Stabenow, Dana - Blindfold Game (v1

by Blindfold Game(lit)

  The Doughnut Hole was a roughly triangular area in the center of the Bering Sea, far enough away from the United States and Russian coastlines to form a no-mans-ocean outside of any nations jurisdiction. It had been so overfished during the last century that it was now closed by international treaty to allow the native marine species, especially pollock, to repopulate. What the fishing vessel the Sojourner Truth was now in pursuit of thought they could pull out of the Doughnut Hole was a question only they could answer. Sara had a feeling that Captain Lowe, who had been tried pretty far on this patrol, was determined to have an answer.

  An hour later one of the lookouts posted above called down a sighting. Out came the binoculars.

  Sara braced her legs against the swell and peered forward. The rise and fall of the waves intermittently obscured the stern, but not for so long they couldnt make out the name.

  “I dont fucking believe this, Mark Edelen said.

  “No gear in the water, though, maam, Tommy said, eyes glued to binoculars.

  “Ill be with the captain, Chief, Sara said.

  The door to the captains cabin was closed. Sara rapped on it hard enough to make her knuckles sting. “Its the XO, Captain.

  “Enter. She opened the door and she stepped inside. “Close it, XO.

  She closed the door without comment. The captain was sitting at his desk, in front of his computer. He didnt look happy, and Sara didnt imagine that what she was about to tell him would make him any happier. “Captain

  He jerked a thumb at the monitor. “Make ready to go to flight quarters, XO.

  “the fishing vessel has been What?

  “Go to flight quarters, he said. “Make ready to bring our helo back on board.

  “Helo? I thought our helo was in St. Paul.

  “So did I.

  “Captain, Sara said, and found herself momentarily and uncharacteristically at a loss for words. She tried again. “Captain, St. Paul is over three hundred nautical miles from here. They cant make it that far on their fuel tanks.

  “Not without a good southeasterly, he agreed. “They refueled midway.

  She thought quickly, and remembered the cutter they had passed the day before going in the opposite direction. “The Alex Haley?

  He nodded.

  “They did, what, a hot refueling?

  “They did an in-flight refueling, the captain said, “a little over the midway point.

  Sara wondered for how much longer Lieutenants Sams and Laird were going to be members in good standing of the United States Coast Guard. “Sir, far be it from me to leap to the defense of an aviator, but this just doesnt sound like something either Lieutenant Sams or Lieutenant Laird would do. Theyre both pretty cautious.

  “Not all that cautious, it would seem, the captain said with dangerous calm.

  “Theyre going to be dragging by the time they get here, Sara said, appalled at the notion of bringing the helo back on board with exhausted aviators at the controls.

  “Yes, the captain said, but he didnt fool Sara. He was almost vibrating with worry. And rage.

  All she could think to say was “Why?

  “Apparently theyve got a VIP on board.

  She gave up trying to maintain any semblance of cool and said, “Who absolutely positively has to get here overnight.

  “Thats right.

  “Who? And for gods sake, why?

  “They wont say. They say the VIP will explain upon arrival.

  Sara tried to think of a reason so important to put a helo on the nose of forty-five-knot winds and fly three hundred miles, and failed. “Are they going to make it?

  “Theyve got something of a tailwind, so Im told. That hurricane of NOAAs is giving them a little push in our direction.

  “I just bet it is, Sara said.

  “And then the e-mail went out again before I could ask District what thewhat theyre up to, Captain Lowe said, gesturing toward the computer. “But not before I got us a letter of no objection.

  By which was meant, District was leaving the method of pursuit and interdiction of the fishing vessel theyd caught in the Doughnut Hole up to the discretion of the captain of the Sojourner Truth.

  She opened her mouth and he waved her to silence. “I know, XO, we say we dont shoot anybody over fish. But Im tired of these guys stepping all over us. I want to throw a little scare into them. Lets send them home with a story to tell about how crossing the line into U.S. territory is, to paraphrase that known felon, Martha Stewart, not a good thing.

  “You can shoot at these guys with my great good will, Captain, she said cordially. “You can sink them and I might be so upset Id have to make myself another cappuccino.

