“I know,” said the chaplain, “that’s why I’m here.”
“Tomorrow, with your permission, I’d like to have a memorial service at 0800 for our fallen SEALs as well as for the misguided kids who died in the blast. And I would like you to speak at the service.”
“Of course. I’ll be there.”
“Anything else, my friend?” Ashley said as the chaplain got up to leave.
“Yes, one thing. How’s little Splashy doing?”
“She’s in the brig until further notice.”
Father Rick smiled and made the sign of the cross, giving her his blessing.
Chapter 65
Ashley called Jack Thurber’s line. “Could you come to my office please, Lieutenant.” said Ashley, trying to affect a command voice.
Jack sat down across the table from Ashley. Their eyes locked for a few moments before either of them spoke, something that was happening more frequently.
“How was your day, Captain?” asked Jack without any sense of irony or humor. He knew she had been through hell.
“Well, Jack,” said Ashley,” I just spent a few minutes with Father Rick. I’m feeling much better now. And thank you for asking.”
“Jack, I don’t have to review for you the last few hours. We have a defector who committed treason as well as murder, and I had to destroy half the ship’s small weapons as a result. Our drone tells us that Bradley wasn’t at the site of the blast but three miles away having a meal with Confederate General Beauregard. What we know is that a high ranking officer from this ship has gone over to the enemy, and is presumably spilling secrets all over Beauregard’s headquarters. But we also must assume, and I’m not alone in this, that there may be other conspirators on the ship. I’ve ordered high security for all of our weapons batteries as well as critical spaces on the ship, but we’re at risk. I’ve been combing my brain, imagining one of those actors from CSI, NCIS or Criminal Minds, and what they would do or think. Hell, they do it every week in less than an hour.”
Jack laughed.
“Then the thought occurred to me that we have one of the best investigative journalists in the country right on this ship, actually sitting across the desk from me. You know how to get into a person’s head and to think like a detective, as you’ve done in so many of your books and articles. You can pick up nuances in speech and behavior.”
“Well, thank you for those kind words, Captain. I do admit that I have a sixth sense for picking up subconscious signals from people.” Good, thought Ashley, then let’s run away and get married. Cut this out, NOW.
“Tell me about Bradley, Jack. Psych this guy out for me.”
Jack looked uncomfortable. “I’ve been thinking about this man constantly for weeks. But before I get into my thinking about him, Captain, I want to give you an apology.”
“Apology? For what?”
“I saw trouble with this guy weeks ago, but I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t think it was my place as a recent seaman to be giving you my opinions of a senior officer. I should have blown a whistle, loudly.”
“Jack, you’re a fellow officer and a confidant. I also think of you as a friend.” Not to mention, I think I’m in love with you, she thought. STOP!
“Tell me about Bradley, including everything you noticed or heard about him.”
“I always look for a person’s incentives, something journalists share with micro-economists. What drives people in certain directions has as much to do with objective incentives as it has to do with subconscious thoughts. Although I haven’t seen his personnel file, I’ve spoken to a lot of people who know him. Bradley is a man at the end of his career. He’s had a drinking problem and has been passed over for promotion twice. If his career wasn’t dying under its own weight, his confrontation with you in the wardroom probably nailed it. And the most significant part of that scenario is that he must have realized it as well. He’s 10 years older than you and below you in rank. You have the job he thinks he deserved. He knows that you’re on the track for admiral while he’ll muster out on the pension of a three striper. I believe that he not only resents you, he hates you. Here is a guy, divorced with no immediate family, at the end of his chosen career. Here is a guy who believed that the twenty-first century wasn’t treating him right. He’s a man with no future. Except for the Confederacy that is. Looking at incentives, what could be more appealing to him: washing out of the US Navy or becoming a big shot in the Confederate Navy? Now let’s pile on some more incentives, the incentives of the Confederate Navy. The Gray Ships have become a fixation in the South, judging from all of the newspaper reports.”
