by Tom Carroll
It took Dan a moment to believe his good luck. This was the striking young ensign he had been admiring from afar since she first reported onboard the Reagan. He wanted desperately to talk with her, but he needed to find Carissa to thank her for what she had done for his career.
“Why, thanks, Ensign Clarke,” said Dan, reading her name badge. “Do you have a first name?”
“It’s Rebecca, Rebecca Clarke,” she said, offering her hand. “I work in combat systems. And you’re an aviator in VAQ-132?
“That’s right, and my name’s Dan. You have no idea how much I’d like to talk more, but I have to go find someone. When do you get off watch?”
“I have a bridge watch until 20:00. How about meeting up in the gym at 21:00?”
As Rebecca turned to head down the passageway, Dan closely watched her for a moment, thinking Awesome!
Defense Secretary Cabin, the Reagan
“It appears I’ll be replaced as acting secretary after we get back to Washington,” said Colt as he unemotionally handed the president’s written message to Lenny Wilson. “It was fun while it lasted?” he added, purposely making it sound like a question.
Lenny quickly read the message, then looked up at Colt. “I think you’ve missed the point, sir. The president says he plans to nominate you as permanent secretary, and that during your confirmation process, Steve Holmes will assume the acting role. Congratulations, sir! Well-deserved!”
“Thanks, Lenny. I see this as the president’s acknowledgment of the good work we’ve done out here. You’ve been a big part of it, every step of the way. I want you to know how much I appreciate all your help and counsel.”
“I’m proud to be on the team, sir,” Lenny replied, as he gathered some documents on the table.
“Are you all packed up, Lenny? Admiral Shaffer has just landed, and as soon as I get a chance to see him, we’ll be boarding that Osprey and heading to Tokyo. We’re going home!”
“I hear you, sir! And I just need to check on a couple of things with the staff before we leave.” Lenny opened the cabin door, and standing there waiting were Anna DeSantis and Kevin Orr.
“Come in!” said Colt. “Please, have a seat!”
The two NCIS special agents sat on the sofa facing Colt Garrett’s desk. “Mr. Secretary,” Anna said, “I understand you’ll be leaving soon and flying back to Tokyo, but I need to remain here and help Special Agent Orr with Commander Abram’s charging documents. I’ll contact the special agent in charge there to let him know you are coming. When you arrive at Yokota Air Force Base, Army CID officers will be responsible for your security and protection. I do want to say, sir, that it’s been an honor leading your protection detail.”
“Thank you, Special Agent DeSantis. And I want to thank both you and Special Agent Orr for the work you’ve done while I‘ve been here. I hope it hasn’t been too hard on the two of you, having to spend so much time together?”
Colt Garrett had an uncharacteristic twinkle in his eye, which made the two young agents squirm uncomfortably on the sofa. Colt continued. “I do have an interesting offer for both of you to consider. I’ve been talking with the secretaries of the Army and the Navy about initiating an inter-departmental exchange program, in which NCIS and CID agents spend tours working in each other’s agencies. We suspect that both agencies could learn a great deal from each other. I’m wondering if you two might be interested in participating in a pilot program that would involve you in my protection detail on a longer-term basis?”
Kevin glanced quickly at Anna. “Uh, Mr. Secretary, I think we’d be incredibly honored to work on your detail! We both have a lot we can learn, and a lot we can bring to this opportunity.”
Colt stood up and beamed. “Outstanding! You’ll receive orders in a few days to initiate the transfer. And believe me, I’ll feel better knowing you two will have my back.” Both agents shook Colt’s hand, waved goodbye, and left the cabin. As they walked together down the passageway, Anna said, “Do you think you can handle reporting to me, Kevin? I mean, I am senior to you!”
Kevin smiled. “In your dreams, very Special Agent DeSantis!”
Before Colt could get back to his desk to tie up some last-minute loose ends, the 7th Fleet Commander suddenly showed up in his doorway. “Good morning, Mr. Secretary! May I enter?”
“Admiral Shaffer! You made it! Please come in!”