  He looked taken aback. “I beg your pardon, XO?

  She met his eyes. “Its the Agafia, sir.

  JANUARY

  THE MARITIME BOUNDARY LINE

  ON BOARD THE USGG CUTTER SOJOURNER TRUTH

  C

  APTAIN LOWE RETURNED TO the bridge, Sara on his heels. “Flight quarters, he said. Everyone stared.

  “Flight quarters, he repeated.

  “Were bringing our helo back on board, Sara said when nobody moved.

  Everyone stopped staring at the captain and started staring at her.

  “Flight quarters, she said patiently.

  “But, XO, the Agafia, Ops said. He even pointed at the outline of the ship nearing a threateningly black horizon that also seemed to be moving, only toward them instead of away. “Were half a mile off and theyre still way inside the exclusion zone.

  “Flight quarters, Ops, the captain said in a deceptively gentle voice. He even smiled.

  “Aye aye, sir, Ops said.

  Hats were whipped off smartly and the news was piped to the crew. Shortly thereafter phones began to ring as various members of the deck crew called the bridge to see if they were serious. Assured that the bridge was, they began to assemble aft, not without a lot of nonverbal communication that indicated a certain lack of faith in the sanity of the entire command structure of the U.S. Coast Guard. Shortly thereafter the hangar was retracted, and as if that was the signal, the radio sparked into life, signaling the approach of the helo.

  “Tallyho! Mark Edelen said, pointing, and they all looked east to see a bright orange speck against the now black clouds boiling up out of the south.

  “Put our nose on the seagulls ass, Chief, Sara said.

  “Aye aye, XO, Chief Edelen said. “Helm, zero-seven-zero, all ahead full.

  “Zero-seven-zero, all ahead, aye, Chief.

  “XO, the captain said.

  “Sir?

  “Get aft. I want that VIP standing in my cabin talking fast thirty seconds after they hit the deck.

  “Aye aye, Captain, Sara said.

  She hit the portside hatch at not quite a run, registering by the wind on her cheek that the temperature had risen a couple of degrees since shed last taken the air on deck, and slid down the ladder with her elbows on the railings.

  “Hey, XO, youre out on deck without your float coat, said Seaman Rosenberg as she trotted past. She wanted to flip him off but it didnt suit either her rank or his.

  She hit the main deck and fetched up behind a cowling. The helo was running up on the stern about a hundred feet up. They throttled it way back and approached the hangar deck on tiptoe, nose down, tail up. The closer they got, the smaller the deck looked to Sara. The swell was increasing in height, pushed up by the approaching storm, and the stern bobbed and weaved like Muhammad Ali. Float like a butterfly and sting like a bee.

  The helo made it over the taffrail and hovered over the hangar deck.

  It was ten feet from touchdown when the ship slammed down into the sea and the deck slid out from beneath it. The superstructure of the ship stopped shielding the helo from the wind and a good forty-knotter caught her upside the head. Whoever was driving wisely decided that discretion was the better part of valor and hit the throttle, roaring off to port, circling around, and coming up again on the stern.

  S
ara crouched down behind the cowling, the force of the wind threatening to pull her hair out by the roots, and worked at reswallowing her heart. The LSO was crouched against the exterior of the hangar. “You okay? he yelled, or she supposed he did. She saw his lips moving, but she couldnt hear him over the wind, the all ahead full the Sojourner Truth had going on. She gave him a thumbs-up, and then they both heard the second approach of the helo and he duck-walked forward to stand in front of the hangar and guide them in.

  She could hardly bear to watch, but this time they plunked her down right in the gold, in the exact center of the circle painted on the hangar deck. Sara scuttled around the hangar, dragging her knuckles like an ape, and yelled in Ostlunds ear, “Theyve got a passenger the captain wants to see pronto.

  He nodded and followed the rest of his deck crew forward, hunched over so the rotor wouldnt take their heads off. He reached the helo and slapped the side. She could see Sams, in the left seat, crack his door. Ostlund yelled at him. Sams nodded. The LSO walked around the front of the helo and disappeared. Through the windscreen Sara could see the helos aft door slide open and someone step to the deck.

