“Alpha Tango calling Ageless Warrior. Come in Ageless Warrior. Over.”
“Ageless Warrior. Go ahead, Alpha Tango. Over.”
Grant looked forward and scanned the horizon. “Confirm you have visual. Over.”
“Standby.”
As Grant waited, he heard a muted, continuous rumbling sound, only this time it wasn’t another boat. “Your stomach talking to you?” he grinned.
Adler patted his stomach. “Consider this a warning. Stay out of my way once we’re aboard!”
“Hate to disappoint you, but we’ve got calls to make.”
“You’re shittin’ me, right? I can’t remember what real food tastes like, Skipper!”
Grant laughed and slapped his friend’s shoulder, just as he heard: “Ageless Warrior here. Confirming we have visual. Admiral’s barge has been launched. Do you copy? Over.”
“Copy that. And thank the admiral. Over.”
“You can thank him when he gets there! Out.”
Chapter 21
USS Coral Sea
Flight ops had been temporarily suspended, but it didn’t prevent activity from taking place on deck. Rows of men continued walking with their heads down. They were trying to spot the smallest piece of debris that could be sucked up into an aircraft’s intake during takeoff.
Seas started getting rougher, with bad weather approaching. Waves were already at seven feet. It was hardly noticeable aboard the massive carrier, but the Admiral’s barge rose and fell on the rolling waves. Stepping off the deck of the barge then onto the stainless steel landing meant timing had to be nearly perfect.
Captain Gregson and Admiral Larrimore stood on the flight deck at the top of the ladder. Standing behind them was Chief Dave Carson, Master at Arms, along with two petty officers. They were waiting to escort three prisoners to the brig.
“Were there any problems, Admiral?” Gregson asked, as the two men looked down the ladder.
“None at all. Everybody was ready to go.”
“How are the two SEALs?”
“The medical officer needs to check them over, Nat. So far all they’ve requested was food and drink,” Larrimore responded as he looked down the steep ladder. “There they are.”
It was an emotional moment as the SEALs stepped on deck, saluted, and requested, “Permission to come aboard, sir.”
“Permission granted,” Gregson said, returning their salutes. He immediately extended a hand, then shook each of theirs. “Welcome back!”
“Thanks, Captain,” Becket replied.
Kidd smiled. “Thank you, sir.”
“Look, just follow Lieutenant Carey over there. He’ll see you’re both well taken care of.”
“Sir, is my Team still on board?” Becket asked.
Gregson shook his head. “Sorry, but Command at Coronado requested we fly them out.”
“Understand, sir.”
“You can make your call to Coronado whenever you feel up to it.”
“Thank you, sir.” Becket and Kidd slowly followed the lieutenant toward the island.
Larrimore kept his eyes on the two young men, as he said quietly to Gregson, “Those two boys deserve medals for what they did, Nat.”
“I’ll see the paperwork is started, Admiral.”
Hearing footsteps on the ladder, both men turned. Grant stepped onto the deck, shifting his rucksack to his left hand. “Sirs.”
Larrimore made the introductions. “Captain Gregson, this is Grant Stevens. Captain Grant Stevens, retired.”
The two shook hands, as Gregson said, “Great job, Captain.”
“Thanks, sir. It wasn’t without some problems, but everyone came back safe.”
“Glad to hear that,” Gregson responded.
“Sir, I’d appreciate it if you could take the three prisoners off our hands and put ’em in lockup.”
“More than happy to,” Gregson smiled. He turned to the Master at Arms. “Chief, you and your men get the prisoners.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Chief Carson answered, motioning to the two petty officers. The three climbed down to the landing, then waited until the barge rose up on a wave, then stepped aboard. Within a couple of minutes, they brought the prisoners to the flight deck in cuffs, then led them away.
Following them up the ladder was Kwan then Team Alpha Tango, carrying their gear and weapons. Handshakes and introductions went around, after which Gregson asked, “What happened to the fishing boat you were, uh, traveling in?”
