Now! He widened his eyes at Bones and the two of them began a slow and careful ascent toward the ship’s metal underside, spinning slowly in a circle as they neared the spot where they would place a mine. Maddock slipped the heavy disc from his pouch — a ballistically inert training model — and waved it in front of Bone’s face, his message clear: I’ll place the mine.
The combat dolphins were back by the time Maddock was within arm’s reach of the metal structure. Very aggressive now, they darted in and nosed around Maddock’s and Bones’ midsections, seeking access to the scuba tanks. Maddock gripped his own magnetic disc tightly in his hand, waiting for an opening. He didn’t want a dolphin to nose it out of his grasp. When he saw both dolphins move to Bones’ side, teaming up on him, Maddock made his move.
He thrust an arm up until he felt the mine snap onto the hull with a satisfying clack. The LED on the explosive device turned from green to red and began to blink. Maddock knew that it was now transmitting a signal to the training officials that the mine had been triggered.
Although technically they had won the exercise, since a suicide bomber’s mission would be complete at this point, not caring if he were caught or killed, Maddock still wanted to reach the surface without being tagged at all, if possible. Extra points. He was glad to see Bones fall into formation by his side and together they awkwardly swam their way out from under the ship. The dolphins still followed them but seemed to have lost some of their fight, perhaps knowing the game had already been won.
Still together as a unit, Maddock and Bones surfaced next to the destroyer. They were still untagged as their heads broke the surface and the first thing Maddock heard was the dolphin trainer’s whistle. After a moment, the dorsal fins of their two adversaries were seen slicing the water in the direction of their holding pen on the floating docks.
Looking up at the destroyer, Maddock saw the excited faces of the sailors leaning over the rail, many of them clapping and cheering.
Maddock held his hands up and pantomimed an explosion.
“Gotcha!” he called up to the crew.
“Nice work!”
“Got lucky!” The calls came down.
As a small Zodiac inflatable boat neared Maddock and Bones for pickup, a gruff voice issued over the ship’s PA system.
“Maddock, Bonebrake: come on up to the Commander’s office. Now!”
Chapter 2
“The C.O. wants to see us?” Maddock asked the SEAL driving the inflatable boat as they motored to the destroyer’s boarding ladder. The boat operator nodded and gave him a serious look.
“Yes, sir. I brought your rucks so you have your clothes to change into aboard the ship.” He nodded to two backpacks on the floor of the boat.
“Thanks.” Maddock grabbed them and handed one to Bones, who addressed the boat driver.
“You know anything about why he wants to see us?”
A shake of the head as the driver eased back on the throttle while he approached the destroyer’s ladder. “No, sir. Whatever it is, it must be important, though. Succeeding in a training exercise, as impressive as that was, wouldn’t normally warrant this. Good luck,” he finished, sidling the boat up to the ship.
Once granted permission to board, Maddock and Bones climbed the ladder and stepped onto the deck of the warship. They were greeted by a sailor who asked them to accompany him. He moved off at a brisk pace and they followed him into an inside area where he stopped and opened a door.
“You can change in here. Just leave the wetsuits.” He glanced at his watch. Maddock and Bones stepped into the room and emerged a minute later in casual uniform; fatigues and navy blue T-shirts. The sailor led them down the hall until they emerged outside again but beneath the shadow of an overhanging deck. From there they entered a tall structure and began climbing tight, winding flights of stairs. One such ended in a small open area with doorways leading to several rooms. Their escort showed them to one of the doors and opened it for them, extending a hand inside.
“Commander Roberts will see you now.”
Maddock and Bones stepped into a small office where a thin, bald man sat behind a desk in full, starched white uniform. He was on a phone saying, “…so send her up…Yes, now!” and hung up as soon as he saw his two SEALS enter.
“Gentlemen, sit down. No time to waste.” Maddock and Bones took seats in the two chairs fronting the desk, a nameplate on it reading, Cmdr Stephen Roberts. The commander smiled at the two SEALs.
“Congratulations on blowing up my ship! You can bet this is the only time you’ll ever hear me say that.”
“Be sure and give the Flipper twins a sardine for me.”
The commander smirked at Bones’ joke and then grew serious. “Listen up. I’ve got a mission for you two. It’s highly classified. It’s deadly serious. It starts today. Are you ready to pay very close attention?”
Maddock and Bones nodded.
“Excellent. Here we go. Downstairs on the helipad is a Sikorsky waiting to take you to San Diego International Airport, where you’ll catch a commercial flight.” He pushed a pair of travel vouchers across the desk. Maddock opened his first and read the destination.
“Honolulu?”
“Hell, yes!” Bones pumped his fist and began to hula dance, his bulk making his chair squeak. Commander Roberts frowned in his direction and he froze. “Sorry.”
“I’m afraid you won’t be there long enough to enjoy Mai Tais on Waikiki Beach.” Roberts pushed another set of envelopes at them and continued while Maddock and Bones picked them up.
“From there you transfer to another commercial flight to Manila. But your destination is not the Philippines, either.” He slid one more set of papers to them.
“Use these last ones at the private air charter counter at Manila International. The pilot will drop you off on a small island in the equatorial South Pacific.”
The questioning gazes the commander was greeted with told him Maddock and Bones were ready for him to continue.
“What do you know about Amelia Earhart?”
Maddock frowned and Bones scratched his temple.
“That much?” the commander said after a few seconds of silence. “You’ll need to read these reports during your flight over.” He passed them each a folder full of documents before continuing. “By the time you reach the island, you should be well-versed in the generally accepted body of knowledge concerning Earhart’s final flight.”
“She went missing somewhere over the Pacific, in the 1930s on a flight to circumnavigate the globe, correct?” Maddock spoke before he picked up his folder.
“That’s right.” The commander appeared slightly surprised but quickly moved on. “To be more specific, however, we believe that she went missing at the island you’ll be visiting.” He held up a hand, forestalling Maddock’s exclamation of surprise. “There’s a chance of it, anyway. Let me explain.”
He unfolded a paper map on his desk and smoothed it over.
“So as you can see here,” he said, pointing to a spot on the map, “there’s a tremendous amount of open water. A private group calling themselves EARHART, appropriately enough — an acronym for Early Aviation Research and Historic Aircraft Recovery Team, although they are unaffiliated with the family — has recently announced that they may have found Amelia Earhart’s airplane off the coast of this island in scuba-accessible depths.” He stabbed the chart with the point of a pencil.
“Private group? So it’s not a military operation?” Bones asked, implying the obvious question. So what are we doing here?