  Ostlund came scrambling back around the helo on a heading for Sara, followed by someone tall bundled into a Mustang suit and a watch cap pulled low over his brow.

  “This heres our XO, shell take you to the captain.

  “Thanks. The man unbuckled his helmet and turned to Sara.

  Her jaw dropped.

  “Hi, Sara, Hugh said. “I need to talk to your commanding officer. Now.

  The ship heeled suddenly and hard to port, and everyone staggered to regain their balance. There were shouts and curses from the hangar deck as the deck crew hung on to the helos tie-downs. With a great sense of foreboding Sara looked around to see that the next storm had indeed come upon them. Blowing snow needled into her exposed skin. The seas were rising, and the wind howled around the ship like a hungry wolf.

  “Follow me, she said to Hugh, and then had to yell it again so he could hear her over the sound and fury of the storm.

  “ALL RIGHT, LOWE SAID.

  They were in the wardroom. Lowe sat at the head of the table facing Hugh, who stood opposite him at the tables foot in front of a dry board which was covered with an outline of names, dates, and places. On the captains left were Sara, Ops, and the Engineer Officer, a tall, pencil-thin young man who could barely find his way to the bridge but who could disassemble a Caterpillar generator and put it back together again blindfolded. On the captains right were Ensign Ostlund, Ensign Ryan, and Chief Mark Edelen.

  “You want us to believe that a North Korean terroristno, twohave built themselves a backpack bomb filled with radioactive material, loaded it into a mobile missile launcher, which they have then smuggled on board an oceangoing vessel, and are currently attempting to sail it into these waters, for the purposes of aiming the weapon at a target in Alaska, which you have been told by a less than reliable source to be one of the military bases, Elmendorf or Eielson. Why not Valdez, by the way? The oil terminal ought to go up with a bang big enough to keep any terrorist happy.

  Hugh met the captains sarcasm with the same stoicism he had displayed for the last hour. He held a black marker, the cap of which he repeatedly clicked on and clicked off. Click, click. “First of all, sir Hugh was respectful but firm. “A backpack bomb is generally held to be nuclear, and, uh, well, in a backpack. I dont think that is the case here.

  “Really? What is it, then?

  The ship rolled over a swell and Hugh took a quick step to keep his balance. “Its a dirty bomb. Instead of a weapon of mass destruction, its called a weapon of mass disruption.

  Sara, watching the captain out of the corner of her eye, saw him take a deep breath, and wondered what room on board she could convert to a brig when the captain finally lost his temper and ordered her to throw Hugh into it. “Whats the difference between the two?

  “Whats most important to a terrorist is that the weapon of mass disruption is a lot cheaper to make.

  “More bang for your buck, eh? the captain said.

  Hugh didnt make the mistake of smiling at this almost genial query. “Partly, sir. There is also the fact that fissile, that is, weapons-grade uranium and plutonium are much more closely controlled and monitored than radioactive materiel.

  “Like cesium.

  “Like cesium-137, yes, sir. Cesium-137 is an isotope used in medical procedures like radiotherapy. Its relatively easy to get, and much cheaper to buy in bulk than weapons-grade uranium.

  “Or plutonium. Yes, sir.

  The ship rolled. Hugh hung on to the edge of the dryboard, waiting for the ship to regain the vertical.

  “Whats it look like?

  “Talcum powder.

  “Handy, the captain said. “You could hide it in an Old Spice bottle. Yes, sir.

  “But you dont think theyre hiding it. You think theyre about to use it.

  “Yes, sir. Click, click.

  “Based on nothing but a lot of circumstantial evidence.

  “A lot of what I do is connect the dots, sir.

  The captain didnt rush to contradict him, but Sara knew he would be marginally impressed by this frank admission.

  “But if you connect these dotsHugh pointed at the dry board “youll see that in this case there is enough circumstantial evidence to warrant concern. The intelligence accumulated about North Koreans trained by al-Qaida in Afghanistan. Recovery of blueprints for such a bomb from the al-Qaida caves. The report of the sale of enough cesium-137 to build such a bomb. Much more than necessary, actually, my informant said that

  “How much is enough?

