“Okay, thanks,” Agazzi said. He turned to Calvins. “Tell the Skipper we show no further indications of hostility from the contacts. We think they’re watching and waiting to see what we do, but we do believe that if we attack, they’ll retaliate.” Sweat ran down the young telephone talker’s face and Calvins’s tongue ran across his lips. Agazzi leaned under the safety rail, reached out, and touched him. “Stay calm,” he said quietly. “Just repeat what I told you.”
Calvins nodded, pressed the talk button, and relayed Agazzi’s words to his counterpart in Combat. Moments later, he told Agazzi the Captain sent his regards.
Agazzi watched the NTDS console as helicopters began laying sonobuoy patterns along the lines of bearings of each of the four contacts. Within ten minutes, Bernardo had inputted the near-precise locations of each of the four submarines. On the NTDS console, Agazzi watched the helicopters move toward those locations. In his mind, he knew each unarmed helo would lower his dipping sonar and keep track of the submarine, while the armed one would be ready for an immediate attack if the Skipper ordered. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He mentally crossed his fingers. If they had to drop the torpedo, it would take nearly a minute for the Mark-45 to hit the target. In combat, a minute was a very long time, and if the submarine was sitting there with the weapons officer’s finger on the launch button, even if they destroyed all four submarines, he would be surprised if most of them failed to launch some torpedoes.
Maybe he should retire after this trip. Then the thought of putting on those two stars of a master chief petty officer wove across his mind. Becoming one of the top one percent of the military services had been his goal for years. Sometimes, fate has other ideas.
“Okay, you two,” Showdernitzel said from about twenty feet away. “Lay below and take a head break, get yourselves a bottle of water, then get your asses back up here.”
Stonemeyer smiled. “Like a mother, I told you,” he whispered to Andrew.
Andrew grunted, his eyes narrowing. He would do God a good deed by taking this woman out along with Jacobs. What was he thinking? He took a deep breath and let it out, forcing himself to relax. He had one job assigned by his father. Kill Jacobs and the other man — Agazzi — was the first half of his mission. The second half was to return alive. But since he was a prophet, God might have other ideas for his mission.
“Capella is directly below you,” Showdernitzel said. “You got thirty minutes to make a head call and get your asses back up here. Potts and I will stand your watch, but others are waiting to take a break too.”
Stonemeyer smiled as the two pairs reached each other. He turned to Andrew. “I don’t need to go. I’m going to go over to the quarterdeck and tell Damon about you joining us tonight.” Andrew failed to catch the apprehension in Stonemeyer’s voice. He had no way of knowing the young sailor regretted inviting him to the Bible study group. Neither could he know that Stonemeyer wanted to warn the other members of what a bad mistake he might have made. Plus, Stonemeyer also wanted reassurance from a fellow worshipper that he had not made a mistake. He wanted someone to remove this apprehension wrapped around his acne-covered body.
Andrew nodded. “How do I get down to the Capella?” he asked, trying to keep his voice normal.
“Well, Petty Officer Jolson, you can go down that hatch over there as long as you seal it behind you.” Showdernitzel leaned close. “Or we could leave Potts up here and I can show you the way.”
His eyes widened in horror at the offer. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
She smiled, a gap from a missing tooth along the right side catching his attention. “I think I can find it,” he said firmly.
Showdernitzel laughed. “You don’t have much of a sense of humor, do you, Al?” She reached out and patted him twice on the shoulder, laughing for a moment before her face hardened. “Listen to me, Al. If you don’t relax, you’re going to have one lonely deployment. We’re all in this together. You don’t have to worry. I’m not going belowdecks with you to watch you pee.” She shook her head and glanced at his crotch. “Besides, not sure it would be worth the effort.”
He took a deep breath. All these shouts of blasphemy and damnation welled up inside of him, but he fought the urge, concentrating on his mission. He had been aboard Sea Base less than a half day, and already knew he could never survive out here away from God’s paradise for six months. All he had to do was survive for a month, until they reached Pearl Harbor. Then, he could disappear into the wilderness of West Virginia.
“Well? Are you going to the head or not?”
Stonemeyer started walking toward the quarterdeck. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Yes,” Andrew managed to gasp out.
“Then, go!” Showdernitzel said sharply. “And hurry your ass back.”
As he walked away, he heard her say to Potts, “What a dickhead.”
It took several seconds for him to figure out how to work the lever to go belowdecks. Once in the stairwell, closing the hatch was easy. A few minutes later, he was stepping onto the main deck of Capella.
He did have to go to the bathroom, but how do you find a bathroom on board a ship? He lifted his helmet and scratched his head before stepping off to the left, heading toward the safety lines. Might be a men’s room sign somewhere along the sides of the ship. Seeing nothing, he turned aft, heading toward the stern of the ship.
His only familiarity with ships had been the one gained from these hours on board Sea Base. He knew that behind the aft forecastle was a broad area where sailors gathered for their smokes and conversation. Where there is a crowd, there must be a nearby bathroom.
As he neared the covered passageway of the aft forecastle, another person stepped onto the main deck and followed. Andrew stepped onto the aft deck, wondering briefly what the large painted circle on the deck with an X in the center meant. There was no one there. He looked along the bulkhead, and only saw some hatches leading inside. Maybe the bathroom was behind one of these hatches. Andrew glanced at his watch. Ten minutes had passed. The madwoman had told him thirty minutes. If he needed more time, it was his right to take it. It was God’s right and God’s right was the same as his.
He swung the lever down and pulled open the nearest hatch. He stepped forward, the hatch blocking his vision to the right. But there was no passageway — no bathroom. The hatch opened into a storage compartment filled with lines, buckets, swabs, a couple of fire extinguishers mounted on the back bulkhead. There were some things he had never seen.
Andrew stepped back, grabbing the edge of the hatch, and shoving it shut. Hiding behind the open hatch was Taleb. Startled, Andrew stepped back. “What are you doing here?”
“I should ask you the same thing,” Taleb said. “Aren’t we at General Quarters?”
Andrew relaxed slightly. “I am on a break and looking for a bathroom.”
“A head we call it at sea.” Taleb cocked his head. “You don’t really know too much about the ships, do you, Al?” “First time…”
“First time for a third-class petty officer? A boatswain mate at that? Kind of hard to believe.”
“I’ve been in school.”
“School for a boatswain mate is the deck of a ship. They don’t really have a school, but then you know that, don’t you?” Andrew tightened up. He sensed danger. What was this man’s problem? He measured their difference, realizing he was taller and heavier than Taleb.
“I know why you’re here,” Taleb said. “I’ve known before you boarded that C-130. Not only have I known, but others know also. Did you actually think we would stand aside and let you come out here for whatever nefarious reason you may have?”