“So we sneak in, steal some uniforms, steal some horses, and be on our merry way. Piece of cake,” said Conroy. “If you’re a SEAL, that is.”
Chapter 68
The Coast Guard Cutter Gallatin was dragging a sonar array, trying to get an audible return from the presumably sunken California. At one point during the search, the Gallatin came within 25 yards of the wormhole through which the California slipped into 1861.
Coast Guard Sector Commander Eric Buehler had reconciled himself to receiving telephone calls every few minutes from the White House, the Office of Naval Operations at the Pentagon, and various Senators and Congressmen who had a California crewmember from their state or district. He gave the job of handling the press to his public relations staff.
The disappearance of the California dominated news programs and online news updates the world over. It was also the major topic in the wild world of unedited blogs, Twitter and Facebook posts, even though it was still early morning. A Google search of USS California showed more hits than any other searches combined.
Fox News veteran anchor Sheppard Smith was fast asleep. His phone rang at 3:30 a.m. After five rings, he awoke and looked at the alarm clock. His producer told him about the California and said to get to the studio as soon as possible.
Smith arrived on the set at 4:25 a.m. After a quick huddle with his producer they focused on three angles to the story. News outlets always look for an angle, otherwise news can just mean cold facts. The first angle would be possible terrorism, as it always is for a sudden event, especially one involving the military. The second angle would involve the sea rescue operation. They would need an expert on sonar. Smith’s producer looked at his database and called a guy from Florida they had used before. The third angle was a sensitive one, the possibility of human error. The producer got a retired Navy captain on the phone.
The broadcast began. “We have received a report that the nuclear missile cruiser USS California is missing. Terrorism (angle one) can’t be ruled out, of course, but the timing of this event, if someone caused it and wanted publicity from it, is very strange. The California went missing at 3:09 a.m. Eastern Time, hardly a busy part of a news cycle. We’ll be tracking the possibility of terrorism throughout the morning. Sonar arrays are being dragged near the California’s last known position by the Coast Guard Cutter Gallatin, and so far they haven’t detected a metal object beneath the surface of the water. We have on the phone Fox News contributor Peter Welch, an engineer who is an expert in sonar technology.” (angle two).
“Good morning Mr. Welch,” said Smith, “and thank you for getting up so early to talk to us. Please give us your take on what’s happening.”
“Frankly, I’m surprised,” said the sonar expert, “that there has been no audible return at all so far. I understand the sonar has been active for over a half hour and that they are near the last known location of the ship.” The guy then went into technical jargon until Smith cut him off. “Mr. Welch,” said Smith, “we have to take a break. We will be contacting you later for an update. I thank you again, sir.”
After the commercial break, Smith spoke to retired US Navy cruiser Captain Fred Notter. (angle three).
“In your experience, sir, how could something like this happen?” asked Smith.
“At this point, Sheppard, I have to say I’m baffled,” said Notter. “If a ship simply disappears off both the satellite and radar grids, it’s usually an indication that the vessel has sunk. But from what I’ve been told, the water depth in her last known location was less than 300 feet, yet sonar shows nothing. I hate to say it but the loved ones of the California’s crew will have to wait until this mystery is solved.”
“Thank you, Captain Notter,” said Smith as he turned to the camera. “It goes without saying that we’ll be tracking this story throughout the day and will bring you the latest news as soon as it breaks.”
At the headquarters of Al Jazeera in Doha, Qatar, news editor Mohammed Al-Qudz was typing an article that speculated whether American stealth technology could be at play in the California incident. “If they can hide an airplane from radar, can they also hide a ship?” Al-Qudz wrote.
The USS California had been missing for an hour and a half.
Chapter 69
Lt. Conroy called a meeting of SEAL Squad Bravo in the ship’s video theater.
The squad consists of Petty Officers Timothy Blake, Walter Cummings, Edward Jones, Stephen Jordan, Franco Lopez, John Tarback, and Joseph Tucker. The squad would be led by Conroy.
