"Ha!" Bainbridge said curtly. "If that's true, why hasn't there been an official announcement from Tehran? Why haven't we heard from Yuduki Maru's captain? Hell, they could have let the Maru go its way and taken the bad guys back to Tehran for a big show trial. No, this feels like Iran might be trying to play both sides in this. They're buying time until they can get their real plan, whatever it is, in place."
"So where does that leave us?" Mason wanted to know.
"It looks," Hadley said, a grin slowly spreading across his face, "as though Captain Coburn's people are going to get another shot."
"All right!" Captain Coburn said delightedly, smacking fist into palm. "The Yuduki Maru again?"
Bainbridge scowled. "I thought you said the President was ordering us to let the Iranians take the freighter into port."
"He did," Hadley said. "And we're not going after the plutonium ship. Not yet anyway. At least not until we can clarify the exact political situation. And to do that, we're going to need to take a closer look at the Beluga."
2230 hours (Zulu +3 hours)
Tactical Officer's Briefing Room, U.S.S. Nassau
Indian Ocean, southwest of Masirah
"Wait a minute," Murdock said. "Let me get this straight. They're letting the bastards pass?"
Lieutenant Commander Robert Fowler, Intelligence Officer aboard the LHA Nassau, fixed Murdock with an icy stare. "Yes, Lieutenant. That is exactly what they're doing. The order was relayed down the chain of command from the President himself."
"Ah!" Roselli said from the other side of the room. "That explains it then."
"Belay that," Murdock snapped.
The current U.S. President was not popular with most military personnel, partly because of various unpopular social changes he'd made in the armed forces since his inauguration, but partly too because of his erratic course in charting American foreign policy. Nonetheless, he was the Commander-in-Chief. and American military personnel were expected to keep their political convictions to themselves. High-ranking military officers had been broken for careless criticism of the President and his Administration.
More than that, though, the country simply could not afford to have a military that involved itself in politics. That path led to military dictatorship, as had been proven time and time again elsewhere throughout the world. "Sorry, sir," Roselli said.
"If I might be allowed to continue," Fowler went on, "the Iranian squadron is continuing on course toward the Straits of Hormuz, with the Yuduki Maru in tow. We now believe that they will escort the Japanese ship to their naval base at Bandar Abbas. The President has ordered that they be allowed to pass without interference."
"Fuck that," MacKenzie said, the vulgarity shockingly loud in the silence following the intelligence officer's words. Fowler and the SEALs in the compartment all turned and looked at him. "Ah, 'scuse me, sir," the chief added. "But that's just plain damned screwy! Those bastards get into Bandar Abbas, and it's gonna take nothing less than a Marine invasion to winkle them out!"
"That may be," Fowler said coldly. "Do you really want to be the one setting our foreign policy out here, Chief?"
"Uh, no, sir."
"Good. Then I suggest you keep your mouth shut and listen, or you'll find yourself bounced back to the States to sit this one out!"
"Hold on there, Commander," Murdock said suddenly, rising.
Fowler looked at Murdock, eyebrows rising. "Huh? What is it now, Lieutenant?"
"Might I have a word with the Commander, sir? In private."
"Lieutenant, this is hardly the time..."
"These are my men, sir. And my responsibility. I respectfully suggest that if you have something to say to any of them involving order or discipline, you say it through me."
Fowler locked eyes with Murdock for a beat. "You're out of line, Lieutenant."
"No, sir. I don't think I am. Would you care to discuss the matter in private?"
Fowler stared at him for another moment, then took a deep breath and shook his head. "I really don't have time to discuss this matter, Lieutenant. Time is short and I have other briefings to deliver." He turned his gaze on MacKenzie. "Chief, if I was too harsh a moment ago, forgive me. The past few watches have been long ones."
MacKenzie grinned. "No problem, sir."
"Good. As I was trying to explain, the political situation over here is highly unstable. If we launch an outright attack on the Iranian squadron now, while they're claiming to be on an international rescue mission, well, it won't matter much whether they're hijacking that plutonium or not. The United States will be condemned all over the world... for interfering with that rescue, for putting our own prestige ahead of the lives of people in that region, for endangering the coastlines of countries from Saudi Arabia to South Africa if the Yuduki Maru is sunk, for acting like an out-of-control gunslinger when negotiation might have resolved the situation peaceably. The list goes on and on. Whatever you might think about his foreign policy statements lately, the President doesn't really have any other choice on this one. The draft for a formal resolution has been placed before the United Nations, but until we know for sure what's happening over there, our hands are pretty well tied."
Murdock raised his hand.
"What is it, Lieutenant?"
"Damn it, sir, we were aboard the plutonium ship. We brought back a freed hostage and a prisoner. What more do we need?"
"Frankly, Lieutenant Murdock, we need a clear picture of what the Iranians are thinking right now. Were the Iranians your people encountered aboard the Maru a revolutionary faction allied with Japanese terrorists? Or were they some kind of special action group working with the knowledge and approval of the mullahs in Tehran? We don't know, and until we do, our hands are tied.
"What we really need now, Washington feels, is a close look at what's going on aboard that Greenpeace yacht, the Beluga. If Kohler and the others aboard the yacht are telling the truth, then the Iranians have done our job for us, taking the Yuduki Maru back from the terrorists who hijacked her."
"With respect, sir," Roselli said, "that's a load of crap."
"That may be, Chief," Fowler said. "Personally, and speaking strictly off the record, I have to agree with you."
The man appeared to have resigned himself to comments from his audience. He was not, Murdock thought, used to briefing SEALS, as nonconformist and as non-elitist a bunch Murdock had ever known.
"However," Fowler continued, "the Joint Chiefs have ordered a new mission, an intelligence-gathering operation this time. They want you guys to go aboard the Beluga and find out just what's going down. The operation will be code-named Prairie Watch. If Kohler and the others are not hostages, you are to ascertain that fact and leave, hopefully without upsetting the diplomatic apple cart. If, as seems more likely from what we know now, the Iranians are holding Kohler and his guests prisoner, you'll proceed with a hostage rescue scenario."
"Yeah!" Magic Brown said. "That's more like it!"
The other men of Third Platoon sounded excited at the prospect of getting another shot. Murdock wasn't sure that he liked the sound of this mission, though. "What do we know about the target, sir?" he asked. "We don't have models or..."
"The Beluga was built by Luxuschiff, a luxury yacht manufacturer headquartered in Hamburg," Fowler said. "Detailed deck plans, including any modifications Kohler may have had made at the Hamburg boatyards, are being transmitted to us via satellite. You should have them within the hour."
Murdock glanced at his watch. It was nearly 2300 hours. "And when do you need our plans?"
For the first time that evening, Fowler smiled. "Lieutenant, I'm afraid I'll need a copy by zero-nine-hundred hours tomorrow. I know that's stretching things tight..."