Grant looked at his watch. “After some assistance from EOD, she should be on her way down to meet ‘Davey Jones,’ sir.”
“I see,” Gregson replied, trying to stifle a laugh. “And I assume the hand-off of the canisters to the Chinese went without a hitch?”
“Yes, sir. We were glad to get rid of them, probably as much as the ChiComs wanted them back!”
“I can appreciate that! Listen, I know you’d all probably like to freshen up.”
“We sure would!” Grant responded, running a hand over beard stubble.
“You all probably know your way around a carrier like the back of your hands, but go ahead and follow Ensign Adams.” Gregson pointed to the young ensign. “Once you’re through, Admiral Larrimore and I would like you to join us in the Wardroom for a meal.”
Grant slung the strap of his rucksack over his shoulder. “We’d like that, sirs.”
As the Team walked away, Grant came back to Gregson. “Captain, is it possible to have someone assigned to watch Kwan? I’d hate to have him get lost.” That was Grant’s way of saying he didn’t want Kwan wandering around, no matter he was CIA.
“Sure. Sure. I’ll see to it. Oh, by the way, a Greyhound is scheduled to arrive at zero eight hundred. That’ll be your ride to Atsugi.”
“All right, sir. Thanks,” Grant nodded. “What about Lieutenant Becket and Petty Officer Kidd? Are they supposed to ride with us?”
Gregson shook his head. “We’re sending them to Coronado on a Prowler (an AE-6B, four-seater). They’re scheduled to leave at first light.”
“Glad to hear that. They need to get back to the Teams. Appreciate your help through all this, sir.” Then, he turned and caught up to his men.
Gregson and Larrimore followed at a distance, with Larrimore saying, “There goes one group of tired men, Nat. They’ve just about been beaten down to parade rest.”
*
Drinking a cold glass of milk, and finishing his second Snickers bar, Grant sat quietly, waiting for a secure call from Scott Mullins. A shower, shave, and some chow was all it took to make him feel human again. Sleep would top it off.
“Skipper! It’s me,” Adler called from the passageway.
“Come on in, Joe.”
Adler walked in. Dangling between two fingers was a bottle of root beer, with two hamburgers in his palm, wrapped in napkins. One burger was already half eaten.
Grant was always amazed with the amount of food Adler could pack away. “Wardroom food wasn’t enough?”
“Hey! This is just an after dinner snack,” Adler answered, as he closed the door. He pulled a chair away from the wall, then sat down.
“Are you happy now?” Grant asked as he crumbled the candy wrapper then gave it a basketball-type toss into a trash can.
Licking ketchup and mustard from the corners of his mouth, and after taking a swig of root beer, Adler breathed a heavy sigh. “The perfect ending to an almost perfect mission!” He unwrapped the second burger.
Grant just finished swallowing a mouthful of milk, when the signal alerted him. He lifted the headset hanging around his neck, then adjusted both earphones. “Scott?!”
“Jesus, Grant! Where the hell’ve you been?”
“I hope you’re joking!” Grant responded with a slight laugh.
“Oh, shit! You know what I mean. Is everybody okay?”
“We’re good. Tired as hell, but okay. And before you ask, everyone’s safely on board.”
“Thank God. Look, Grant, I know you’ve got a lot to tel
l me, but. . .”
“I know. Right now you just want a ‘speeded up’ version, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Wait! We had radio transmissions with the Coral Sea. Hasn’t any of it filtered down to you yet?”
“No.”
“Not good, Scott. But the past few hours happened so fast, that might explain why.”
“Maybe.”
Grant told Mullins everything about the rescue right up to the part about finding the plutonium and the five men from Taiwan. “Scott, I’ve got classified info that Langley needs to be made aware of, and post haste.”
“I take it you’re not sure whether to tell me or whether you want to speak directly to Langley.”
“No. No. You know I trust you, but you have to be certain you talk to the right person, and I’m not sure who that is.”
Mullins scooted to the edge of his swivel chair, propping his elbows on the desk. “Tell me, then we’ll both make that determination.”
“The first issue is that Kwan is with us.”