“This mission will have two parts,” said Conroy, “First, we’ve been ordered to capture Phillip Bradley, a man formerly known as Commander Bradley. He is a traitor and a murderer. He killed four of our guys. But this mission is not about ‘payback.’ Our prime objective is to capture Bradley and bring him back to justice. He’s a self-serving prick, and I don’t expect him to choose death. I have a hunch that when he’s confronted, he’ll put his hands up and surrender.”
“And what if he doesn’t surrender, Lieutenant?” asked Tim Blake.
“Then we kill the bastard,” said Conroy.
“Second, we’re going to observe and report enemy troop strength, and call in aerial surveillance and strikes if appropriate. Any strikes, whether by drone or a missile from the ship, will be approved by the captain.”
He then explained that they would land in a Zodiac near the weapons camp that was destroyed. “I figure that they won’t be expecting any visits from the California there. From the camp we’ll proceed about three miles to the Beauregard headquarters. We can expect it to be heavily defended, so we will infiltrate at night. All weapons will have silencers for us to take out guards. Once we break into the clothing bunker, we pick out a uniform for each of us. The horses are trained Army animals and shouldn’t be too spooky. Petty Officer Tarback here has a way with horses, so he’ll head up that part of the operation.”
“Today is July 3. We will move out in three days on July 6, a Saturday, at 2200 hours, after dark. We’ll arrive on Sunday morning. I’ve picked a Sunday because things always get a bit relaxed on the day of Sabbath. Remember Pearl Harbor? It will also give us two days to study maps and make detailed plans. I expect to arrive on site at 0100 hours, which will give us plenty of darkness to do our job.”
“It’s a distance of about 90 miles from where we’ll be to Richmond. We’ll take a break every 30 miles, mainly to give the horses a rest.”
“Any questions?”
He handed out a phonetic word pronunciation chart that Father Rick had prepared. Speaking with a Southern accent wasn’t difficult. It just required adhering to a few principles. Drop the “g” sound, the sheet suggested, substituting “mornin” for “morning.” Most of the squad had seen service in Afghanistan, so this looked a lot easier than trying to speak conversational Arabic.
“Okay,” said Conroy, “grab a map and start studying.”
Chapter 70
At 2200 hours on July 6 the SEALs boarded the Zodiac for the trip to the weapons camp. The weather was oppressively hot and humid, even at night, the kind of weather SEALs train for. They arrived at the old weapons camp, as it has become known, at 0115 in the morning. They deflated the Zodiac, folded it over its engine and hid it under brush for future retrieval.
They began the hike to Beauregard’s headquarters, a distance of about three miles. Each man was carrying 30 pounds of gear so they walked slowly both to conserve energy and to keep their ears open for hoof beats. They arrived at the headquarters at 0215 hours, and walked to a large shed, which they identified from drone surveillance as the probable supply depot. Cummings easily picked through the lock and they were inside. Tarback stayed outside as guard. Uniforms were stacked four feet high on a long bench. Using flashlights, they each picked out a uniform and tried it on. Because of the SEALs’ obsession with preparation, they had drilled this maneuver on the ship for hours, reaching for clothing with their eyes closed, then shining a flashlight on the size, and then quick
ly putting the uniform on.
John Tarback had a reputation from his SEAL training as a “horse whisperer.” He grew up on a ranch in Oklahoma and loved working with horses, as horses loved working with him.
Three horse corrals were located near headquarters, each guarded by two soldiers. Conroy picked the corral farthest from the building. It contained 15 horses. Petty Officers Jordan and Lopez were tasked to handle the guards. They each fired their silenced weapons at the guards, killing them instantly. Tarback entered the enclosure and gently coaxed eight horses to the opening, one horse at a time. Cummings and Tucker brought the saddles from the small barn nearby. The saddles they used in SEAL training camp were different from the ones they found, and it took a bit of figuring to strap them correctly on the horses. The darkness didn’t help.
