“With the loss of some of our equipment, it looks like we can start leaning in that direction. Do we have time for a general inspection of her power plant? Over.”
“Unless the Red Baron up there starts shooting, I would say you have about three hours, over.”
Collins was about to respond when a voice broke into their secure channel. The uninvited intruder was even clearer than the straight line-of-sight signal from Shiloh.
“To the illegal boarding party currently aboard the Simbirsk, this is Colonel Leonid Salkukoff. You are committing an act of international piracy, and the Russian government asks you to stand down and return to us Russian state property.”
Collins heard the voice of the Russian and responded, “I am sure I don’t have to stand here and explain to you the finer points of international law governing the open seas of the world. This ship is a derelict and unmanned. It is also a hazard to free navigation. By right of salvage, NATO has claimed this vessel.”
“Who am I speaking to please? Over,” came the accented voice. Jack knew that whoever it was, it was coming from the circling helicopter over their heads due to the heavy sound of rotors heard in the background.
A quick look at Carl and a smirk. He clicked the transmit button. “This is Dynamo, over.”
“Ah, we can play this game all day, Colonel Collins. We will play until the whistle sounds, and still, the inevitable outcome will not have changed one iota. Over.”
Most of the men on the deck of Simbirsk heard Jack’s real name being uttered by the Russian. They all stopped and listened as the situation had suddenly just changed direction.
“Okay, Colonel, you know who I am. Your dramatic and revealing moment has passed, and here we are with the same dilemma we had just a second ago.”
“Colonel, we can have this discussion all day, but at the moment, our missile cruiser Peter the Great has been tracking a submerged target in her area. May I suggest you tell your submarine to back down until we can come to some form of understanding? Over.”
Collins acknowledged the dreaded news by the look on his companions’ faces. Everett, the navy man, along with Ryan, saddled up closer to hear the exchange. They knew an attack on a submarine would be devastating. It was in the calmer waters underneath the waves while Peter the Great was on the surface with a clear sonar signal to pick up on, where, because of the high seas, Houston would have trouble getting a fire solution. The Russian had the advantage. Jack grimaced when he saw the choices in front of him.
“A temporary stay only, Colonel, nothing more. Let us communicate without the specter of a massacre threatening your sailors. Over.”
“Captain Johnson.”
“Shiloh, here.”
“Captain, on my authority, order Houston to stand down. Further orders later. Over.”
Just two clicks sounded on the radio informing Collins that the captain understood.
“Now you see, Colonel, cooperation between nations can be a simple achievement. We have—”
“You fired on a United States ship of war, Colonel. That is what—”
“We fired upon common pirates. Can we skip your game of American dodgeball, Colonel? I suggest a cease-fire until we can have a discussion in person. My forces will stand down in a joint effort at the cooperation I mentioned a moment ago. Over.”
Jack looked around him. The ancient Russian ship. The towline leading to another vessel full of young men. And then he looked across at the Dutch ship, whose sailors even now lined her outer railing watching with anticipation. Then his eyes rose to the swirling cage of the hurricane they found themselves in. The black wall swirled around them like a tube of evil darkness. His eyes fell to Carl, who only nodded at Jack that they had no other choice at the moment.
“Agreed.”
“How many men do you currently have aboard, Colonel? Over.”
“We have thirty-six officers and men aboard. All fully armed, Colonel.”
“Coincidentally, we have almost the same number. And we are armed also. So, we have an agreement; all forces will stand down until we can have a civilized discussion on our differences of opinion. Over.”
Jack lowered his eyes and his radio as he quickly thought. He looked up and caught Ryan’s attention.
“Mr. Ryan, take a few of these marines and stash some weapons in a few of the companionways. I don’t care much for liars, and that is just what we have here.”
“Colonel, my patience wears thin. I do not care for flying all that much. I understand you have the same affliction. Over.”
