Seawolf End Game (3 page)

“I leaned down to hear him; he was whispering.”

Brodie nodded, saying no more.

“He knew he was dying. He could feel his heart giving out…” she uttered softly, her eyes once again transfixed on Brodie’s hand gently caressing the table top. “He told me goodbye, and thanked me for getting him out of North Korea. He said something about enjoying the free air.”

Across the table, the men watched in fascination as she remembered.

“He said the UN Security Council would never approve military force against them. They had assurances from the Russians there would be no war.”

Pencils scribbled feverishly as the men resumed writing.

She looked at Brodie, again with a questioning eye. “He told me his people needed fuel oil to heat their homes. They had none in their country, and every year thousands died from the bitter cold. Then he mentioned a general named…” she hesitated as she tried to remember.

The pencils stopped. The men’s eyes stared at her intently, but they were now just fixtures on the wall. Her entire world had shrunk down to just her and Brodie.

“Cheong,” she suddenly remembered, and the pencils resumed scribbling furiously. “General Cheong-In,” she hesitated. “I couldn’t understand his full name, but the general told the doctor it was important to maintain the illusion of progress with their rocket program to keep the United States preoccupied with what the DPRK was doing on the peninsula.”

She looked at Brodie who sat calmly. She saw the warmth and pride in his eyes.

“There was more, but…” she shook her head, “he couldn’t finish.”

Brodie nodded and lifted his teacup and took a sip. “That’s good, Lieutenant,” he said regaining some of his professionalism. “Thank you.”

“Did he say anything else?” Jones asked sharply, wanting more.

Kristen didn’t have to answer. Brodie’s eyes turned hard almost instantly as he looked across the table at the man. “No,” he told him flatly. “That’s all he said.”

“We need more,” Jones insisted. “She needs to dig deeper.”

“There is no more,” Brodie replied and set the saucer down, clearly growing agitated again. “Now how about you go back to wherever you came from and figure the rest out for yourself.”

Beagler gave Brodie a warning glance. “Sean…”

But Brodie was fuming, tired of the questions and all of the second guessing. He leaned forward and once more was pointing at Jones accusingly. “If you assholes at the CIA could ever get your shit together then—”

“Captain,” Kristen said softly. Without thought, her left hand came to rest on his forearm. “It’s all right, sir.”

Brodie had been on the verge of coming out of his chair, but he calmed down almost at once. Kristen hadn’t realized she’d touched him, and when she did, she withdrew her hand immediately.

“Admiral,” Jones insisted, “we need to make certain she doesn’t have anything else locked up inside that head of hers we could use to piece this together.”

“That’s all there is,” Beagler said, his eyes watching Brodie cautiously.

“How can you be certain?” Jones demanded.

“He told you already,” Beagler snapped as he looked at the civilian with annoyance, “she remembers everything. You read her file. You know!” he added angrily. “Total recall of everything she sees, hears, smells… absolutely every detail!”

Realizing they would get no more out of her, the review board dismissed Kristen. She exited the wardroom reeling. No other witnesses were called, and Kristen joined her fellow officers in the control room to wait to hear what the board of inquiry decided. Graves sat in his chair, and Kristen took a seat at one of the tactical displays. Several of her fellow officers had questions for her, but neither Graves nor Kristen could answer them. The hearing was classified, and they were each under orders to discuss none of it.

After another hour, the civilians and Admiral Malone departed the submarine. A few moments later, the officers saw Brodie as he walked with Admiral Beagler. Everyone was waiting to learn the “verdict,” although Kristen was no longer worried Brodie would lose the
Seawolf
. She’d seen the way Beagler had intervened to keep Brodie from going too far. Brodie’s value was clear to those who had the power to relieve him. He was the best they had, possibly the best they ever would, and although they might not want to admit it, they needed him at the helm of the
Seawolf
a little longer.

“Attention on deck,” Graves barked, and everyone snapped to their feet and came to attention as Rear Admiral Beagler appeared in the control room.

The admiral paused and looked in her direction. “Lieutenant Whitaker,” Beagler called to her.

“Yes, sir?” Kristen replied automatically.

Beagler then asked Brodie, “Might I borrow the lieutenant for a few moments, Captain?”

“Of course, Admiral,” Brodie agreed.

Beagler led Kristen aft. She fell into step behind him until they reached a passageway where they had some privacy. “How are you, Lieutenant?” he asked her, a bit of concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine, sir,” she lied, having no earthly idea how she was feeling. Her emotions were a jumble of confusing and competing thoughts which was unsettling to say the least. For years her emotions had been kept strictly in check. She’d never allowed confusion or disquietude into her perfectly ordered mind. In fact, she’d assumed she was immune to regular human emotions.

Until recently.

“I’m worried about you,” he told her bluntly. “Sean says you’ve been through a veritable hell the last few weeks.”

Kristen looked forward to the control room and then back at the Admiral. “Did the captain ask you to talk to me, sir?”

“No, of course not,” he said honestly. “I wanted to make certain you’re okay, and you haven’t had too much trouble from the crew.”

Kristen realized he was offering her a chance to get off the
Seawolf
. She just had to say the word, and he would quietly transfer her back to his staff. In fact, she didn’t even have to speak. If she allowed a few tears to fall, she would be packing her bags for sunny Hawaii and leave the
Seawolf
behind forever. But she shook her head. “No, Admiral, this is where I belong.” She then added, “And forgive me for saying so, but would you ask me this if I were a man?”

“No,” he admitted. “But the fact is you’re a woman, and this boat is filled with one hundred and forty men. The entire crew has been under incredible stress since leaving Bremerton. I just want to make certain you’re getting along okay.”

