Colt's Crisis

by Tom Carroll

  “Sure. Next below the Indo-Pacific commander is a Navy four-star, the commander of the Pacific Fleet, who is responsible for all Naval forces in the Pacific. Vice Admiral Shaffer is next at 7th Fleet, where he runs just the western Pacific, and finally, Rear Admiral Carlisle, as the carrier group commander in this area.

  Carissa asked, “Why do the combatant commanders report to the defense secretary AND the president?”

  Lenny paused for a moment and explained, “If you looked at the chain of command org chart, the defense secretary and the president are in a box labeled, National Command Authority or NCA. It takes both of them together to authorize a nuclear strike.”

  Carissa set her pen down and pressed the stop button on the voice recorder. She looked at Lenny and confessed, “I had no idea of the secretary’s scope of responsibility. I thought it was basically similar to the other cabinet members.”

  “Next to the president of the United States, the U.S. secretary of defense is the most powerful person in the world. It’s why the Air Force right now is flying one of their Nightwatch 747 aircraft to Tokyo for his support.”

  Carissa paused for a few moments to look at her notes, and then asked, “Let’s talk about Garrett’s Navy background. Why did he join? Was his father in the service?”

  “I think his dad worked in a shipyard in Seattle during World War II — the man may have had tuberculous as a boy, and I think he had back problems as well,” Lenny began. “Regardless, I think that Colt was the first person in his family to join the military. He was in the Sea Scouts as a kid, and that’s when he learned to sail. The Navy was the obvious choice for him.”

  Carissa looked up from her notes. “What can you tell me about Secretary Garrett as a person? What sort of man is he?”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Lenny answered, “First of all, he’s one of the smartest people I know. He cares deeply about protecting our country and the people who defend it. He has no political ambitions whatsoever, and despite my advice to the contrary, he seems to enjoy telling elected officials exactly what he thinks. He’s loyal to a fault. He loves his family but has trouble telling them. He’s firm in his beliefs and doesn’t understand why everyone else doesn’t see the world as he does. He was more surprised than anyone that the president selected him to succeed Patrick O’Kane, and although I know he’ll do an outstanding job as secretary, I’m pretty certain he’s privately questioning his suitability for the position. And,” he added with a wink, “if you repeat any of that, I’ll deny every word.”

  Carissa looked straight into Lenny’s eyes. “You really admire him, don’t you?” she asked.

  As Lenny stood and walked Carissa to the door, he offered her his hand and said, “I’d do anything Colt Garrett asked of me. No other choice.”

  Carrier Intelligence Center, the Reagan

  An aircraft carrier’s intelligence center, or CVIC, is the domain of the ship’s senior intelligence officer, and it provides a space for several critical functions to support the carrier’s operations. The section of CVIC known as the sensitive compartmented information facility (SCIF), contains the most highly classified intelligence on the ship. Only those with an above top-secret clearance based on an exhaustive background investigation and a polygraph examination are granted access. CVIC also provides storage space for information and intelligence that has been classified as top secret, secret and confidential. Basically, it is a specialized library of highly classified hard copy and digital publications and other media. The ship’s intelligence department is divided into different divisions and work centers to manage the workload.

  When the airwing is embarked, CVIC also hosts the mission planning and briefing/debriefing of aircrews. The airwing intelligence officer is responsible for coordinating and overseeing these activities, as well as the intelligence officers attached to each squadron. This team provides briefings for every flight event of the day, covering the missions of each aircraft, communications frequencies, area operating constraints, and, most importantly, any potentially hostile forces in proximity to the battle group. After aircrew land, they first head directly to CVIC to debrief on their completed missions with waiting intelligence officers. In addition to the brief/debrief cycle, CVIC provides space for aircrew to conduct detailed mission planning for upcoming operations.

  Reagan’s intelligence officer, Commander Jennifer Abrams, had arranged to meet with Lenny and the two NCIS special agents to discuss what they might require from her team in support of the new secretary of defense.

  “Thank you, Commander Abrams, for agreeing to sit down and work with us on this,” said Lenny. Jen Abrams, seated upright at the end of the table, was focused and ready with pad and pen.

  “No problem, sir,” she replied. “How can I help?”

  Lenny cleared his throat, adjusted himself in his chair, and continued. “I think we should start with the morning intel summary. As you know, the Defense Intelligence Agency reports to the defense secretary and provides a daily summary of all-source intelligence and analysis. It would be great, Jennifer, if you or one of your officers would review these materials for us and then brief the secretary?”

  “I think I would give that morning brief myself,” she explained, “as I’m the only officer on board who has given briefs at the Pentagon. I’m most familiar with the briefing style and also with the specific elements the secretary would likely be most interested in.”

  “Okay, sounds good,” Lenny continued. “We also need message boards for special access traffic. Can you set up a space for us in CVIC for that purpose? It’s probably easier than attempting to create another SCIF somewhere else on the ship.”

  “You’re right about that,” Commander Abrams agreed. “Getting one of those facilities certified is a major undertaking with layers of bureaucracy.”