“And thanks to your excellent articles that have been plagiarized all over Dixie.”
“Well, thanks Captain, but they wouldn’t print those articles if they didn’t believe them.”
“Let me ask you Captain, what are you worried about with Bradley?”
“The two obvious worries, or at least they’re obvious to me, is that first, he blows the cover on the Gray Ships deception, and second, he convinces the South to avoid the Battle of Bull Run.”
“I have a different view,” said Jack. “Bradley is a man looking to trade things to get to his incentives. He wants to be a Confederate admiral, something that’s beyond his grasp in the United States Navy, in 1861 or 2013. He wants to be the guy who can show them how to handle the Gray Ships Fleet, not just one Gray Ship. The South is very big on honor and chivalry, although somehow owning human slaves never worked its way into that thinking. They’re probably looking at this guy as a simple turncoat, a traitor. Yes he can be useful, but he needs to have a lot to trade to convince them he’s one of them. Also, Bradley wants Bull Run to happen because it will enable him to tell the Confederacy ‘I told you those weapons were bad.’ I would place bets on Bradley lying to the South as he’s lied to you.”
“Do you think we should try to capture him, Jack?”
“The man’s a traitor and a murderer, Captain. The consequences of that are beyond my pay grade. But, yes, I would try, just in case I’m wrong and he spills all of his knowledge.”
“Let’s change subjects, Jack. What about the possibility of conspirators who may have remained on this ship?”
“As I’ve been thinking about Bradley, I kept my reporter’s antennae up. I’ve been looking at a few sailors who I think may be with Bradley. I base these observations on snippets of conversation and questions I’ve asked other people.” He handed Ashley a list of 11 people he had doubts about.
"These are disgruntled, disaffected kids," said Jack. "They all have disciplinary records. I wouldn't be surprised if Bradley led them in a bad direction."
Ashley perused the list. “Oh, my God,” she yelled. “All eight of the sailors who went ashore with Bradley are on this list. So far, Jack, you’re pitching a perfect game.” She looked at the three who were still on the ship.
One name jumped off the page. “Holy shit. Chief Albert Ray. He’s the ship’s Chief Gunnery Mate, just below Andrea Rubin, the Weapons Officer. He knows every weapons system on this ship.”
“We’ll continue our talk in a minute, Jack.”
***
“Colonel Bingham please pick up a phone,” Ashley almost screamed over the PA system.
“Yes, Captain,” said Bingham.
“Matt, I have some strong evidence that Chief Gunner’s Mate Ray may be a conspirator. He knows our weapons better than anyone on the ship.”
“I’ll track him down immediately, ma’am, and take him into custody for questioning.” Each of the Marines wore ear buds for instant communication. Bingham said to all of them, “If you see Chief Gunners Mate Albert Ray, arrest him immediately and call me.”
Bingham then went to the gun deck to visit with each of his Marines. As he walked around the wooden structure on the stern that had been erected for a costume change, he noticed a pool of blood spilling out across the deck coming from Battery 3, the Tomahawk missile battery. His training took over. He stepped behind the structur
e and cocked his Colt 45. Chief Ray jumped from behind the structure and fired a silencer equipped handgun directly at the Colonel's head. Bingham died immediately.
Petty Officer Simon Planck was walking along a weather deck two levels above when he saw Colonel Bingham fall. Planck had completed 20 classes in Pete Campo’s Martial Arts training. Now feeling physically fit, he raced down the ladder to give assistance. As he stepped around a turret he startled Chief Ray, who was looking in the other direction. He saw that Ray had a gun in one hand and a printed circuit board in the other. As Ray raised the gun, Planck delivered a swirling karate kick to his face, knocking Ray to the deck. He then grabbed Bingham’s gun from the deck and pointed it at Ray. He hoped that the safety wasn’t on because he hadn’t fired a weapon since boot camp. He trained the gun on Ray, making sure that he wasn’t moving. He kicked Ray’s gun from his hand and it went skidding across the deck. Planck had no idea what to do so he just screamed, “Marine down!” Four Marine guards came running. Planck raised the gun over his head and said, “That’s the one,” pointing to Chief Ray.” As the Marines approached him, Ray suddenly spun and took another gun from a holster. He pointed it at Planck and fired, landing the shot in Planck’s left shoulder. The Marines shot and killed Ray.