  “Less than two ounces, sir.

  Sara, watching the captain because she didnt want to look at Hugh, saw him trying to hide his shock. “How is it detonated?

  “A couple of pounds of dynamite will get the job done.

  The officers exchanged glances. “You are talking about a piece of ordnance that could fit into a shoebox.

  Hugh thought about it. “Not much bigger than that, sir, no. Easily loaded into the warhead of a missile.

  “A missile that can be launched by a mobile missile launcher. Yes, sir.

  “Like from a ship.

  “Like from a ship, sir, yes, Hugh said.

  Ryan cleared his throat. “If I may, Captain? The captain nodded. “Mr. Rincon, youre going to need a pretty heavy ship to carry a missile launcher, and an even heavier one to launch it without sinking the ship that is carrying it. The force of the thrust generated by the fuel upon liftoff would crack the spine of your average freighter.

  “I dont think they care if they sink their ship, Mr. Ryan. I think they only care about delivering the weapon and wreaking as much death and destruction as they possibly can. These arent soldiers were talking about here; these are terrorists.

  “Do they have a missile launcher, Mr. Rincon?

  “They bought one, Captain. At the same time and through the same dealer as the cesium-137.

  The phone rang. Sara answered it. “Wardroom.

  “XO, I

  “Is the ship sinking?

  “Uh, no, but

  “Then not now, Tommy. Sara hung up.

  “As I said before, sir, Hugh said respectfully, displaying a heretofore unknownat least to Saratalent for soothing the savage breast of command, “terrorists dont think in terms of big bangs. They think in terms of numbers of people killed, and of television footage broadcast worldwide of those people in body bags laid out in rows. The more rows the better. A weapon of the sort I have just described will destroy Elmendorf, and a city the size of Anchorage along with it. Click, click.

  “Okay, thats another thing, excuse me, Captain, Ryan said. “Whats the range of a mobile missile launcher? Because Elmendorf is twelve hundred miles from the Maritime Boundary Line.

  “The range of your standard Scud is three hundred kilometers, Hugh said.

  Ops got that faraway look in his eyes he always got when he was carrying the one.
“Thats less than two hundred miles.

  Ryan looked at the captain, and the tension around the table relaxed.

  “I think thats the whole point of loading the weapon onto a commercial vessel, Hugh said. He was speaking slowly and deliberately, displaying no impatience. “Theres hundreds, thousands of them in and out of port cities every day. We cant look at them all or wed bring global commerce to a halt. Click, click.

  “What kind of a commercial vessel? the captain said.

  “Initially I thought a freighter. A Scud would fit very neatly into a forty-foot container. All theyd have to do is make sure it was loaded on top.

  “Could it be controlled by remote?

  Ryan stirred. “Logistically, sir, given the distances involved, theyd have to launch it themselves.

  The captain looked back at Hugh. “You said initially you thought a freighter. Has something changed your mind?

  “A source in Hong Kong tells us I was right about the container but wrong about the ship. Its a fishing vessel, a catcher-processor, one big enough to load empty containers on board, which they then fill with product. Only two wont be empty.

  “One for the weapon, one for the terrorists.

  “Yes, sir. Click, click.

  The captains head turned toward Ops. “Ops?

  “Still no joy on the sat phone, sir, Ops said. “And our e-mail is still down.

  There was no point in killing the messenger, but Sara could tell that Lowe was greatly tempted. So could Ops, who was regarding the table with a rapt look, as if by not making eye contact the captain might forget that he was present.

  “Theres always the VHF, Ryan said.

  “With the entire Bering Sea listening in, Sara said. “Including, always supposing they exist, these terrorists.

  Hughs gaze was level and flat, his tone impersonal, without inflection. She could have been a total stranger. “They exist. Click, click.

  The silence hung heavy over the room. The captain pushed back from the table and rose to his feet. “XO, with me.

  Sara followed the captain from the wardroom into the pantry. The captain shut the door behind themthe door into the companionway had long since been secured, with BMOD Meridian braced against it and staring stolidly ahead, pretending to be deafand turned to face her. “How reliable is this guy? he said bluntly.