Instead of helping themselves to the always available pot of coffee, Yuri and Chang elected to have green tea which Jeff brewed in a teapot. They were alone.
Thanks,” Yuri said after Jeff filled Yuri’s mug. The high quality porcelain cup was decorated with the Colorado’s crest—the head of a charging mustang with the profile of the submarine’s hull superimposed on the image. Also embedded in the emblem was the ship’s motto: Terra Marique Indominta—By land and sea, untamed.
Chang took a seat at the mess table next to Yuri, carrying a duplicate ship’s mug. “This is quite a machine, isn’t it,” Jeff offered after a cautious taste of the steaming brew.
“I’m impressed. This boat is superior to anything Russia has—and China too.”
“That’s good to hear.”
After taking a sip, Yuri said, “I assume you’ve been aboard subs before.”
“I have…a Los Angeles class.”
“They’re still excellent boats, very difficult to detect.”
Jeff stretched his arms out. “The Colorado is larger than the one I was aboard. The extra space is nice.”
“If I may ask, what kind of mission were you on that required you to travel by submarine?”
Chang smiled. “Let’s just say that I was part of a team that helped extract a high value asset out of harm’s way.”
Yuri chuckled. “Okay, I get it.” He took another swallow from his mug. “I know you’re a diver but can you elaborate on your experience.”
“Started off with basic scuba, which was part of original training at the CIA. I took additional training with rebreathers.”
“What’s your deepest dive with a rebreather?”
“Shallow. One hundred and twenty feet max.”
“Helium and oxygen mix?”
“Yes.” Chang rested an elbow on the table. “How about you?”
“Numerous hundred meter plus operational dives.”
The CIA officer did the math. “Wow, almost three hundred and thirty feet. That’s crazy deep. What were you doing?”
“Installation and retrieval of surveillance equipment.”
Chang suppressed a laugh. “That wouldn’t happened to have taken place in U.S. waters, would it?”
Yuri just smiled.
Yuri suspected Chang had a detailed digital file on his background, compiled by the FBI, CIA and various DoD agencies. Yuri had zilch on Chang. He was more than curious about the CIA operative’s background. He decided to probe.
“Did you grow up in America?”
“I did. In Seattle, which I guess is also your adopted hometown.”
“We live east of Seattle in the suburbs.”
“I know. Your partner has a home that overlooks Lake Sammamish. Very nice area to live in. I have a brother who has a home nearby in Issaquah.”
“What does he do?”
“Software engineer for Microsoft.”
Yuri and Chang chatted several minutes about suburban life on the eastside of Lake Washington before Yuri relaunched his probe. “I take it you live in the Washington, D.C. area.”
“Virginia. I have a condo in Arlington.”
“Married?”
“No. My present situation doesn’t allow for any long-term relationships.”
“I know how that is.”
Yuri and Chang spent a couple more minutes comparing their nomadic lifestyles, Yuri as a young officer in the Russian Navy and Jeff as a fledgling CIA case officer. Yuri learned that Chang had spent time in the U.S. embassy in Beijing and the consulate in Hong Kong. Fluent in both Mandarin and Cantonese, his language skills helped advance his career.
Yuri switched to a new tack. “Tell me about your parents.”
Caught off guard, Chang said, “What do you mean?”
“I’m just curious. What does your dad do for a living?”
“He’s retired now but he used to work as an engineer. His specialty was structural engineering. Worked mainly on the design of high-rise buildings throughout the West Coast.”
“That’s impressive, you must be very proud of his accomplishments.”
“I am. He was also a partner of the company, which is based in Seattle. It has several hundred employees and a couple of branch offices.”
“Was he an immigrant?”
“No. He was born in Seattle, like me. But his father, my grandfather, immigrated from China before World War II.”
“Hmmm…so he managed to get out before Japan invaded China?”
“Yes. Granddad had earned a degree in civil engineering in China and was able to find work in Seattle.”
