He was from the Bronx. He'd been driving taxi all his life. After he found out what they were looking for, he took them on a tour of the places where a possible terrorist could do some real damage.
Max was his name. He said, "Let's first take a look-see at the Holland Tunnel. It's said over 30 million vehicles a year pass back and forth. Not a bad place to blow up and have it flood the tunnel during rush hour."
"But Max, that would take a big explosion as the tunnel is well under the river," said Jones.
"I know, but for instance, a car breaks down near one of the inspection doors. In no time two men could carry down a lot of explosives to surely shake a little dust off the tunnel," said Max. "How about if it happens at the same time with the Lincoln Tunnel?"
"Wow! That would be a lot of traffic snarled for a long time," said Wendy.
Max said, "The Brooklyn Battery Tunnel has a venting system that if breached would shake up the travelers. It's located at the mouth of the river."
Both Wendy and Jones sucked in a deep breath on that information. They continued riding around looking at different sights pointed out by Max, but without a doubt, there were many targets for the bad guys to hit.
Chapter Nine
In balmy San Diego, Nancy felt nice and warm. She loved this part of Southern California. This was where she wanted to retire. She'd left a text message telling Gloria she'd be out of town for awhile. Gloria was a woman without any self confidence and needed a strong person to guide her through life. Well, she'd just have to endure her absence because this was her job.
It wasn't that Nancy was ambitious to climb any political ladders, but it sure felt nice being in charge of an office of a covert agency with direct connections to the President. Be that as it may, Nancy decided to rent a car and when she had some free time, drive around looking at the area. Little did she know that driving around would be a large part of her job checking on possible terrorists sites.
Billy was the first one she met as she parked her rental car in the visitors parking area. Security was tight and well founded she thought. Billy was puffing away and waved at her as her long legs strode across the lot. She said, "Billy, I thought this state was a non - smoking area?"
"I won't tell if you don't tell. It's getting real difficult to enjoy a little tobacco anymore. Not to
mention the price of each pack is breaking me. And you know what; the sticks are getting smaller with less tobacco in them. If I wasn't so addicted, I'd quit." Nancy laughed and asked about where to go inside and other things that were going on.
Billy said, "They have guards everywhere. Just show them your sexy ID card and he'll lead you to our situation room. I'll just have one more and then join you."
Nancy found the other team members busy, neck bent over a large map of the west coast from San Francisco down to the Mexican border. Presently the team was huddled over the Bay Area looking for possible terrorists sites.
The others looked briefly to say hello and then bent back down to the map. Nancy, ever-present about logistics, saw the long span of the famous Golden Gate Bridge. She wondered how many people a day crossed back and forth over that bridge. Then she saw the Bay Bridge and recalled the horror of an earthquake during a baseball game or a football game being broadcast nationally. The Bay Bridge connected Oakland with San Francisco. Also another bridge, the San Rafael Bridge on Interstate 580 connected the Oakland area with highway 101 that was the main artery to the Golden Gate Bridge.
If even one of those main arteries were closed a nightmare of traffic would be forced on the remaining highway. Also, as she looked at the map, the BART system ran from the Embarcadero area across the bay following the Bay Bridge. Any attack on any of the three bridges or the rapid transit system would be devastating for the economic region.
What Nancy didn't know was how much damage a torpedo could do to a bridge support. She asked, Wade that very question. He scratched his head and passed the question on to somebody that might know. As it turned out, the buck was passed around until that 'somebody' could be found.
What it would do, however, was make people start thinking that if a six tube torpedo attacked the Golden Gate support what damage would occur. General Pratt was listening with both ears open to the conversation. He whispered to his aid the Colonel and off he went. General Pratt had sent him to San Francisco with a team of SEAL's to inspect the footings of all the bridges in the Bay Area.
Under Water Secret Page 7