“Good work, Sailor,” Sergeant Charlie Sorese said to Planck as he collapsed to the deck. “Corpsman!” shouted Sorese into his mouthpiece. “Corpsman to main deck aft. Man down, man down.”
Ray had killed Marine Sergeant John Newfield as well as Colonel Bingham before the Marines shot him.
Sergeant Sorese called the officer of the deck on the bridge, who immediately dispatched Warrant Officer Ciano. The OOD then called Captain Patterson to report the event. Ashley called Sergeant Sorese to her office, telling Jack to stay there.
“What’s going on?” asked Jack.
“Your perfect game is still running hot, Jack. Chief Ray just killed two marines and wounded a sailor. Ray is dead. That leaves two from your list.”
Ashley announced over the PA. “Master at Arms, pick up a phone.” She told Ciano the names of the two remaining suspects, and told him to turn the ship upside down and shake it if he had to.
Both sailors from Jack’s list were located within minutes and were taken to the brig for interrogation.
“Congratulations, Jack, you pitched a perfect game.”
“Perfect?” said Jack. “Two good guys dead, one wounded.”
Ashley turned to Sorese. “Who's the sailor who was shot?”
“Petty Officer Simon Planck, ma’am. That kid deserves the Navy Cross. If it wasn’t for him, Ray would have gone on killing.”
Ashley swallowed hard. “What’s his condition Sergeant, do you know?”
“Just a shoulder wound, Captain. It hit some bone and tissue but I’m sure he’ll be okay.”
Chapter 66
The memorial service was held on the forward deck to accommodate a large crowd. Everyone on the ship, except for those on watch, attended the service. People stood on top of gun turrets, torpedo batteries and lined up along the entire rail. It wasn’t an Episcopal mass but a short inter-denominational ceremony. After Father Rick read the formal parts of the service, he asked Captain Patterson to approach the microphone.
“Yesterday was a day that no one expected nor could have expected,” Ashley said. “It was a day that saw treason, violence, murder, and amazing courage. It was a day that broke our hearts and made us proud. Chaplain Sampson has asked us to pray for our fallen brothers as well as for the misguided souls who turned their backs on us and our country. Like you, I bowed my head in prayer. Let us also pray for our wounded shipmate, Petty Officer Simon Planck, whose heroism and quick thinking saved countless lives.” Ashley said, nodding in Planck’s direction. Planck was sitting in a wheelchair off to the starboard side. The crew gave him a thunderous round of applause and cheers, a sound that Planck never expected to hear. He raised his good arm in thanks.
“Our mission continues. May God grant us the strength to carry on...so we can soon go home.”
Another round of loud applause and cheers. Not the normal sounds of a memorial service, thought Father Rick, but then what is normal for a ship from 2013 stuck in 1861?
***
After the memorial service, Ashley called Navy Secretary Wells on the radio. She had to consider radio security now because Bradley presumably had a radio and could monitor any messages to or from the California. There was a secure channel, but she was sure Bradley knew what it was.
She told Wells she would be there within the hour. When Wells asked why they couldn’t just talk on the radio, Ashley told him that she would explain when she saw him.
At 0915 Ashley stepped onto the platform at the bottom of the ladder to board the motor launch. The boatswain’s pipe sounded, followed by “California, departing.” Lt. Frank Conroy accompanied her.
As they motored up the Potomac, Ashley said to Conroy, “The last time I was in Washington, we all discussed theoretical military possibilities. Here we are after one day of hellish combat. Our war has begun.”
“Yes, it has, Captain,” said Conroy, "and I’ve already lost 25 percent of my men.”
“If I may, Captain, what about Bradley?”