Yuri considered Chang’s lineage. “Why didn’t you pursue engineering? Your grandfather, father and brother are all engineers.”
“I’m not wired like them. I’m competent in math but I’m not wild about it. Plus, what engineers do just doesn’t interest me.”
That provided a transition to the real purpose of Yuri’s soft interrogation. “So, how did you end up working for the Central Intelligence Agency?”
“Well, my mother indirectly pointed me in that direction.”
That statement captured Yuri’s attention. “Really.”
“Mom’s an attorney, a partner in a Seattle firm. She’s ten years younger than Dad and still practices law.” Jeff fought off a yawn. “I was in my sophomore year at the University of Washington in a liberal arts program, majoring in English. I already had basic Mandarin skills because of my mom. She emigrated from Shanghai with her family when she was ten. She suggested that I take a minor in Asian languages, which I did. It came easy to me so I became fluent in Mandarin as well as Cantonese. I also speak passable Japanese and Korean.”
Yuri connected the dots. “I take it the CIA recruited you out of school?”
“Eventually, yes. I had just completed a master’s degree program at Yale. History of Asian languages. I was thinking about continuing on with a doctorate program to pursue an academic career when I was pitched.”
Yuri grinned. “Let me guess, see the world, protect your nation, work with highly motivated patriots.”
“Close. But when I really thought about it, I just couldn’t see myself spending the next thirty years teaching Asian language history to undergrads who more than likely could care less.”
“Itchy feet, right?”
“You got it. I signed up with the Company, spent time at the Farm, and then started work at Langley. I’ve never looked back.”
Yuri’s thoughts coalesced. This guy’s a hardcore spook—just like me.
Chapter 44
Day 30—Thursday
Dr. Meng Park was alone inside the Lian’s radio room. Located just aft of the bridge, the compartment contained an array of cutting edge communication equipment. This morning she used the satellite phone system. The unit was military grade, employing the PLA’s latest encryption technology.
Captain Zhou Jun was on the other end of the satellite link in his S5 office at the Shendao Naval Base. He initiated the call, summoning Park from the aft deck where she supervised the installation of the Serpent antisubmarine system.
“Fleet continues to pester me about your progress,” Zhou said.
“Well, we’re finally at Station Five. The weather is rough again so we’re currently waiting for the wind and seas to die down. We might have a six hour window coming up in midafternoon.”
The Lian was approximately five hundred miles east of Sanya, located about half way between Hong Kong and the north shore of Luzon Island in the Philippines. The ship hovered near the peak of a seamount along the northern rim of the South China Sea. Water depth over the rise was about 1,000 feet. Two miles to the northeast in 2,900 feet of water lay the hulk of the Toyohi Maru. Two miles southeast of the seamount was the Shoryu Maru; the wreck rested on the bottom 3,500 feet down. Both Japanese cargo ship
s were sunk by U.S. submarine action on May 4, 1944.
“Okay,” Captain Zhou said, “Assuming you’re able to deploy the Viper Five station today, what’s your estimate regarding Six?” The planned location for the Viper Six subsea station was approximately two hundred miles to the south.
“Late tomorrow—if we’re lucky.”
Installation of Serpent was critically behind schedule. The other ship operating in the southern half of the South China Sea basin had deployed only two of its six VIPER subsea stations. Plagued with equipment failures and delayed by the same crappy weather as the Lian, the ship was currently moored at a PLAN naval facility in the Spratly Islands undergoing repairs. The illegal Chinese base covered almost seven hundred acres, nearly all of it manmade.
For several years, a fleet of dredges had dug up the bottom surrounding the original rock outcrop marked on charts as Fiery Cross Reef. The reef was named for the British tea clipper Fiery Cross after it impaled itself on the shoal in 1860.
“I know you’re working hard,” Zhou said. “If you can deploy Viper Six, at least we’ll have the north half of the basin covered. That should help appease Beijing.”
