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“The crew picked up more than enough signals today to generate their suspicions,” the admiral said. “We’re not sure where their OSCAR went or what he’s up to, but that changes things drastically for us.”

Murdock frowned. “How?”

“For one thing, we won’t thread our way through the line of islands between us and Kunashir. We’ll want to keep more maneuvering room in case we need it. That means we’ll go farther north and around the fifth island and this side of the sixth. Then we’ll still have maneuvering room, and our shield ships can maintain positions around the Monroe.”

Murdock nodded. “An OSCAR — that’s the Russians’ biggest, deadliest sub?”

“One of them, Commander. She has nuclear-tipped torpedoes. If just one of those hits our hull at any point, it would blow us out of the water and vaporize everything for a mile around. You see why we’re concerned.” The admiral was talking with men at the displays.

Later in Admiral Kenner’s quarters, he and a yeoman worked over a radio message to the commander of the Russian fleet.

The admiral had written down what he wanted to convey, and the yeoman put it into as polite terms as he could muster. When he finished writing, he read it to the admiral.

“To, Admiral Vladimir Rostow of the Russian fleet on board the Ataman, NP-400, aircraft carrier. Dear Admiral. I am Vice Admiral Nathan Kenner of the USS Monroe, CVN-8 1. Two of your aircraft just met with two of ours, and all four did a flyby on the Russian island of Kunashir. No offensive action was taken by anyone. It is our hope that you will allow the U.S. planes to monitor the island without the presence of Russian aircraft. We also hope that there will be no possible conflict between our two forces.

“We will keep planes over the island on a twenty-four-hour basis, and inform you directly of any activity by the Japanese now occupying your Russian territory.

“We will cooperate with you in every way we can to solve this problem without the use of any hostile action against the Japanese invaders of your island. We understand you have given them a seven-day departure deadline, now two days old.

“Please respond.”

Admiral Kenner listened to the words, made two small changes, and had the yeoman take it to the Communications Center, where it would be broadcast in Russian and English to be sure the Russians would hear it.

Admiral Kenner did not mention the Oscar-class submarine. He was delighted that his ASW men had spotted it, but he frowned in concern at the same time. Why was it shadowing his task force? Was it practicing to see how close it could come without detection? Or was it in the process of working out an attack plan that it would carry out in the near future, as a part of a general attack by Soviet forces in several parts of the world?

No, that was not logical. Russia did not have the capability to fight a global war. They were economically strapped. Their nuclear arsenal had been fractionated and mostly disbanded. Their Navy was in the best shape, but their Air Force was not in any condition to take on the U.S. No, the Oscar must be there for some other reason.

Admiral Kenner knew he could not take hostile action against the submarine if it were just following them. He could scare it and the crew by letting them know that the U.S. fleet knew of its presence, by dropping practice depth charges and firing dummy torpedoes at it to show that he could battle it mightily before it had a chance to attack.

Admiral Kenner peaked his fingers, and sat at his desk. He wondered how long he would have to wait before there was some response from the Russian admiral. Not long, he hoped. This was a nasty little job that had to be handled with diplomatic care. He was not a diplomat — everyone would tell you that. He wanted to get this matter closed up quickly so they could continue their journey past Hokkaido and down the Sea of Japan toward Korea and their real mission, which could involve military action. If anything happened with North Korea, he wanted to have the Monroe right in the middle of it.

His telephone rang.

“Yes?”

“Admiral, we have a response from the Russians.”

“Read it to me.”

“Yes, sir. It says: ‘ Kenner. I have received your message. It is totally unsatisfactory. The United States Navy has no business in this affair. This is between the Japanese general who invaded Russian soil and the Russian military forces.

“‘We ask that you remove your screen of ships from around the island, and that you keep your aircraft on your deck while Russian pilots assess the situation and provide the force needed to defeat the rebel Japanese. We give you one day, twenty-four hours, to remove your ships and to keep your aircraft out of Russian airspace.

“‘By order of Admiral Vladimir Rostow, Commander of the Russian Task Force Twelve.”

“That’s it, sir.”

Thank you. Send a copy to my cabin. Is the CAG there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Admiral, Captain Olson.”

“Irving, you heard the response. Is he bluffing?”

“Yes, sir, with his afterburner on. His two Migs were pussycats.

Waved at our guys, motioned for them to follow to do a buzz over the town, then waved good-bye.”

“Joys of command, Captain.”

“Admiral, I suggest we keep our air CAP over the town. How long is it going to take us on this fucking detour before we get our ships around the island?”

“No more than two hours. We’ll be in position by dusk. Our E-2C says the Russians are still more than six hours away.”

“Think they’ll come into the strait between the island and Hokkaido?” the CAG asked. “Not a chance. Would you want your task force bottled up in there?”

“It’s twenty-five miles wide.”

“That’s what I mean. No maneuvering room.”

The line was silent for a time.

“So, Admiral, any new orders?”

“No. Keep your planes up. Dawn to dusk should do it. We don’t need twenty-four-hour watch. Dawn tomorrow.”

“The Oscar?”

“Maybe yes, maybe no. He might be playing tag with us. I know some of our skippers do the same thing with the Russian fleet. So far we haven’t lost one, but we could. So could this Oscar take a final dive.”

“Aye, sir. Steady as she goes. I’ve got some work to do.

Anything else?”

“That’s all, Irv. Get to work.”

Admiral Kenner hung up the phone, and motioned to the yeoman that he should leave. He did. The admiral went to the couch in the corner of his quarters, took his shoes off, and stretched out. He wondered what had happened in North Korea. Nobody had sent him a word about it since this panic came down about the rebel Japanese general. He’d have to check on CNN. They would know what was going on as soon as the Pentagon did.

The damn OSCAR. What the hell was it doing harassing his fleet?

That would be the next thing he’d ask Admiral Rostow on the Russian carrier.

15

Tuesday, 20 February
USS Monroe, CVN 81
Off Hokkaido, Japan

That evening, after chow, Murdock got his men together in the training room. He looked around until he spotted Jaybird. “Sterling, did you bring that little laptop of yours along?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did I tell you not to bring it?”

“Not this time, Commander.”

“Get it, let’s plug it in and see what we can find on the Internet.”

“We playing war games, Commander?” Jaybird asked.

“In a way. I’m smelling non-lethal here, and I know that NAVSPECWAR back in Coronado must have a half-dozen things on the shelf.

Before I ask them for some of them, I need some nomenclature, some ideas, some names. Hope you have a good search engine.”