“Okay, this is getting downright creepy, Jack. How in the hell does he know that? No one in our own department has a clue but us,” Carl said as he knelt beside Collins.
“We’re not going to find out by not letting the bastard board.” Jack angrily clicked his radio to life and stood as the helicopter swung low once more over the deck. “Permission granted to land aboard Shiloh for transfer to Simbirsk. Over.”
“Oh, I think we can manage something a little more time friendly, Colonel.”
Collins heard the scream of the Russian-made navy helicopter as it came low toward them. It rose and then settled beyond the high radio mast of the cruiser, toward the stern. It vanished.
“Damn it!” Jack cursed as he was tossed an M4 automatic weapon. “Mr. Ryan, get Jenks and Charlie into the wheelhouse after you get some weapons in other locations and wait. Carl, get a squad of marines, and let’s greet our guest.”
It took Jack, Carl, and sixteen of the Royal Marines three minutes to cover the seven hundred feet of deck to the stern of the old cruiser. When they arrived, the last man rappelling from the helicopter was seen as his booted feet struck the deck just aft of the number-three gun turret. The man allowed the rubberized rope to fly free as he quickly unzipped his body armor to allow cooler air to enter. He looked around the stern of the Simbirsk, and then he spied the two Americans and their greeting party of sixteen Royal Marines. He smiled and gave the men a jaunty salute.
Jack stood waiting with his exposed weapon at his side. He felt someone next to him and saw that it was Henri Farbeaux. Jack’s eyes saw the dirt and grease on his BDU and knew that the Frenchman had already been inside the cruiser.
“Exploring, Henri?” he asked out of the side of his mouth.
Farbeaux’s eyes never left the man who was smiling and walking toward them with thirty-two men dressed just as they were. The Frenchman’s eyes narrowed.
“I thought I would do the job I was kidnapped to do, Colonel. Then maybe my part in this foolishness can come to an end sooner rather than later.”
“Well, is that him?”
Henri watched the Russian’s approach. His mouth went into a straight line.
“Yes, it is him.” He faced Jack. “Do not trust this man, Colonel. His mission here is to destroy your assets and kill every one of you.”
“Why don’t you tell us what it is you really think, Froggy?”
Henri looked at Everett, who smirked. “This may be one situation you won’t find so amusing, Captain. I do not see an acceptable outcome here.”
Carl saw the seriousness in Farbeaux’s face and decided to stop chiding him. He didn’t particularly care for that look on the former French Army colonel’s face.
A man who stood the same height as Jack came up and stopped. He eyed the two men beside him and then the Royal Marines to his right and left. He looked behind him at his own black-clad warriors.
“At ease. Inform your men to sling weapons, Captain.”
Jack watched as the men with their black helmets and Russian-made Nomex BDUs on did as ordered. He also noticed that these soldiers were far more heavily armed than his own contingent.
“There. Now, we can all be friends,” Salkukoff said as he faced Jack. He stood rigid for the briefest of moments and then gave Collins a very fast and ill-mannered salute. Collins just as quickly returned it. “I hope I did that right.” He smiled over at the larger Everett and Farbeaux. “It’s been quite so
me time since I played soldier.”
“Colonel, your mission here is illegal. I request that you and your men fly back to your cruiser and let the courts decide what happens next.”
The smile remained as Salkukoff tilted his head as if he were attempting to understand a language he did not know.
“So you can rape this vessel for her technology? Colonel, you of all people know better than that.”
“Rape the technology of a ship over seventy years old? Colonel, in poker, you never show an opponent just how weak your hand really is.”
Salkukoff turned his head, and instead of answering Jack, he faced Henri Farbeaux.
“Colonel Collins has a very diverse sense of humor. He accuses the Russian government of wrongdoing but at the same time has in his employ one of the greater antiquity thieves in modern history.” He stuck his hand out to Henri. “Colonel Farbeaux, I find you in the strangest locales.”
The Frenchman looked at the outstretched hand, and then his eyes moved to the colder, darker eyes of the Russian.