“First, my old friend, let me congratulate you on being appointed as acting defense secretary! The last time we spoke on the Blueridge, you were a mere undersecretary! And did I just hear a rumor that the president has decided to make it permanent?”
Colt laughed. “You must well-connected! Is that why you flew out here this morning, to suck up to the new SECDEF?”
But the three-star admiral’s expression changed as he sat down on the sofa. “Not entirely, Colt. I brought my deputy commander out here with me to relieve Joe Carlisle of the task force. His recent interview has caused quite a stir in Washington, and I’ve lost confidence in his ability to command. I’m relieving him for cause, and his Navy career is over. In fact, I’ll be letting him know right after we’re done here. Unfortunately for you, I’m also ordering him to fly off the ship with you today — sorry about that.”
Having heard nothing that was much of a surprise, Colt said, “I suppose he’ll start his working on his run for Congress. I suspect we haven’t seen the last of him.”
Vulture’s Row, the Reagan
Dan Garrett opened the Pri-Fly door and stepped out onto Vulture’s Row, where he found Carissa Curtis watching the flight deck crew prepare his dad’s Osprey for launching. Sailors in purple-colored float coats were refueling the aircraft, while others were performing various tasks to prepare the plane for its flight to Tokyo.
“Carissa! There you are! I’ve been looking all over the ship for you!” said Dan as he went over to join her at the railing.
“I just love standing here and watching all the activity on the flight deck,” said Carissa. “It’s amazing how everyone knows exactly what to do; it’s like an expertly choreographed ballet.”
“True. It really is something, although I don’t think about it much anymore,” Dan replied. “The reason I was looking for you was to thank you for asking me in the interview about my plans for after this tour. Apparently, somebody important saw that broadcast, and I’ve just been advised that if I apply for test pilot school, I’ll most likely be accepted. I really have you to thank for that.”
Carissa faced Dan: “I’m happy for you! But I have to tell you that the idea to ask you that question actually came from other Mr. Garrett.”
“My dad suggested you ask me about my next tour? When did he do that?”
“After my interview with him. I think he wanted to find an indirect way to help you without using his high-profile position. He’s really a wonderful man, and he really cares about you.”
Dan said, “Thanks for letting me know, Carissa. I think I need to find the skipper right away,” and he turned and left Vulture’s Row.
The Flight Deck, the Reagan
Colt and Lenny stepped out from flight deck control and headed to the waiting Osprey finding eight Sailors standing in two rows of four at attention. Lenny stepped aside, and Colt walked through the two ranks of Sailors. The ship’s bell rang eight times and the topside loudspeaker proclaimed “DEFENSE, DEPARTING” as the boatswain piped the side and the last 32 measures of Sousa’s “Stars and Stripes Forever” played over the ship’s loudspeaker, formally honoring the United States Secretary of Defense.
Colt continued up the Osprey’s ramp, stepped inside, finding his assigned seat on the left, between Lenny Wilson and a stoic Admiral Carlisle. Colt began getting himself comfortable for the flight when he heard footsteps running up the ramp. When he glanced toward the ramp, Colt was surprised to see his son standing there.
“The skipper said I could ride back to Tokyo with you!” Dan said, beaming and filled with pride and excitement.
“Oh, Da
n! That’s great! Welcome aboard!” Turning to Admiral Carlisle, Colt said, “Joe, would you mind scooting down a seat so I can sit next to my son?”
As the Osprey lifted off the flight deck and started its transition to conventional flight, its copilot and four passengers were startled by the unexpected sound of a gun being fired every five seconds. The Osprey’s pilot smiled and said into her intercom, “Don’t worry, gentlemen, that’s just the Reagan firing a 19-gun salute honoring the Secretary of Defense!”
Yokota Air Force Base, Japan
Lieutenant General Mathew Williams stood at attention as the Navy Osprey taxied to a full stop at the Air Mobility Command passenger terminal. As Commander, U.S. Forces Japan, the three-star general had waited to officially greet the secretary of defense to Yokota Air Force Base. He rendered a crisp salute as Colt Garrett stepped down the Osprey’s ramp, accompanied by three other people, one in a business suit, one in a green flight suit, and another in the uniform of a Navy Rear Admiral.