  Lenny laughed and added, “True, but if we really needed to get one approved, I think I know the person who could authorize it!”

  Jen had to remind herself exactly who she was dealing with now. She wasn’t accustomed to supporting such a senior government official. She supposed he could authorize his shirt pocket as a SCIF if he wanted to. “Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?”

  Lenny motioned to the two NCIS agents who had been patiently waiting for the opportunity to discuss their specific needs.

  “Special Agents DeSantis and Orr had a few things they wanted to discuss. Anna?”

  “Thank you, Mr. Wilson,” DeSantis said. “I’ll be heading up the protective service detail for the secretary, effective immediately. Special Agent Orr is about to conduct a vulnerability assessment to determine the likelihood of a threat to the secretary while he’s onboard Reagan. He’s going to need your team’s assistance in looking through crewmember service records to develop a shortlist of people who might be worth interviewing.”

  “What sort of things are you looking for?” Jen asked Kevin.

  Kevin paused, then opened a file, and glanced over a set of notes he had prepared for the meeting. “We’re interested in anybody who might have an issue with authority or who has a history of violence or disruption. People who have some type of addiction or just seem or act strange or suspicious. Everyone onboard has some type of security clearance, but in most cases, their clearance is based merely on a national agency check for criminal convictions. We’re also looking for people with an unmanageable amount of debt or who seem to be spending more money than their military pay could support. These are the kinds of indicators that might point to potential areas of concern. It’s just the first step in the vulnerability assessment.”

  Jen looked over at the list Kevin had prepared. “Okay,” she assured him. “I can help with that as well. I’d probably recommend keeping this effort restricted to just a few of us. I could see the crew misinterpreting it and starting to freak out.”

  Anna DeSantis was pleased. “Good point, Commander. Thanks,” she said. Anna reached into her jacket pocket and handed Jen a small gold lapel pin. �
��I’d like to give you one of these NCIS protective service pins. Only those who are assigned to our detail will wear one so that we can immediately identify who can be trusted. No pin, no unescorted access to the secretary.”

  Lenny looked around the table and announced, “I think that’s all for now. I really appreciate your help, Commander. We’ll try not to be too much of a burden.”

  Jen shook hands with Lenny and the two NCIS agents and escorted them out of CVIC.

  Rear Admiral Carlisle’s Stateroom, the Reagan

  Rear Admiral Joe Carlisle was in a foul mood, and he didn’t seem to care who knew it. Just yesterday morning he had been enjoying himself, hosting a pleasant breakfast in his cabin. Suddenly, he and the rest of the world learned that the president had appointed Colt Garrett as secretary of defense. Since the moment Garrett had arrived onboard Reagan, Carlisle had done what he could to make certain the former undersecretary knew his place. Although Captain Winters had warned him to show Garrett the respect he deserved, that warning went unheeded, and now Rear Admiral Joe Carlisle was paying the price. When a call to his Senator father did nothing to ease his anxiety, he was reminded that the old man’s influence was waning as his health declined. Joe figured that the Washington power brokers could sense the Senator was fading, and as a result, his son now found himself out in the cold in a mess of his own making. Not that he would admit that to Winters or anyone else.

  “Well, Captain, now you have really screwed things up. Mr. Garrett has kicked us out of the flag spaces, and I’m now being treated like a common seaman on my own flagship! So . . . what do you propose to do about it?”

  Captain Winters knew he was on dangerous ground with his admiral blaming him personally for the current situation. Winters thoroughly enjoyed the way Garrett summarily dismissed the arrogant Carlisle, but the man was still his boss and could easily end his career if he wanted to. He decided to ignore the admiral’s admonition and respond instead to his direct question.

  “Admiral, I think the best approach is to maintain a low profile for the time being. Garrett will be more than busy learning his new job, and most likely, he will soon be heading back to D.C. anyway. Then things will get back to normal. He doesn’t write your fitness report and will probably forget about you and everyone else on this ship the moment he sets foot in the Pentagon.”

  “Are you telling me to hide in this stateroom until he leaves?”

  “No, sir, I just meant that you should lay low and try to avoid confronting him during his remaining time onboard. You can act as if nothing happened between you, and you just want to offer assistance in any way you can.”

  Captain Winters didn’t want his personal opinion of the admiral to prevent him from doing his job as chief of staff. At times, however, he felt as though he was giving advice to his teenage daughter.

  “Fine. I‘ll keep my mouth shut and play nice, but he better not do anything to put this carrier group at risk.”

  Winters left the stateroom and headed to flag plot to see how the rest of the task force was doing. Walking down the long passageway with the blue deck, he had to wonder what Garrett could possibly do that would ever put the task force at risk?