After saddling up, Conroy led the group in the opposite direction from the road they took to the camp. According to his map, there was another road about a half mile from their position. Petty Officer Tim Blake rode the point position in front of the group. He kept his automatic rifle at the ready as did the rest of the SEALs in case they encountered a rebel patrol.
Each of the men gave his new horse a name. Donnelly named his horse Brooklyn, in honor of his slain friend Tony Giordano.
Conroy looked at his watch. It was 0245 hours. Their uniform and horse acquisition job took only a half hour. They were 90 miles from Richmond, and they would ride for 30 miles before taking a break. Conroy didn’t want to risk a horse injury, so they moved along the road at a moderate pace. He estimated they would be half way to Richmond by 0730 hours. They would rest for an hour and move out at 0900 after a breakfast of MREs and a brief nap.
“We’ll take one more break between here and Richmond,” said Conroy, “and then we’ll remain on the outskirts of the city until darkness. Then we’ll tie the horses up and proceed on foot. The signal from Bradley’s radio is getting stronger, so I know we’re on the right track.”
“Okay, move out,” said Conroy.
Chapter 71
According to the plan, a drone would fly over an area north of Richmond on the afternoon of July 7. The California would be too far away from Richmond for effective radio speech transmissions. The drone radio frequency, on the other hand, enables an effective flying range of over 125 miles. The drone would locate the SEALs by a laser transmitter.
SEAL Squad Bravo continued along the road to Richmond. It was a warm day, but not oppressive, with temperatures in the low 80s.
At 1030 hours they came upon a small cavalry unit of about 25 mounted soldiers. Conroy gave a hand signal indicating to his men to enter a wooded area. Although they were wearing Confederate uniforms, Conroy wanted to avoid contact. Apparently they had not been seen, and the cavalry unit passed by without incident. Peering through the trees, Conroy took note of the pennant the lead rider carried. It was the flag of the Army of Northern Virginia, the Army that Robert E. Lee would soon command. He would transmit that information by code to the drone when it flew overhead.
A half hour later, the squad came upon a group of women walking along the road. As they passed, each of the SEALs doffed his hat and said “Mornin, ma’am.” One of the women yelled, “When is Ole’ Bobby Lee going to march on Washington?”
“Soon enough, ma’am,” said Conroy. “Ya’ll seen our camp have ye? We’re trying to locate the General’s headquarters, and we seem to have gotten lost.”
The woman, assuming they were just a group of soldiers trying to hook up with the main Army, said, “It’s just up ahead about two miles. More soldiers than I’ve ever seen in one place. Tents for miles to see.”
After the women were out of view, Conroy ordered the squad into the woods. “Dismount,” said Conroy.
“It seems we’ve come upon a major part of the Southern forces," said Conroy.
Lee won't take command of the Army of Northern Virginia for about a year, but he's been assigned as provisional commander. Because of his reputation throughout the South, the Army of Northern Virginia was simply known as Lee's army, even though he hadn't yet formally taken command.
"Tarback, Cummings, you two stay here with the horses," said Conroy. "The rest of us will go ahead on foot to see what we can find out.”
That woman wasn’t exaggerating, thought Conroy, as he saw the camp in the distance. It was a sea of tents. He could also see what appeared to be an ammunition dump area next to a vast artillery section.
They continued through the woods to get a better view. Conroy dictated his observations into his recorder just as he did on the first reconnaissance mission almost three months ago. “I need your eyes and ears, guys. Just tell me what you see, and don’t forget to take pictures with your phones.”
They walked through the trees to get a view of a large field. An infantry company was going through a combat drill. They were arranged in platoons of sixteen soldiers and then further spaced apart into eight man squads. Conroy was amazed how the men stood, marched, and even ran shoulder to shoulder. This is the concept of the firing line, a military doctrine that lasted for centuries. By modern military analysis, the tactic was as deadly as it was dumb. The idea was to enable an officer to see a hole in the line and plug it with a fresh soldier. Their rifles were antique by twenty-first century standards, but they were not inaccurate. From what he had read, Conroy knew that those muskets now had rifling in them and could shoot a bullet with accuracy from 300 yards. From where he stood behind a tree, Conroy figured he could pick off soldiers one by one. If he had 25 other riflemen with him they could leave a pile of bodies in minutes. But even without soldiers shooting from behind trees, a few cannons firing canister shot could shred a formation of men. That’s what happened (will happen?) in Pickett’s Charge at the Battle of Gettysburg. It all looks very brave and honorable, but it’s also stupid, thought Conroy. Where’s the honor in offering your body up to be killed.