“Welcome to Yokota, Mr. Secretary,” said General Williams as they shook hands.
“Thank you, General, very pleased to be here, although I believe Mr. Wilson and I will be heading soon to Washington. May I introduce Rear Admiral Carlisle and my son, Lieutenant Garrett?”
General Williams shook the two Naval officers’ hands and said, “Mr. Secretary, may I present Chief Warrant Officer and Supervisory Special Agent Glenn Carpenter? He and his Army CID team will now be providing your personal protection.”
“Nice seeing you again, Special Agent Carpenter,” said Colt with a smile as he shook Carpenter’s hand. “I’ll try not to give you too much trouble.”
“And Mr. Secretary, this is Colonel Jim Taylor, who is the mission commander of the E-4B over there. He and his crew will be flying you back to Washington in a few minutes.”
Colt turned to look at the large Boeing 747-200 derivative, also known as Nightwatch. He quietly said to Lenny, “It looks like you’ll be able to sleep in a bed on the way home!” Colt turned back to Jim Taylor. “Colonel, I’ll need a phone link as soon as we board, and I may be needing to make a brief stopover in Seattle. I’ll know after I make that phone call. Is that going to be possible?”
“No problem, sir. On Nightwatch, you can talk with anyone in the world. And my flight plan has us stopping to refuel at Joint Base Lewis McChord, an hour south of Seattle. We could stop for as long as you need. Would that work, sir?”
“That will work perfectly, Colonel. Just one more request.” Colt handed the colonel a small plastic case. “I’d like to bring this pistol back to D.C. with me. Is there any problem with that?” When Colonel Taylor saw the distressed look on General Williams’ face, an idea occurred to him. “Sir,” he said to Colt, “it’s against Air Force regs to transport a personal firearm. However, if you were to give me a written note stating the Secretary of Defense is authorized to transport the firearm, then I think we’d be okay!”
Colonel noticed a look of relief on General William’s face as Lenny produced a pad of yellow paper and quickly penned a note for the secretary’s signature. Colt handed the signed note to Colonel Taylor and said, “I think we’re going to get along very well, Colonel!”
Dan walked with his father across the tarmac toward the huge Nightwatch aircraft and paused at the bottom of the plane’s stairwell. “Dad, I think this is as far as I can go. I just wanted to say thanks. I have a good chance of getting into test pilot school, and I suspect you have something to do with that. So, I just want you to know I really appreciate it — and you.”
Dan grasped his son’s extended hand and then pulled him into a hug —a genuine, loving embrace between a proud father and a grateful son.
Bus 23, Incheon, South Korea
Kang Ji-woo sat quietly on the city bus going from Incheon to Wolmi Island, where she would take the next step in her escape from South Korea. The train ride from Seoul to Incheon had been uneventful, although the crowds made it difficult to determine if she was under surveillance. After arriving in Incheon, Ji-woo spent a few hours pretending to shop in the busy port city, looking in store windows in an attempt to spot anyone following her. She eventually arrived at the Incheon bus station and boarded bus 23 for the short ride to Wolmi Island.
She had received an urgent message in the dry cleaning bag from Mr. Yi that she must leave Seoul immediately and return to North Korea. The original plan was for her to depart the city in two days, but then she received a second communication instructing her to leave a day earlier, citing the arrest and interrogation of Colonel Chang as the reason for the accelerated schedule. Ji-woo was surprised at her sadness upon hearing of Chang’s torture. Although he was the target of her intelligence operation, she had developed a fondness for the man whose bed she had shared for the past several months. She certainly didn’t wish him any harm.
The small island she was heading toward was not much more than an attraction for local fishermen, allowing them to either fish from the bank or — for those who could afford it — hire a fishing charter into Kyonggi Bay. And Ji-woo certainly could afford it, with the equivalent of $100,000 U.S. in Korean won tucked into her small rolling suitcase. The money had been hidden in Colonel Change’s apartment behind a sofa and under the floorboards, but she had moved it and a variety of passports when she thought she detected surveillance over the weekend.