“Never better, Admiral,” Kristen answered without thought.

After the admiral departed to the sounds of bells and whistles, she returned to the control room and found an impromptu officer’s meeting already underway. Brodie was going around the control room and receiving status reports and repair needs from each department. Once these reports were complete, he addressed his assembled officers, “Gentlemen, I don’t know exactly what’s going on, and I’m not certain anyone else on our side does either. But I’m certain our problem is not with North Korea. I’m also reasonably certain trouble is coming, and wherever it starts it will be someplace where the National Command Authority isn’t expecting it, which means we can expect fresh sailing orders at any given moment.”

“Sir,” Ryan Walcott asked, “if North Korea isn’t where our problem is, then why have we dragged battle groups from the Pacific, the Persian Gulf, and the Indian Ocean to the Sea of Japan?”

According to message traffic they’d received recently, the National Command Authority, fearing a nuclear exchange on the Korean Peninsula, had redeployed three separate carrier battle groups from their normal patrol areas and ordered them, with all expedience, to the Sea of Japan.

“Answer that one and they’ll make you an admiral tomorrow, Ryan,” Brodie replied with a shake of his mane. “That’s why, although I want to run a regular liberty schedule and get everyone off the boat for some time ashore, we have to hit it hard and see to our repairs. Not to mention get the DDS off and, as soon as possible, remove those two TLAM-Ns from the torpedo room.” He shook his head, clearly not liking the two nukes being on board. “Those damn things are giving me ulcers.”

“Captain, what about the SEALs?” Graves asked.

“Our guests will be departing within the next few days,” he said simply. “Or so I’ve been told.”

Brodie looked around for any other questions. Everyone except for Kristen and the XO looked at him expectantly, assuming he would explain what had occurred over the last few hours in the wardroom. He unbuttoned his dress coat and loosened his tie, finally looking uncomfortable in the formal clothing. “Anything else?” he asked, offering no hint as to what occurred in the wardroom between himself and the review board. There were no more questions, and he departed, keeping whatever thoughts he had concerning the visit by the admirals and the civilians to himself.

Several of the junior officers shook their heads in disbelief after he departed. “Not so much as a word,” Terry whispered to Kristen. He’d conveniently stood next to her, as he always tried to do in such meetings. “He didn’t say a damn word about the meetings.”

“Perhaps we’re better off not knowing,” she told him and, without another word, returned to her cabin.

The Kremlin

S
moke from multiple cigarettes and cigars rose above the assemblage of Russian power players gathered around the long mahogany table forming a bluish cloud above their heads. On the table were several serving trays with alcohol and water. Almost all had chosen the former. The Russian President was seated at the head of the table. Flanking him along each side of the table was the rest of his Security Council. Although not part of the government according to the Constitution, the Security Council was truly where all decisions in the Russian Federation were made. As the head of the Council, the President’s thoughts held considerable influence, but he valued the opinions of the power ministers he’d selected for the Council.

“The American Navy has responded as predicted to the crisis on the Korean Peninsula,” the Minister of Defense explained. His name was Sergei Sokolov. At fifty-three he was one of the younger men present. Unlike most of the others, he’d chosen to drink only water, and the President trusted his council more than most. “Of their ten operational carrier battle groups, three are currently either in the Sea of Japan or in Japanese ports undergoing emergency repairs.”

“What about the other seven?” the Foreign Minister asked nervously. Everyone in the room was privy to the grand scheme, and the Foreign Minister was one of the more cautious of the group. Her name was Veronika Puchkov, and at sixty-two she’d been involved in foreign policy longer than anyone else at the table. But she was another trusted councilor who was willing to offer a difference of opinion the President often found refreshing. More importantly, her loyalty was unquestioned.

The Defense Minister explained, “One of their carriers is currently in dry dock at Newport News undergoing a lengthy refit and will not be available for service for at least another eighteen months. That leaves six. The
USS Theodore Roosevelt
is preparing to leave Norfolk with her escorts. We believe she is heading to the Persian Gulf to fill the gap left in their usual patrol areas after they redirected the
Nimitz
and
George Washington
battle groups in response to the crisis on the Korean Peninsula.”

“And how long will it take before they reach the Gulf?” Puchkov asked, knowing the presence of even one American carrier could ruin the carefully laid plans.

“If they left today,” the Defense Minister estimated, “they wouldn’t arrive for at least four weeks.”

“And the rest of their carriers?” the President asked, understanding that it was America’s fleet of nuclear aircraft carriers that allowed them to project military power. Neutralizing their carrier force was absolutely essential to success.

“They maintain five of their carriers on each coast,” the Defense Minister explained. “Normally one from each are forward deployed. The others are involved in either maintenance or training for the next deployment, so the fact they have surged three carriers to Japanese waters to face the crisis on the Korean Peninsula is a significant effort on their part. Two of these carriers are from their Pacific Fleet, leaving three still in port on their west coast. It is believed none of these could be ready for sea in less than three months.”

“And their carriers on the east coast?” The Foreign Minister inquired cautiously.

“The
Roosevelt’s
battle group is a potential threat to the operation, but if the Iranians move quickly, by the time the Americans arrive, it will be too late,” the Defense Minister assured her.

“And their amphibious groups?” The President inquired, knowing the Americans had a significant force of amphibious assault ships that could deploy—besides land forces—significant air assets to include strike aircraft and helicopters.

Once more, the Defense Minister answered confidently, “As with their strike carriers, the Americans have been forced to scrap their usual patrol pattern to respond to the Korean threat. The two amphibious ready groups they normally have at sea are now both in Japanese waters.”