“Thanks. Everyone aboard is aware that the clock is ticking.” Dr. Meng massaged the back of her neck. She was worn out and had slept poorly the previous night. “So, how’s it going on your end?”
“Very well for a change. We’ve managed to integrate the four units you’ve deployed and the two from the other ship into the S5 command structure. The system appears to be working as planned.”
“You haven’t gone live yet, have you?”
“No. It’s still in test mode only.”
“Good. Just remember that when I get back to Sanya, I need to run final diagnostics on the integrated system before activation.”
“I know. Don’t worry, it’s all going to work out.”
“Okay,” Meng Park said.
Before signing off, Zhou promised to pick up Park when the Lian returned to Sanya. Despite Zhou’s optimism, she worried, her downbeat thoughts racing.
The system is not ready for combat!
The flaw in the Serpent’s operating code that controlled communications between multiple Viper units was her chief concern. Her team managed to code a workaround to the problem but it had not been tested.
This is crazy―we could easily lose control of the system and not even know it.
Meng feared that one or more of the deployed Vipers might end up going rogue, attacking a civilian merchant vessel. Dozens of container ships, tankers and cruise liners sailed through the South China Sea every day. Even worse, China’s own submarines and surface warships might be targeted.
Meng based the code for Serpent on proprietary software that she stole while conducting research in the United States. It was a coworker’s project funded by the United States Air Force that developed complex algorithms to control swarms of aerial drones. The classified code was accessible with her credentials. The Chinese software engineers assigned to Serpent were confident with their adaptation of the purloined code. Still, Meng had her doubts.
If we have problems, I’ll have to shut it down.
Meng had inserted a backdoor in the Serpent operating system, which was known only to her. For security purposes, the PLAN admiral in charge of Serpent mandated that control of the system rest with S5 headquarters at Shendao and nowhere else. Meng violated the protocol as a safety measure during deployment operations. If a Viper unit malfunctioned while at sea, she wanted a way to swiftly shut down the weapon. Relying on S5 to implement the abort procedure was judged as too risky by Meng. She also did not trust the acoustic shutdown code developed by the S5 programmers; field tests of the abort algorithms, including acoustic countermeasures by a target vessel, revealed serious flaws that had not yet been remedied.
Meng’s secret abort signal was also acoustic but it was designed to “kill” a rogue Viper on the spot rather than sending it home. The signal could be directed to an individual Viper unit or an entire subsea base station. She kept a copy of the abort key recording on the cell phone she carried while aboard the Lian—just in case one of the Vipers decided to target its host. Using the ship’s internal communications network to access the main hydrophone mounted to the keel, Meng could playback the abort recording. Boosting the signal strength a hundredfold, the hydrophone would broadcast the kill code into the deep where the Vipers ranged at will.
Once we’re done, I’ll seal the backdoor. No one will ever know.
After the twelve Serpent subsea stations were installed and tested in the South China Sea, Meng Park would delete the abort code from the network.
* * * *
Fifteen times zones behind the Lian, it was 8:05 P.M. in downtown Bellevue, Washington. Laura Newman was in the living room of the high-rise condominium apartment she rented. Madelyn slept in her bedroom. Maddy’s nanny spent two to three evenings a week at her boyfriend’s residence in Redmond, returning to the condo early in the following morning to start work.
Laura sat cross-legged on a sofa composing a Cognition memorandum with a laptop when her iPhone chimed, signaling an incoming text message. She picked up the cell from a side table. The text was one word long: HERCULES.
What’s this about? she wondered, staring at the display.
Laura checked for the source of the message but there was no sender name or mobile telephone number, not even a four or five digit sender code.
Hercules—what’s that supposed to mean?
Chalking up the mystery text as a fluke, Laura returned the phone to the table and continued working on the memo. About five minutes later, the revelation hit with the impact of a sledgehammer.
Hercules—that was the name of the workboat we used at Point Roberts!