“I am a thief, yes. All here can attest to that fact.” He didn’t notice nor did he care that Salkukoff dropped the offered handshake. “But you are a murderous pig of the first order. I was witness to your bravery on the battlefield.”
A knowing look crossed the Russian’s features. “Ah, the Ukraine. They were thieves, Colonel, just like yourself. They paid the price. You, sir, have yet to meet our justice.”
“And that time is not here and not now,” Collins said as he stepped in front of Henri. “This man is under my protection.”
Salkukoff smiled even wider. “As you are mine, Colonel Collins. While aboard the Simbirsk, you will be offered our hospitality. At the end of this, we will see if you wish to pursue matters in another direction.”
He stepped past Collins and then eyed the vessel around him. He shook his head and then ran a hand along the bottom of the number three-gun turret.
“They don’t construct them like this anymore”—he turned to face Jack—“do they, Colonel?” He saw that the American was going to remain silent. “Today’s surface ships of aluminum and composites, they would never have withstood phase shift dynamics.”
Collins and Everett exchanged quick, nervous looks.
“I believe you may have an engineer aboard?”
Jack stood silent as he eyed the man before him. The Russian brushed the rust off his hands and looked at the group of NATO representatives. “No, you did not bring along your brilliant Master Chief Jenks, the man responsible for getting your response to the alien incursion into the air. I must say a thrilling sight to see something as large as that battleship rise into the blue skies of Antarctica. It gave me goose bumps.”
Collins was having a hard time not only hiding his anger but also his shock that even the master chief was known to this man.
“Uri, it looks like you will not get to have the intellectual exchange you had hoped.”
A smaller man emerged from the group of Russian commandos. He was wearing glasses and had a distinct look of discomfort about him. He removed the helmet from his head and then held it at his side.
“A shame. I am a great admirer of the master chief. I have read all his work on hydrodynamics and naval engineering. Marvelous mind.”
“May I present—” Salkukoff started to say.
“Dr. Uri Gervais, chief engineer of the Orion project.”
Jack turned and saw the master chief with Ryan and Charlie standing next to him. Jenks lit his cigar and then eyed the smaller man before him.
“He’s the man behind Russia’s effort to get to the moon.”
Jack looked from Jenks to the small scientist before him. The man looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but here. Collins could also see that the older scientist was terrified of Salkukoff.
“Professor, it was my understanding from our intelligence briefings that you wouldn’t be caught dead in the company of assholes like this.”
All eyes went from the cigar-puffing Jenks to the Russian professor and then to the colonel, who merely laughed at the insult from the career navy man. Dr. Gervais, for his part, said nothing. The man looked downright uncomfortable.
“And our briefings on you are as accurate as yours are on the good doctor. Now, shall we see about our mystery ship and where she could have been hiding since World War II?” He stepped past Jack and the others and made for the hatchway that led into the darkened interior of the ship. Collins and Everett both noticed the satchel charges being carried by every one of the Russian commandos. It was clear what their intent was if they could not recover the Simbirsk.
The Americans and British followed the Russian strike team into the phantom of the Atlantic.
8
NORTH ATLANTIC OCEAN
HURRICANE TILDY—THE EYE
The smell of oil, grease, and sweat permeated the air inside the blackness of the Simbirsk. The lingering aroma of baked goods and meat, beets, and other smells greeted them. The Americans allowed Salkukoff and his men, with the exception of the twelve who followed them, to lead the way. The Russian colonel held up a diagram as they slowly eased their way down a deserted and dark companionway.
“Ah, here we are,” he said as he indicated a hatchway that led downward. “Engineering spaces right this way.”
“Do you guys feel it?” Charlie asked as he caught up to Jack and the others.
“What, Charlie?” Jack asked, wanting everyone’s impressions about the situation.
“Ghosts. I don’t know, but this ship is all wrong. I felt it while in the water, and I feel it now.”