“Uh-oh.”
“We couldn’t leave him behind, Scott. It would have been a death sentence in my opinion. And, yes, before you say anything, I take full responsibility for getting him involved.”
“I won’t say a word,” Mullins smiled to himself. “Just continue.”
“One of the Taiwanese men is Chi-ming Lai. I’m guessing here, but my impression is he might be a scientist, or at least someone who had knowledge of plutonium. I doubt he had any experience in covert or terrorists ops. I thought he was going to shit his pants from the minute we busted into that house.
“The other one is An-Jie Lin. Now that guy’s a whole different ballgame. I’m pretty certain that’s just his cover name, though. He’s either a CIA operative or someone who worked at the Embassy in Taipei, maybe in the Comm room. That would have given him access to transmissions passing between Langley and Kwan. I tried to bluff him with how much I knew, but couldn’t get anything out of him. What I do know is that he and his compatriots are pissed.”
“You mean about the U.S. siding with Beijing?”
“Affirmative.” Grant continued with Lin’s plan to use the explosives and release plutonium into the air over Shanghai.
“Jesus, Grant! And you think they were going to leave the SEALs within range of that?”
“Not a doubt in my military mind. And possibly set the bombs as close to the Consulate as they could get. We observed two of them snooping around the building, then one climbed up to the roof. I’m convinced he was looking for a place where the bomb or bombs would have had the most impact.”
“Are you saying there weren’t any guards around the Consulate?!” Mullins scribbled a quick note.
“Confirmed there was at least one person inside, but didn’t have time to verify if there were more,” Grant answered, shaking his head slowly. “Kwan said the interior hadn’t been finished. Whether that means there wasn’t any ‘equipment’ installed, I can’t say. Maybe that’s why there was a lack of more security.”
“I’ll pass this up to the director and let him take it from there. Anything else?”
Grant filled Mullins in on the gunboats and the outcome of the plutonium. When he finished he said, “Think that’s all I’ve got for you. Except Captain Gregson said a Greyhound’s coming for us from Japan at zero eight hundred.”
“That plane’s been on standby since you left Virginia.”
“But how did. . .?”
“I can only assume that after the President heard from Captain Gregson that you were safe, he had somebody in the chain of command make the final arrangements. As an FYI, Grant. The Vice President’s trip has been put on hold.”
“Guess it was in everyone’s best interest.” He looked across at Adler, who was rocking back and forth on the metal chair, with his fingers intertwined behind his head. From his facial expression, it was obvious he was curious. Or maybe he was still hungry.
“Guess we’ll be responsible for bringing everybody home, right?” Grant asked.
“Think you can handle it? That’s a long way to travel.”
“Piece of cake!”
“Right!” Mullins laughed. “I’ll talk with you when you get to Atsugi. In the meantime, I’ll see if I can fill in any of the blanks.”
Chapter 22
Atsugi NAF
The C-2 Greyhound’s wheels touched down at Atsugi, completing the thousand mile trip on schedule, without incident. Directed to a hangar, the aircraft rolled along the runway, turning starboard as it approached the hangar, parking within twenty yards of the Gulfstream.
Standing at the bottom of the fold-down steps of his aircraft, Matt Garrett finished a last mouthful of coffee. He crushed the paper cup, tossed it into the plane, then starting walking to the C-2.
As the Greyhound’s engines began to wind down, a large aft cargo ramp began lowering. Inside, the passengers already had their seat belts unfastened, except for the three handcuffed prisoners. With the extra available seats, the three men had been separated, each one sitting across the aisle from one Team member.
Novak, James, and Diaz unfastened the prisoners’ seat belts. “Don’t move,” Novak growled, pointing to each man as he walked by them.
Grant and Adler slung their rucksacks over their shoulders and walked down the ramp, seeing Garrett walking toward them. “Hey, Matt!” Grant said with a quick two finger salute.
Garrett extended a hand to Grant, then Adler. “Welcome back!”