Laura set the laptop aside and turned toward the nearby window wall. She ignored the dazzling night vista. Instead, her mind raced at supersonic speed. Who sent it? What do they want? Is it about what happened to Dan Miller?
Miller was the captain and owner of the MV Hercules, a ninety-six foot workboat that Laura chartered to help Yuri rescue the survivors from a Russian submarine accident. The Neva sank offshore of Point Roberts, Washington near Vancouver, B.C. The marooned Neva had rested on the mud bottom over seven hundred feet deep.
Laura had just about convinced herself that the text was about Miller—and his demise when another possibility registered.
Could this be about Ken?
Ken Newman was Laura’s ex; almost two years earlier he had stalked Laura while she hid out at a beach house in Point Roberts. Yuri and Ken had collided—violently.
Ken’s mother hired a private investigator to look into Ken’s disappearance. The P.I. made a couple of trips to Point Roberts.
Oh, dear Lord, maybe the P.I. traced Ken to the Hercules!
Laura thought through that scenario and dismissed it. No way. No one else would have ever seen Ken on the Hercules. It was just Yuri and me…and Nick!
Finally, it all clicked. It’s Nick!
Nicolai Orlov assisted Yuri and Laura at Point Roberts. He also saved them from Ken’s treachery. Earlier this year, Nick had sent Laura another one word text: NEVA. It was a code.
Laura worked her laptop. She logged onto the anonymous Gmail account that she and Yuri shared with Nick, ignoring Yuri’s warning to avoid using it.
She opened the draft folder and discovered the unsent message.
It is from Nick!
Chapter 45
Day 31—Friday
Underway for over two days, the USS Colorado was southbound in the Pacific. It followed the Ryukyu Island chain, presently running at twenty knots six hundred and fifty feet below the surface. The Japanese island of Okinawa was about fifty miles away to the northwest.
Yuri Kirov and Jeff Chang were in training. They stood inside the submarine’s lockout trunk with two
SEALs from the Ghost Riders recon team. The combination emergency escape trunk and special ops lockout-lockin compartment was located on the Colorado’s top deck level just aft of the sail. The airlock was designed to allow a nine man SEAL assault team to egress and ingress the submarine during one cycle of flooding and draining of seawater.
Yuri and Jeff had spent time in a pool back at Yokosuka with the SEALs training with the diving gear. This morning was their last exercise. Neoprene dry suits covered Yuri and Jeff from head to foot. Rebreather packs were strapped to their chests. Gloves, facemasks, weight belts and buoyancy compensators completed the ensembles. The two SEALs were similarly adorned.
Master Chief “Wild Bill” Halgren was in charge, assisted by CPO Ryan Murphy, aka Malibu Murph.
“Okay gents,” Halgren said, “you know the drill. I’m going to flood the chamber to the equivalent pressure of forty feet of seawater. I want you to hang onto the handholds, no swimming around until I give the okay signal. Got it?”
“Understood,” Yuri said. Jeff Chang echoed Yuri.
“If either of you have any problems, signal us immediately.” Halgren looked Yuri’s way. “I’m going to watch you.” He gestured to Jeff. “Murph’s got your six.
Yuri and Jeff acknowledged their understanding.
“Okay, let’s do it.”
All four prepared for flooding. They slipped on their facemasks, covering eyes and noses. Next, each man retrieved his closed-circuit rebreather gas hose and clamped down on its rubber mouthpiece. The divers inhaled and exhaled, verifying gas flow.
When prompted by Halgren, Yuri and Jeff hand signaled they were okay.
Seawater began to flow into the compartment. Yuri expected to hear the usual racket of rushing water but he heard just a whisper. Amazing, he thought. They employ sound suppression techniques on virtually everything on this boat. No wonder no one can hear them.
As the water level in the compartment surged over Yuri’s head, he gripped the handhold. He was buoyant and needed to release air from the horse collar buoyancy compensator draped around his neck. He made eye contact with Halgren and pointed to the purge valve on the BC.
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