“Just your nerves, Doc,” Ryan said with not much conviction. Even the clattering of their footsteps on the metal stairs made a hollow, echoing sound that felt like a harbinger of something waiting for them below.
“As soon as we get the generators working, we can—”
Before the colonel could finish his statement, the lights inside the stairwell flared to brilliant brightness. Every man stopped and looked around. They all heard the far-off mechanical sounds and the generators running. Bilge pumps cranked to life, and the flow of bilgewater started spewing from the side of the Simbirsk. Jack managed to look behind him at Jenks, who just shrugged in ignorance as to how the lights could have come on without anyone turning them on.
“Perhaps your claim on international salvage rights has just been denied, Colonel Collins. It seems she may have not been abandoned after all,” Salkukoff said as he continued downward. Both the Russian and Collins himself were aware that maybe they should have brought along the bulk of their men instead of leaving them to glare at each other above deck.
As they traveled down the eight decks to the engineering spaces, they all felt the power around them. Every once in a while, the hair on their arms and necks would gently rise as if an electrical current were swirling around them.
In the back of the line of men, Jenks turned to the smaller Russian professor. He tossed the cigar away and fixed the gray-haired man with a fierce look.
“From my understanding, Doc, you were thought to hang out with better people than this current staff you have. What in the hell happened to you?”
Gervais looked sheepish at first, but when he saw that the Russian colonel and his men—with the exception of the Russian rear guard behind him and Jenks—were far enough away, he leaned toward Jenks and spoke in low tones.
“Things are changing in my world, Mr. Jenks. Some would say not entirely for the better.”
Jenks let the Mister pass without comment since he knew the good professor didn’t know navy protocols. He did, however, pop a fresh cigar into his mouth as his eyes went from Gervais to the Russian commandos who were following. He lit the cigar and said nothing as the professor pushed by him as if the conversation might have already gone too far.
“Things are a little squirrely around here,” he said as the trailing Russian commandos gestured for him to continue forward.
The line of men stopped at a double s
et of heavy steel doors. None of the professional navy men had ever seen hatchways such as these on a warship. It was as if they were made to keep something out—or in. Salkukoff spun the heavy locking wheel until it stopped. They all noticed that it had turned as if it had been greased just yesterday.
“Jenks,” Jack said quickly as he held his hand out and stayed the doors from opening. The Russian turned with raised brows.
The master chief, with Ellenshaw in tow, stepped forward, and Charlie dipped into a large duffel and produced a small device. Jenks held out a Geiger counter. He listened, as did the others, with great interest. Without a word, Jenks held his hand out behind him, and Charlie placed a small ball-like device into his hand as he accepted the radiation counter back from Jenks.
“You wanna step back, comrade?” he said as he eyed Salkukoff at the supposed insult by the master chief.
Jenks eased the right side of the double steel doors open and tossed in the small ball. They all heard it clatter to the steel deck as Jenks quickly slammed the door closed. The master chief leaned against the cold steel and then silently counted as Charlie brought up a small computer and then started taking readings. The ball was the invention of the Nuclear Sciences Division and was designed to sniff out radiation and deadly chemicals such as anthrax and other dangerous substances. The sniffer began working.
“The counter shows nothing. No radiation.” He looked at his wristwatch. Then he looked at Charlie Ellenshaw. “Well, Doc?”
“The sniffer is clear. Zero.”
Jenks turned and then opened the door and then gestured for the Russian to enter.
“She’s clean. No rads and no chemical contaminant to speak of.”
“That would be impressive, Master Chief, if our science back in the ’40s was as advanced as you seem to think. Why would this ship have radiation permeating the air?”
Jack walked easily past Salkukoff and stepped inside the engineering spaces. “Then I take it you understand just where this ship has been for all these years, Colonel? Maybe the place it has been is a radiation-filled area. Have you thought of that one?”
Beyond the Sea--An Event Group Thriller Page 14