“Do you mean to ask if we’re going to try to capture him?”
“Yes, ma’am, that’s exactly what I mean.”
“The answer is yes, and we’ll discuss the details later today. But for now Lieutenant, I want you to plant one thing in your brain. The mission to find Bradley will not be ‘payback.’ The mission will be to find and capture a traitor and murderer, and to bring him to justice.”
***
They arrived at the Navy Department at 1030 hours. Ashley told Wells about the events of July 2, and asked Conroy to give his observations. Wells was surprised but not shocked. In the strange situation of the California, it was inevitable that there may be some defections, he thought. Ashley also told him about the security precautions she had taken.
“The only change in plans, Mr. Secretary, will be our ability to train Union troops and supply small arms support. Over 50 percent of our small arms have been destroyed, including the rocket propelled grenades. My objective now is to make sure that we can provide support from our major weapons systems.”
Wells asked about the impact of Bradley telling General Beauregard about the plans.
“That is a major concern, sir. But Lt. Thurber has convinced me that Bradley may withhold his knowledge of Operation Gray Ships, as well as his knowledge of the history of Bull Run, simply to enhance his credibility with the South. My thinking is that maybe he wants the South to believe that the Gray Ships really are a fleet.”
“And there is another fact that we know for certain, one that gives us an insight into Bradley’s plans.”
“Please go on, Captain," said Wells, "facts are always superior to speculation.”
“The Chief Petty Officer that was killed, Bradley’s accomplice, was found with an object in his hand that we call a printed circuit board. It controls the firing procedures of all of our missiles and big guns. There is one circuit board with each weapon platform. The obvious objective was to disable the California’s ability to fire weapons.”
“Thank God the man was intercepted,” said Wells.
“Yes, but Bradley doesn’t know that. He thinks that the Battle of Bull Run will start without the California’s firepower. He wants Bull Run to happen, so he can be the hero who saved the day.”
Chapter 67
On July 3 at 1300 hours, Ashley met with Lt. Conroy in her office, along with Jack Thurber and her new executive officer, Ivan Campbell.
“I’ve invited Lt. Thurber here because of his long career in investigative journalism. He’s the closest we have to a detective on board.” And, frankly, I just like to be near him.
“We’re about to start a manhunt almost as serious as the search for Osama Bin Laden. In a way it’s more serious, because Bradley can still do us a lot of harm.
Lt. Thurber is of the opinion that Bradley may not divulge the Gray Ships secret or even the upcoming Battle of Bull Run. But we can’t assume the best. We have to be prepared that Bradley will try to undermine the Union efforts.”
“The big question, of course, is where to find him. The South is a gigantic area, and Bradley could be anywhere. Any thoughts?”
“He’s between here and Richmond, Captain, and closer to Richmond than here,” said Conroy.
Ashley, Campbell and Thurber stared at Conroy.
“How can you possibly know that, Frank?” Asked Ashley.
Conroy explained that the new two-way radios have powerful homing devices in them, and very few people know this. The device is a simple homing beacon, nothing as sophisticated as a GPS receiver in a cell phone, but it is a beacon. Conroy told them that he stood on deck and tried it. He received a very faint signal from a location in a direct line between them and Richmond. “The closer you get to the radio, the stronger will be the sound. It will make the difference between finding a needle in a hay stack and finding a needle on a pool table. By the way, no signal came from the weapons camp that we destroyed, so the only radio that’s in the wrong hands is Bradley’s.”
Ashley looked at a map. She pointed out that Richmond is about 90 miles by land from their current location. “It’s quite a hike,” she said.
“The plan, Captain, will look like this. We steal some rebel uniforms and horses and head to Richmond.”
“Where will you get the uniforms, and who will teach your guys to ride horses?”
Conroy explained that clothing supply depots are usually located at an army’s command headquarters, such as Beauregard’s near the destroyed weapons camp. “All of my guys ride horses, Captain. We were trained on them for Afghanistan.”
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