Novak was standing at the top of the ramp, and called Grant. “Boss, we’ll take care of these guys. You want them put aboard the Gulfstream right now?”
Grant looked at Garrett. “You ready to takeoff?”
“Ready when you are.”
“Mike, go ahead and get them settled. Secure the handcuffs to their seats. Take Dao with you.”
“Aye, aye, Boss.”
With their rucksacks on their shoulders, Novak, James, and Diaz led the three men down the ramp then over to the jet.
Kwan nodded to Garrett, then continued walking to the Gulfstream.
As Stalley came down the ramp, he asked quietly, “What about the Norinco? You still want me to keep it?”
Grant had a moment of hesitancy, then responded, “Yeah, Doc.”
“Let me take your gear, Boss,” Slade said as he stepped next to Grant.
“Thanks, Ken.”
Grant called after them, “You all may want to grab something to eat before we takeoff. Matt, are there drinks on board?”
“Yeah. Stocked up yesterday.”
“Good. Thanks.”
“Looks like you’ve got a helluva lot to fill me in on!” Garrett commented, watching the men walk away.
“A helluva lot,” Adler answered.
“You seem to be short a couple of men, though.”
“The SEALs got a ride back to Coronado on a Prowler,” Grant answered. As they headed for the plane, he asked, “Matt, have you received any calls from Operations?”
“No, nothing.”
Grant ducked his head as he went into the cabin. “Maybe I’d better go see if Scott’s called. If not, I’ll call him. Joe, you wanna come along?”
“Unless you need me, Skipper, think I’ll visit the handy mini-mart. It had some tasty-looking selections!”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Grant laughed, as he reached overhead and lowered a door on a small compartment, then removed his wallet. “I shouldn’t be long.” He took off, jogging towards the Operations building.
*
Waiting for his call to D.C. to go through, Grant tried to process the whole mission. There were still unanswered questions about the three men, like whether the Agency had any clue about one of their own being a ‘turncoat’ as Grant suspected. Joe was right, he thought. The SOBs always turn up on our watch.
“Grant?”
“Hey, Scott.”
“I take it you’re at Atsugi?”
“Landed about forty-five minutes
ago. Got the three men secured in our aircraft. The SEALs were flown to Coronado early this a.m.”
“Good. Good news.”
“So, what have you got for me? Something? Anything?”
“Looks like you were right about Lin. He did work in the Taipei Embassy. The Agency didn’t want to release much more information than that to us.”
“Yeah,” Grant responded. “Too embarrassing.”
“Agree,” Mullins said. “I don’t know what his actual job function was over there, but they’ve gotta be scrambling their asses off at Langley right about now.”
“Thought our days of filling out ‘dance cards’ was over,” Grant commented, “but guess this will still mean paperwork for us, right?” (A ‘dance card’ is an After Action Report.)
“Don’t know about paper, but I’m sure you’ll be meeting with somebody from upper management not long after you get back. Let me ask you something. Did Kwan put up much of a fight having to leave China?”
“He wasn’t happy but I think he finally realized it was best.” Every time the name ‘Kwan’ was mentioned, Grant got that familiar gut feeling, the kind he couldn’t quite put a finger on. But for him, anyone being part of the Agency always made him leery. It wouldn’t be too much longer when Kwan wouldn’t be his concern. . .just the CIA’s.
“If that’s it, Scott, I’ll head out.”
“Yeah, that’s all I’ve got. I take it you’re flying back the same route?”
“Assume so. Haven’t had much time to talk to Matt.”
“Okay. Talk with you when you’re home. Safe trip, my friend.”
“Thanks.”
Grant hung up the receiver, then leaned back in the chair, stretching his arms overhead, and exhaling a long breath. He stood up, adjusted his holster on his hip, then headed for the door.
The piercing sound of a Phantom preparing for takeoff made him pause on the top step outside Operations. He looked around the airfield. At the far end of the field, just beyond the last building, a helicopter’s rotors were winding up. A small tractor was towing an A-6 Intruder into a hangar, probably for maintenance. Normal everyday operations for an airbase were underway.
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