“We sure would!” Grant responded, running a hand over beard stubble.
“You all probably know your way around a carrier like the back of your hands, but go ahead and follow Ensign Adams.” Gregson pointed to the young ensign. “Once you’re through, Admiral Larrimore and I would like you to join us in the Wardroom for a meal.”
Grant slung the strap of his rucksack over his shoulder. “We’d like that, sirs.”
As the Team walked away, Grant came back to Gregson. “Captain, is it possible to have someone assigned to watch Kwan? I’d hate to have him get lost.” That was Grant’s way of saying he didn’t want Kwan wandering around, no matter he was CIA.
“Sure. Sure. I’ll see to it. Oh, by the way, a Greyhound is scheduled to arrive at zero eight hundred. That’ll be your ride to Atsugi.”
“All right, sir. Thanks,” Grant nodded. “What about Lieutenant Becket and Petty Officer Kidd? Are they supposed to ride with us?”
Gregson shook his head. “We’re sending them to Coronado on a Prowler (an AE-6B, four-seater). They’re scheduled to leave at first light.”
“Glad to hear that. They need to get back to the Teams. Appreciate your help through all this, sir.” Then, he turned and caught up to his men.
Gregson and Larrimore followed at a distance, with Larrimore saying, “There goes one group of tired men, Nat. They’ve just about been beaten down to parade rest.”
Drinking a cold glass of milk, and finishing his second Snickers bar, Grant sat quietly, waiting for a secure call from Scott Mullins. A shower, shave, and some chow was all it took to make him feel human again. Sleep would top it off.
“Skipper! It’s me,” Adler called from the passageway.
“Come on in, Joe.”
Adler walked in. Dangling between two fingers was a bottle of root beer, with two hamburgers in his palm, wrapped in napkins. One burger was already half eaten.
Grant was always amazed with the amount of food Adler could pack away. “Wardroom food wasn’t enough?”
“Hey! This is just an after dinner snack,” Adler answered, as he closed the door. He pulled a chair away from the wall, then sat down.
“Are you happy now?” Grant asked as he crumbled the candy wrapper then gave it a basketball-type toss into a trash can.
Licking ketchup and mustard from the corners of his mouth, and after taking a swig of root beer, Adler breathed a heavy sigh. “The perfect ending to an almost perfect mission!” He unwrapped the second burger.
Grant just finished swallowing a mouthful of milk, when the signal alerted him. He lifted the headset hanging around his neck, then adjusted both earphones. “Scott?!”
“Jesus, Grant! Where the hell’ve you been?”
“I hope you’re joking!” Grant responded with a slight laugh.
“Oh, shit! You know what I mean. Is everybody okay?”
“We’re good. Tired as hell, but okay. And before you ask, everyone’s safely on board.”
“Thank God. Look, Grant, I know you’ve got a lot to tell me, but… ”
“I know. Right now you just want a ‘speeded up’ version, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Wait! We had radio transmissions with the Coral Sea. Hasn’t any of it filtered down to you yet?”
“No.”
“Not good, Scott. But the past few hours happened so fast, that might explain why.”
“Maybe.”
Grant told Mullins everything about the rescue right up to the part about finding the plutonium and the five men from Taiwan. “Scott, I’ve got classified info that Langley needs to be made aware of, and post haste.”
“I take it you’re not sure whether to tell me or whether you want to speak directly to Langley.”
“No. No. You know I trust you, but you have to be certain you talk to the right person, and I’m not sure who that is.”
Mullins scooted to the edge of his swivel chair, propping his elbows on the desk. “Tell me, then we’ll both make that determination.”
“The first issue is that Kwan is with us.”
“Uh-oh.”
“We couldn’t leave him behind, Scott. It would have been a death sentence in my opinion. And, yes, before you say anything, I take full responsibility for getting him involved.”
“I won’t say a word,” Mullins smiled to himself. “Just continue.”
“One of the Taiwanese men is Chi-ming Lai. I’m guessing here, but my impression is he might be a scientist, or at least someone who had knowledge of plutonium. I doubt he had any experience in covert or terrorists ops. I thought he was going to shit his pants from the minute we busted into that house.
“The other one is An-Jie Lin. Now that guy’s a whole different ballgame. I’m pretty certain that’s just his cover name, though. He’s either a CIA operative or someone who worked at the Embassy in Taipei, maybe in the Comm room. That would have given him access to transmissions passing between Langley and Kwan. I tried to bluff him with how much I knew, but couldn’t get anything out of him. What I do know is that he and his compatriots are pissed.”
“You mean about the U.S. siding with Beijing?”
“Affirmative.” Grant continued with Lin’s plan to use the explosives and release plutonium into the air over Shanghai.
“Jesus, Grant! And you think they were going to leave the SEALs within range of that?”
“Not a doubt in my military mind. And possibly set the bombs as close to the Consulate as they could get. We observed two of them snooping around the building, then one climbed up to the roof. I’m convinced he was looking for a place where the bomb or bombs would have had the most impact.”
“Are you saying there weren’t any guards around the Consulate?!” Mullins scribbled a quick note.
“Confirmed there was at least one person inside, but didn’t have time to verify if there were more,” Grant answered, shaking his head slowly. “Kwan said the interior hadn’t been finished. Whether that means there wasn’t any ‘equipment’ installed, I can’t say. Maybe that’s why there was a lack of more security.”
“I’ll pass this up to the director and let him take it from there. Anything else?”
Grant filled Mullins in on the gunboats and the outcome of the plutonium. When he finished he said, “Think that’s all I’ve got for you. Except Captain Gregson said a Greyhound’s coming for us from Japan at zero eight hundred.”
“That plane’s been on standby since you left Virginia.”
“But how did…?”
“I can only assume that after the President heard from Captain Gregson that you were safe, he had somebody in the chain of command make the final arrangements. As an FYI, Grant. The Vice President’s trip has been put on hold.”
“Guess it was in everyone’s best interest.” He looked across at Adler, who was rocking back and forth on the metal chair, with his fingers intertwined behind his head. From his facial expression, it was obvious he was curious. Or maybe he was still hungry.
“Guess we’ll be responsible for bringing everybody home, right?” Grant asked.
“Think you can handle it? That’s a long way to travel.”
“Piece of cake!”
“Right!” Mullins laughed. “I’ll talk with you when you get to Atsugi. In the meantime, I’ll see if I can fill in any of the blanks.”
Chapter 22
The C-2 Greyhound’s wheels touched down at Atsugi, completing the thousand mile trip on schedule, without incident. Directed to a hangar, the aircraft rolled along the runway, turning starboard as it approached the hangar, parking within twenty yards of the Gulfstream.
Standing at the bottom of the fold-down steps of his aircraft, Matt Garrett finished a last mouthful of coffee. He crushed the paper cup, tossed it into the plane, then starting walking to the C-2.