Grant removed his cap and tucked it under his left arm. He nodded toward the other officers before approaching Conklin. "If you've got time, I'd like to discuss the upcoming op with you and the admiral. Is he in his sea cabin?"
"He is. Follow me." Conklin looked toward OOD Braebern. "You've got the bridge, Lieutenant."
"Aye, sir."
Another voice announced, "Captain's off the bridge."
A first class petty officer security guard (master at arms) stood outside Torrinson's sea cabin. "Sirs."
Torrinson was sitting behind his desk, when there was a knock at his door. "Come."
The guard opened the door, allowing Grant and Conklin to enter the room. He immediately closed the door.
"Jim, Grant," Torrinson said as he stood then came from behind the desk.
Grant took the papers from his waistband. "Admiral, this is the latest info I received from my contact."
"Let's take a look." Torrinson motioned toward the table. "Am I to assume you and your men have come up with some kind of plan?"
"Yes, sir. I'll meet with them when we're through here, and then finalize. Joe and I already met with the chopper crew, so they've got an idea on where we're going." He spread out the sat images. "I'm hoping my contact can get me a few more answers before departure, but we should be ready to leave somewhere around 2200." He looked toward Conklin. "Will there be a problem with that timeframe?"
"Negative. Sounds okay," Conklin answered. "I'm planning resumption of flight ops at 2400, as long as the weather holds."
"Let's hope it does. We need to move out soon. I hate to give those bastards any more time than they've already had. But I guess if we can't fly out, that Huey will be socked in too." Grant gave Torrinson a sly look. "You wouldn't happen to have a sub hiding nearby, would you, sir?"
"There's one … but you can't have it," Torrinson laughed.
"Can't blame a guy for trying."
As the three men were about to sit, there was a loud, sharp rapping at the door, startling everyone. Torrinson responded, "Come!"
As soon as it opened, OOD Braebern came in, announcing, "Excuse me, Admiral, but the captain's needed on the bridge asap, sir!"
Chapter 19
Conklin rushed from the cabin, hurrying toward the bridge. A security guard quickly closed the door, then posted himself directly in front of it.
Grant and Torrinson waited. They finally heard Conklin's voice over the 1MC: "Security Alert! Security Alert! Away the Security Alert team! Away the Back-up Alert force! All hands not involved in Security Alert stand fast!"
Throughout the ship, security guards ran to their assigned posts, with hands on holstered weapons, shouting as they ran, "Make a hole! Make a hole!" Crew immediately backed out of the way, giving the men plenty of space. They all obeyed the command to stand fast. Faces showed concern. Mumblings were heard, questioning the alert. If the carrier was being threatened, and was in imminent danger, General Quarters would've been sounded, one of the most dreaded sounds aboard any ship. Everyone would've been running to assigned battle stations.
Usually every security alert over the 1MC gave a reason for the alert — but not this time, making the alert that more mysterious.
The crew waited to hear an explanation over the 1MC. And finally, 20 minutes later, after discussions with his officers on the bridge: "This is the Captain. There's been a serious incident on board, but the ship is not in danger. For the time being all I can tell you is the situation is under control. I repeat … the situation is under control. I realize there will be talk and speculation, but I will give you full details as soon as possible. Return to your duties. Security team and those crewmen in crew's quarters, stand fast. All other security forces can stand down." Conklin hung up the 1MC, then turned to the OOD. "I'm going to report to the admiral. You've got the bridge."
With arms folded across his chest, Torrinson paced back and forth in front of his desk. Grant stood nearby. "Don't have a good feeling, sir," Grant said, as the two men waited.
"I know, Grant." A knock at the door. Torrinson responded, "Come!"
Conklin entered with Torrinson immediately asking, "What the hell happened, Jim?!"
"Agent Edmunds reported an incident, sir. I only had a brief discussion with him, but it had to do with Seaman Garcia." Conklin looked at Grant.
"Oh, Jesus! I talked with Sid before coming here. He was gonna follow Garcia. Is he all right?!"
"He had a near miss, but he's okay."
"Go on, Jim," Torrinson said, as he pulled a chair away from the table then sat down.
"Agent Edmunds did follow Garcia to crew's quarters as he planned. Apparently, Seaman Garcia was acting suspiciously. Again, I don't have details, but when Agent Edmunds confronted him, and asked to inspect his lockers, Garcia pulled a gun."
"Holy shit!" Grant said under his breath.
"I can't answer how he got it or where it was hidden. Those are questions for Agent Edmunds."
Torrinson quietly asked, "Anyone injured?!"
"Two crewmen before Edmunds got off a shot, sir. Garcia died on the way to sickbay."
"Will the two men be okay?"
"They'll be in sickbay for a few days. They were very lucky, sir."
The sound of Torrinson's voice expressed obvious relief. "We were lucky again, but does anyone believe we have to worry about another incident like this? Could there be another sympathizer on board?"
"Guess we'll have to wait for Sid's report, Admiral," Grant replied, "but he didn't give me that impression." Grant relayed his conversation with Edmunds, ending with, "I don't know how many more individuals he had to interview after Garcia, but I'd say Garcia's actions pretty much sealed his guilt." He pounded his palm with a fist. "Dammit! Now we won't get any answers!"
A moment of silence, as the three men worried. Torrinson rolled his chair closer to the table. "Have a seat, gentlemen."
Conklin pulled out a chair, but Grant remained standing. "Thanks, sir, but too much pent up energy and frustration right now." He shook his head, and said through clenched teeth, "We've gotta put a stop to this."
"Okay, Grant, talk to us," Torrinson said.
Walking slowly toward the two officers, Grant questioned Conklin. "Captain, do you have any additional information on Garcia, especially anything that could help with our op?"
"Negative. All I can tell you is that he'd been on the Preston for almost two years. I was informed that he was a good sailor, and performed his duties without question."
"Apparently, he performed those duties for more than just this ship," Grant commented with sarcasm.
"It would appear so," Conklin replied. "As a side note, and as you are probably aware, since he wasn't a U.S. citizen, he wasn't allowed to have any type of secret clearance, but he should've gone through a standard background check. I don't know how the hell he slipped through the cracks."
Torrinson rested his arms on the table. "Why the hell would he go off the 'deep end' that way, when the PNA, as we suspect, had already found a way to attack our men?"
While rubbing the back of his neck, Grant responded, "Well, sir, I'm not sure how fanatical that group is, but those could've been his orders."
"You mean, when cornered, don't be taken alive?" Conklin asked. Grant merely nodded.
"Jim, I guess Sid will be calling NIS soon. Did he say when you'll have his report?" Torrinson inquired.
"Within a couple of hours."
"I'll wait for that report before I contact Vice Admiral Gamble. Is there anything else we need to discuss about this?"
"That's all I have for now," Conklin answered.
"Do you have time to listen to Grant's plan, or do you need to return to the bridge?"