"Ok, but why CIA, and what is so important about a bomb? asked Commander Evans.
"Before we start, I have something equally important" said Greg "I get really sea sick, can you give me something."
Bob Evans chuckled and walked over to his desk and pulled out a small bottle of pills and tossed them to Greg "These will fix you. Don’t worry, you will be fine." Greg grabbed a couple and popped them in his mouth.
"Let’s get back to business" said Matt "this is all Top Secret you can’t breathe a word of this to another soul. It’s CIA because we have been tracking this terrorist all the way from Saudi Arabia. What is so important is that we believe he has gained access to a special weapon."
"What sort of special weapon are we looking for, biological, chemical, gas or what?"
"You wouldn’t believe us if we told you" mentioned Natasha.
"Try me" announced the coast guard man.
"It’s a nuke."
"No way" said Commander Evans.
"No fuckin’ way" said Detective O’Brien.
"Way" explained Matt somberly.
Greg grabbed Matt by the sleeve "I want a word with you in private."
"Excuse us a few moments Commander" said Matt as he and Greg O’Brien went outside the cabin and closed the door.
"Look you never told me about a nuke, I have a wife and kids. I want out" explained Greg.
" I wasn’t able to share that before. Now that you know, I can’t let you leave. This is Top Secret."
"Your secret is safe with me."
"Look, if this bomb happens to detonate, you are already too close to get away. You are in the fallout zone, so you may as well help us find Pashwari. If it’s a wild goose chase, at least you will find out if the pills work. Who knows, you might just become a sailor."
"Great! What a choice, seasick or toast. Let me think that one out for a moment!"
"Come on Greg, let’s go find this bastard. Are you in?"
"I can’t believe I am doing this" announced Greg as he opened the cabin door and they rejoined the others.
"Let’s get moving. Where do we start?" asked Bob.
"We think the Golden Gate is the actual target, and that the weapon is actually stowed on a small sailboat. We have a time frame of 4pm today. What do you suggest Commander?"
"In that case we should begin at the bridge and start to clear all craft away. We can start searching boats if we know what to look for."
"We have organized to get a hi-tech navy chopper up here from San Diego. It has specialized scanning equipment. They should be able to pick up alpha radiation waves emitted from the weapon. They should be here any minute. Their call sign is Tango Three" explained Natasha.
The commander picked up a radio microphone "Tango Three this is Coast Guard cutter Invicta."
A few seconds later came the reply deep in background noise "Invicta this is Tango Three. We will be on station in twenty eight minutes. We have just picked up fuel and will have endurance for five hours of operations."
The commander looked at his watch.
"Roger Tango Three, five hours will be fine. Begin to scan all vessels as soon as you arrive on station. Report anything that looks suspicious. Start at the bridge and fan out both sides."
"Will do. Tango Three out."
"Bob, can you co-ordinate the movement of the other coastguard vessels from here?" asked Natasha with an idea.
"Of course, what do you need?"
"I saw something at CIA headquarters. They had lots of video feeds all projected on the same computer screen. Could you get all the coast guard ships to each send us a video feed? They could relay the signals back to us and we could take a look at every boat they pass. Maybe we can pickup something. Don’t forget Greg has seen this guy."
"I love it Natasha, great plan. Let me setup your laptop to receive the feeds" said Matt excitedly.
Ten minutes later Matt had Natasha were setup at a workstation below deck. Matt had Natasha’s notebook computer connected via his satellite modem and was receiving the feeds from the six coast guard boats and was displaying them together on a patchwork screen in real time. The videos were also being saved to disk. Natasha was able to zoom in on anything she wanted to see with the click of the mouse.
"Give me a shout if you see anything that might help." Matt went back onto the bridge with Commander Evans and Detective O’Brien.
Suddenly the engines started and Greg started to look a strange shade of green. Before they even left dockside he was violently ill over the side.
He grabbed the bottle of pills and swallowed three more.
Chapter 117
Kamal had problems on board the Surprise. The crack in the hull was continuing to admit water. The electric bilge pump had burned out from over work. Kamal had to stop every half hour or so and spend a couple of minutes pumping the handle to get the water out with the manual pump. A sinking vessel would attract attention, and that was the last thing he wanted.
Kamal had his cell phone connected to the charger to ensure it was always fully charged. The cell phone rang. There were only two people who knew this number.
"Hello this is Greg." This was the code for everything is ok to talk, G for good. If there was a problem, he would have announced himself as Ben, B for bad.
"He will be on the bridge at exactly 4pm."
This was music to Kamal’s ears. The information was worth more than the million dollars he had paid for it. The Boston Brotherhood had done it yet again.
He had plenty of time. He was at the other end of the harbor, but a leisurely sail would put him in place at exactly the time the President’s motorcade came across the bridge headed for the meeting in Marin County.
It was a sunny Sunday afternoon and the water was littered with sailing boats just like Surprise. Kamal had researched this extremely well. His sail had a logo for the San Francisco Yacht Club emblazoned and the sail number 79 that he had dreamed up.
The cell phone chirped again. "Hello old friend" said Kamal’s old partner in crime Roy.
"I have the thing you wanted, it took a lot of finding after all these years. Turn around and wave, I am right behind you!"
Kamal turned around and there was a small motor boat with Roy at the wheel. He increased speed and came alongside Surprise. When he was just a few yards away, Roy tossed a small cardboard box to Kamal. No sooner had the box been tossed than Roy sped away. As Kamal was reverently placing the box on the binnacle beside the compass, he noticed a letter taped to the box. He opened it quickly and scanned the short handwritten note.
"Kamal, I know you have been out of contact for quite some time, so it is my sad duty to inform you that our beloved Sheikh has been killed by U.S. forces at his compound in Abbottabad Pakistan. He died bravely, having killed many soldiers in the battle."
Stunned at the loss of his mentor, and with a tear in his eye, Kamal crumpled the page into his fist and angrily threw it overboard, he knew he must steady himself for the task at hand.
Kamal returned to the wheel. He was wearing a captain’s hat and had a day’s stubble on his face, just right for a yachtsman. In his hair was some talcum powder he had rubbed in to make him look a little older and less threatening. In his pocket was a fake U.S. passport in case anyone asked to see it, and he would use his best Bostonian accent if needed.