Then everything was quiet. In less than two minutes, the flames had consumed themselves. Danny pushed the visor back on his helmet, and unbuttoned two buttons on his vest. He walked toward the ruins of the cottage, now a thick line of black and gray soot in the sand. The air was still hot, as if he was walking into a sauna.
“Looks like they had an underwater long-wave-communication system,” said Stoner from down the beach. “Most of it’s in pieces, but if that’s what it is, they’re very sophisticated.”
“You figure that’s what they were protecting?” Danny asked.
“I don’t know,” said Stoner. “Sure blew everything up in a hurry.”
“They must have realized we were coming when the Flighhawks came in,” said Danny. “Or they picked up the helos with their radars.”
Powder and Liu had moved up from the beach toward the cottage, and were now poking at the dust of its remains.
Powder scooped up something in his hand and started toward Danny.
“Hey, Captain, look at this… .”
Danny raised his head just in time to see a mine explode beneath his sergeant’s foot, blowing him in half.
Aboard Iowa, over the South China Sea
1800
Once the Chinese planes turned back, Dog pushed the Megafortress south, tracking ahead of the submarines to a point about seventy-five miles away from the carrier’s air screen. Dog began running a figure-eight at two thousand feet, then ducked lower to drop the transponder buoy. It settled under the waves and began transmitting perfectly from its wire net. Delaford made sure he had the probe on the new channel, then sank the first buoy.
We’re looking good,” said Delaford as Iowa climbed back up through five thousand feet. “Buoy is gone. We have our two contacts now at fifteen miles, still moving at thirty-one knots now. Interestingly, the two subs are sticking pretty close together,” he added.
“Why is that interesting?” said Rosen, listening in. Delaford gave a short lecture in submarine tactics. It began fairly basically—splitting up made it more difficult for the two submarines to be followed—and progressed into a discussion of the wolf packs used by the Germans during World War II. Delaford had a theory the two subs might be talking to each other somehow, though there was no indication of that from Piranha. He had interesting ideas on short-range acoustical and light-wave systems that sounded more like science fiction than doable technology, even to Dog. His chatter, though, helped relieve some of the boredom of the routine; Dog’s job now consisted primarily of lying the same figure-eight pattern again, and again, and again, holding a steady course while Piranha did its thing.
Meanwhile, the submarines continued on a beeline for the position of the Chinese carriers. The Iowa began plotting the next buoy drop, deciding how close they would get to the Chinese task force.
As Dog found the coordinates for the next launch, a communication came in from PacCom, restricted for Dog.
“What the hell is going on up there?” said Admiral Woods, flashing onto the small video screen in front of the pilot’s console. The computer automatically restricted the communication to his headset.
“We’re deployed Piranha and are tracking two Chinese submarines. I’m told they’re making good time—thirty-two knots.”
“The MiGs.”
“The F-8’s? They played cowboy and Indian for a while, then went home. We reported that.”
“Your orders were to steer clear of all Chinese aircraft.”
“Admiral, I think you’re being a little picky,” said Dog. “The fighters came out and met us. We took no action against them. What would you have me do?”
“I would have you follow orders.”
“With all due respect, sir,” said Dog, who felt anything but respect was due, “I think you’re just looking for things to criticize. I can’t seem to tie my shoes without you objecting.”
“My people don’t talk that way to me, Colonel.”
“Maybe they should.”
“You want to go toe-to-toe with me, fine.”
“Admiral, really. What’s the problem here?”
“You’re used to running the show, Tecumseh. I understand, but you’re under my command now.”
Dog stared at the screen. Woods stared back.
“Well?” said the admiral finally.
“I was following my orders as best as I knew how. That’s all I can say.”
“I’m sending a patrol plane to help track those submarines,” answered Woods.
“I don’t see that as necessary, Admiral. We’re tracking sufficiently.”
The line snapped clear before Dog could finish.
An atoll in the South China Sea
1800
Danny’s brain split in half, one playing an endless track of sorrow, the other stepping back calmly, decisively, peering at the scene from above. The second half realized—belatedly—the area near the cottage had been thickly laid with mines and booby traps.