Conroy wanted to get a better view of the ammunition and artillery area. Besides the cameras on their phones, Conroy had a Nikon camera with a telephoto lens. Conroy climbed a tree and settled on a couple of crossed branches. He had a perfect view of the artillery and the ammunition wagons. He knew the wagons carried ammo because he saw a soldier retrieve bags of gun powder from behind the door.
He did a rough count of the artillery, which was neatly parked in rows and columns. He counted 25 caissons, the two wheeled carts that transported ammunition. Each caisson carried two ammunitions chests. He also counted 50 twelve pounder howitzers and 55 twelve pounder Napoleon cannons. Looking further to his left he saw a battery of 45 twenty pounder Parrott rifles, which were cannons that had rifling in their barrels. Next to the twenty pounder Parrotts were 50 ten pounder Parrotts. Although these weapons may be primitive compared to the artillery Conroy was trained in, they could pack a punch.
As Conroy surveyed the enormous encampment his eyes came upon a man on a horse who Conroy recognized from countless old photographs. There he was, on his faithful horse Traveler, Robert E. Lee himself. Just as he appears in the old photos, Lee always looked as if he knew a picture or sculpture was about to be taken of him. Maybe that’s how he got his nickname, Marble Man. Conroy focused his camera, steadied it, and snapped about a dozen pictures of Lee.
After Lee went back inside his tent, Conroy returned his gaze to the artillery and ammunition carts. Including alleyways between the rows and columns of guns, Conroy estimated the area to be about the size of a football field. The ammunition carts took up about a quarter acre. This is one mother lode of ordnance, thought Conroy.
Conroy planted a laser tracker at the edge of the trees to enable a drone or missile to track on the area.
The second part of their mission was already a success. Without expecting to, the SEALs found Robert E. Lee’s Army. Now it was time to proceed with the first part of the mission, to capture Bradley.
Chapter 72
At 9 a.m. on July 8, Phillip Bradley sat in the waiting room outside of Jefferson Davis’ office in Ric
hmond. Stephen Mallory, the Secretary of the Confederate Navy, had been with Davis for 45 minutes. Both men had been briefed by General Beauregard about this mysterious naval officer. They had also been given an extensive report of the huge explosion near Beauregard’s headquarters.
Bradley hated cooling his heels, but he didn’t have much control over the situation. At least the waiting room was comfortable. A large awning outside the window blocked the direct rays of the easterly morning sun. The temperature was in the high 70s, and the humidity moderate. He sat on a comfortable leather chair looking at his notes. The cruise missile attack on the weapons camp changed Bradley’s narrative, to say the least.
Beauregard suspected, a suspicion he shared with Davis and Mallory, that Bradley may have lured the General to the camp only to have him killed by the rocket fired from the ship. Had it not been for his insistence on lunch at his headquarters, Beauregard would have been blown to bits. Bradley could have jumped behind a rock at the last moment, Beauregard speculated.
Finally, Bradley was escorted into Jefferson Davis’ office, although not as the conquering hero that he had hoped to be.
Davis and Mallory greeted Bradley and shook his hand. Missing was the typical smile when a person meets another for the first time. Davis gestured toward a chair, and Bradley sat.
“General Beauregard told us about your interesting story in some detail,” said Davis. Bradley imagined Beauregard telling them that this nut job thinks he’s from the twenty-first century.
“Clearly, Commander,” said Davis, “the story as recounted to us by General Beauregard is a strange tale indeed. Because we only heard it second hand, please give us your summary of who you are and how you got here.”
Box Set - The Time Magnet Series Page 19