Wolmi Island, South Korea
As she had been instructed to, Ji-woo got off the bus from Inchon and walked to Cultural Street, where she found a small marina with several piers of fishing boats for hire. Walking down the pier marked #3, she pulled her suitcase along the wooden planks until she came to a small trawler with the name Seonchang-3 painted on the bow.
“Hello? Is anyone here?” she called from the pier. The sun had just set, and the small boat appeared dark, with no lights showing.
“Yes, I’m coming,” said an older man dressed in dark woolen trousers and a green cotton jacket. “What can I do for you, miss?”
Ji-woo smiled and said, “I need to hire you to take me out into the bay to meet my father’s yacht. He would have come into the harbor, but certain misunderstandings with the local police prevent him from docking at Wolmi at this time. You will be well paid for your service.”
She opened her wallet and handed the old captain a small stack of bills, which he immediately stuffed into his jacket pocket. Looking around briefly, the captain asked, “Where exactly are you to meet your father’s yacht?”
Ji-woo passed the captain a small piece of paper and said, “My father said to give these coordinates to you, and that you could enter them into your navigation system. Can you do that?”
He peered at the series of numbers on the piece of paper and said, “Yes, this is only about an hour’s ride into the bay. Can I help you with your bag?”
JI-woo picked up the bag and said, “No, thank you, I can manage quite well.”
Kyonggi Bay, South Korea
Once loaded, the small fishing trawler’s diesel engine propelled it slowly out into the bay, as the captain followed a course shown as a bright green line on his navigation screen. Ji-woo breathed a sigh of relief as the boat cleared the harbor’s breakwater and headed out into the darkness. She was pleased with her first undercover mission, and despite the misfortune that befell poor Colonel Chang, Ji-woo was proud of what she had accomplished. She looked forward to her return to Pyongyang and to her next assignment.
An hour later, still deep in her thoughts of returning to North Korea, Ji-woo was surprised when the boat’s captain said, “I believe we are here, but I don’t see any yacht!” Ji-woo opened the wheelhouse door and looked to the east. She removed a small LED flashlight from her coat pocket, turned on the power switch, and pointed the light toward the horizon. The captain watched with interest as the young woman sent a series of long and short flashes of light into the night. He was even more surprised when someone flashed a light back in response.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “Are yo
u signaling your father?”
She returned the flashlight to her pocket, saying, “Yes, Father is very careful and a bit dramatic. A small boat will arrive shortly to take me to his yacht.”
Within a few minutes, Ji-woo and the boat’s captain could hear the sound of an outboard motor when a black, inflatable rubber boat appeared. As the small boat gently bumped the fishing boat’s starboard side, two men dressed in black stepped aboard the fishing trawler while two others remained seated in the rubber boat.
One of the men nodded to Ji-woo as she handed him her suitcase. She turned to the fishing boat captain. “Thank you for your trouble. Please accept this as a token of my appreciation. Please do not mention taking me out here to anyone.”
She handed the small man a good-sized stack of currency before climbing down into the inflatable boat, which immediately sped away and into the darkness. The mystified trawler captain returned to his wheelhouse and shifted the engine into gear as he conned his boat back to the marina.
The four men in the inflatable boat remained silent during the trip out to sea, and that was fine with Ji-woo, who was relieved she didn’t have to make conversation. The boat suddenly stopped as one of the men turned on a flashlight and began sending the same set of flashes to the east that Ji-woo had used to communicate with the inflatable boat. She was surprised when a submarine’s periscope first appeared just ahead of the boat, and then as the sub continued to surface until its decks were just awash. The inflatable boat approached the submarine, and Ji-woo was quickly boosted up its wet sides, into a group of crewmen who hustled her through an open hatch in the sail and then down a steep ladder into the submarine’s pressure hull. She started to speak to a man who appeared to be the sub’s captain, but he motioned her to be silent while his crew stowed the inflatable and prepared the submarine to dive.
Ji-woo satisfied herself for a short while by watching the preparations for diving beneath the sea. Having seen enough, she stepped over to the small table in the submarine’s cramped control room to help herself to a cup of tea. Finally, retiring to a small chair, Ji-woo was joined by a distinguished-looking man in an expensive suit.