  Headquarters, Republic of Korea Marine Corps, Hwaseong, South Korea

  The three-star Korean Marine Corps general looked out his office window at the frozen ground below. He saw children playing with one another in the small nearby park and wondered what their parents might think if they knew he was inside planning for the defense of their nation. When General Cho first learned that North Korea knew about the Americans’ lost biological weapons — and knew those weapons were hidden somewhere in the South — he initiated a quiet yet exhaustive investigation into how the information could have been leaked. He could count on two hands the number of people who were aware of the weapons’ existence in South Korea, and he had entrusted Colonel Chang to identify the traitor. Chang and his security team had thoroughly interrogated each person, using a variety of techniques from polygraph testing to increased electronic and video surveillance. Chang had even subjected himself to a polygraph test to demonstrate to the general his unrestrained pursuit of the truth, but he passed the test with flying colors, and no significant leads had ever emerged. General Cho knew he needed to do something different to find the leak in his organization. Perhaps a trap or two?

  Colonel Chang now stood in the general’s office, facing him and waiting for his next order. General Cho walked to his desk, sat down, and adjusted the chair. “Colonel Chang, I think we should accelerate our timeline for moving the American weapons off that island and positioning them closer to our operating forces near Seoul.”

  Chang couldn’t contain a gasp. The general had never shared any specifics before regarding the weapons’ current location. Hearing the passing reference to an island, he started guessing which island would be the most likely weapons cache. It would have to be remote and not associated with any major South Korean military facilities, and yet offer impenetrable storage for the very dangerous weapons of mass destruction.

  General Cho paused to let Chang process the new information and then opened a file on his desk. “Have a seat, Colonel, and let me share my secret with you.”

  The nautical chart that General Cho unfolded for Colonel Chang to inspect depicted Jeju Island, located south of the Korean peninsula in Jeju Province. Home to a natural and active volcanic with an extensive system of lava caves, the island had long been a popular tourist destination, with a large portion of its economy relying on both tourism and the economic activity generated by its several military bases.

  “Jeju is where my warheads are,” he said, pointing to its location on the chart. “I want you to start planning how to covertly move them back to the mainland. Take two days and then brief me on the most promising options. After we select the best approach, we will bring in a few more staff to further develop the operations plan. Tell no other person about this island; you and I are the only people who know what lies hidden there. Our national security rests with your discretion.”

  Colonel Chang left the general’s office and immediately began to weigh some options for safely transporting the weapons. By the end of the day, he had written up four different scenarios using a variety of transport alternatives. Drawing on his vast experience in special operations, Chang then drafted summaries of each option, listing their respective strengths and weaknesses. Finally, late at night, he gathered his materials and planning documents and locked them all in his office safe. He double-checked his office to ensure that everything related to the American warheads was safe and secure, then walked down the four flights of stairs and checked out of the highly secure military facility. He returned the salute of the guard on duty and walked the few city blocks on the now deserted street to his apartment.

  Locking the heavy front door behind him, Colonel Chang went to his bedroom, where he quietly undressed and slipped into his bed next to Kang Ji-woo, who was sound asleep on her side. He moved close behind her and began kissing her neck and stroking the small of her back. Ji-woo stirred, arched her back, and said softly, “Welcome home, my colonel. I am lucky to have such an important man as my lover.”

  The Blue House, Seoul, Korea

  Kim Seong-ho had served as head of state and president of the Republic of Korea for three years and still appreciated the perks of his high office. The most visible of those perks was his office and residence in the Blue House in the capital city of Seoul. The Blue House was actually a group of buildings that had been built on the grounds of the royal garden of the prominent Joseon Dynasty, which ruled South Korea from 1392 to 1910. Consisting of the presidential residence, the state reception house, the press hall, and various secretariat buildings, the entire complex covered more than 62 acres. An important reason President Kim had been elected was because of his promise to pursue normalization of relations with North Korea, which hopefully could lead to the eventual and long-awaited unification of the Korean peninsula. Although Kim
was assured the South Korean people supported his peace overtures with the North, he was well aware that several high-ranking military officers didn’t share their enthusiasm. When President Kim first heard North Korea’s claim that his government had somehow stolen American biological warheads, he initially considered the idea absurd. Surely as president, he would know if his country was in possession of such powerful weapons. He began to have his doubts, though, when the American denial of the reported loss seemed less than absolute. His concern further increased when he considered some of the factions within his military that conceivably could have done exactly what the North had claimed and kept the fact secret — even from him. In recent days he had tasked his security apparatus, the National Intelligence Service, or NIS, to get to the truth regarding the missing weapons.

  According to its official publications, the NIS — formerly the Korean Central Intelligence Agency — was divided into three directorates: international affairs, domestic affairs, and North Korean affairs. The NIS had responsibility for the collection, coordination, and distribution of all information regarding the nation’s strategy and security. In addition, the NIS led the investigation of crimes affecting national security and enforced provisions of both the Military Secrecy Protection Law and the National Security Law.

  NIS Director Pang now stood before the president, prepared to summarize what his investigators had learned thus far. “Good evening, Mr. President,” he began. “It appears your hunch that the military may have obtained biological weapons from the Americans was prescient. Our sources within our marine corps tell us there are records dating back to the removal of the American weapons from our country in 1991. They indicate that a number of those warheads might not have made the journey from the weapons storage facilities to the American transport ships. We have now increased our surveillance of military communications in the hope that someone may provide some piece of information that could lead us to the weapons.”