Sarah felt a touch on her arm. Commander Dunn pointed to two empty seats against the wall, away from the TV screen. Admiral Meisner had seated himself at the table in front of the chairs, and he nodded to the two of them as they made their way to be seated.
The admiral rolled his chair away from the table and leaned back as Sarah sat down.
“Are you up to this?” he whispered.
“Absolutely,” she said confidently.
“We’ll take care of the tactical side of things and any negotiations when they come up,” Meisner explained. “You and Commander Dunn will handle the investigative side of it.”
Sarah realized Bruce Dunn was listening to the conversation.
“By the way, have you two met?”
They both nodded.
“Your primary objective is to identify who is running the show inside. We want to know the man on top and everyone else on his crew,” Meisner continued. “Most of us in this room believe that only a present or a former U.S. sub driver could pull this type of maneuver. Also, you should know right up front that we’re not ruling out that some or maybe all of the ten crewmembers left on board Hartford are willing participants in the hijacking.”
The sudden rush of temper set Sarah’s ears on fire. She knew McCann, and so did they. She held back her comment, though. She knew she needed to come across as cool and objective or she would immediately be removed.
“Are you okay with this?” the admiral asked her directly.
Sarah’s past relationship with Darius was no secret to anyone that she worked with. “Of course, Admiral.”
Meisner turned his chair slightly. “And you, Commander Dunn?”
“We’ll see what evidence presents itself, sir,” he answered coolly.
The admiral nodded, satisfied. “We’ve set up a command center for the two of you three doors down. You’ll have a staff of six investigators, but you have clearance to use anything and anyone you want… CIA, FBI, Homeland Security, and any local or national law enforcement databases or personnel. We’re putting together your list of contact liaisons right now. We’ll make sure that you’re made aware of any or all communications that we might establish with Hartford.”
Sarah nodded.
“When do we start?” Dunn asked.
“Commander McCann’s records are to be reviewed before us in a couple of minutes. You’ll want to be present for that,” the admiral advised. “You’re dismissed right after that.”
“Why only McCann’s records?” Sarah asked.
Meisner frowned. “McCann is the most knowledgeable and powerful person aboard that submarine. We know that and we’re certain whoever is behind this operation knows that. He has the keys and the combinations that could result in a nuclear holocaust. You understand, don’t you, Lieutenant Connelly? ”
“Of course, sir. We’ll assess the records of the others aboard Hartford.”
Nothing more needed to be said by him, and Sarah didn’t miss the warning look sent by her superior. She was to stay objective.
The television was turned off. Sarah had no doubt that the press conference would not actually take place for quite some time, if at all.
Admiral Meisner called the meeting to order and made a quick introduction of the major players attending. He finished with Sarah and Commander Dunn. Looking up at the electronic map on the other side of the conference room, she realized that the submarine was now southwest of Fisher’s Island, but it had not yet made a change in its course to the east and the Atlantic. If it turned to the west, the sub would be bottled up in Long Island Sound. Not a good thing. It would be like having a tiger shark in a wading pool. A tiger shark with serious teeth.
A handout was passed around. Sarah received her copy and stared down at Darius’s military resume. Years of hard work jammed into a couple of paragraphs. The stamp at the bottom read “Under Investigation.” She stared at the two-by-three photo of him in his dress whites at the top of the page. Professional and serious, but definitely good looking. His piercing dark eyes and chiseled features made him the classic poster boy. Tough, but not unapproachable. Confident, but not arrogant. She knew for a fact that the navy had used this same picture of Darius in recruiting efforts over the past few years.
To calm her agitation, she reminded herself that this was only a briefing. As an attorney, she knew she could gather enough facts and figures to show that Darius could walk on water if it came down to it.
A navy lieutenant named Seth McDermott, who sat on the far side of the table from her, began reading McCann’s fact sheet aloud.
“Commander Darius McCann is 40 years old…today.” He paused for a second. “Commander McCann graduated magna cum laude from Notre Dame with a bachelor of science degree in Aerospace Engineering. Upon graduating, he attended Officer Candidate School in Newport, Rhode Island. Received commission September of 1989. Following commissioning, completed nuclear propulsion training in Orlando, Florida, and Idaho Falls, Idaho.”
An older admiral that Sarah remembered being introduced as Smith cut in. “Married? Children?”
“No, sir,” the lieutenant looked down at the sheet in his hand before answering. “Never married.”
“Steady girlfriend?” the admiral persisted.
Sarah focused on the sheet on her lap, feeling the gazes of several in the room fix on her.
“No, sir.”
“Let’s stick to the resume, Seth,” responded Admiral Gerry, the commander of Atlantic Fleet.
The older officer frowned at his sheet. “Go ahead,” he growled, “but it’s clear as day that this work is incomplete. I’m going to have some questions.”
“I’m sure you won’t be alone, Admiral,” Gerry replied. He nodded to the lieutenant, who continued.
“After completing Submarine Officer Basic Course, he completed three North Atlantic deployments before reporting to the naval postgraduate school in Monterey, California.”
A light tap on her arm drew Sarah’s attention to Dunn, who tilted a pad of paper toward her. She read his scribbling. Old goat… retired Rear Admiral Joseph Smith, assigned to the panel by President Hawkins this morning. She nodded. That explained why she didn’t know him.
Dunn scribbled something else on the paper. Sarah looked over.
Smith doesn’t like me much.
She gave a small nod and turned her attention back to the room.
“Graduated with distinction, earning a Masters of Science in Physics with a military professional subspecialty in Nuclear and Directed Energy Weapons. He was presented the Naval Sea Systems Command Award and the Superintendent’s Most Outstanding Thesis Award for his work on Nuclear Propulsion.”
“That’s impressive,” someone murmured. There were a number of other comments.
“After completing Submarine Officer Advanced Course, subject reported as Engineering Officer on USS Rhode Island, completing two deployments, including numerous surfacing in the packed ice and open water polynyas of the Arctic.”
Sarah remembered those blocks of time very well. That was when they’d first become romantically involved.
“Immediately following second deployment, served as assistant force nuclear power officer reporting to the Commander Submarine Force, U.S Atlantic Fleet.”
There was another tap on her arm. She looked over at Commander Dunn again. He had another note for her. Seth McDermott. Good guy. He’ll be working on our team.
She nodded and turned her attention back to Seth.
“During this assignment, instrumental in developing advanced submarine firefighting tactics, damage control equipment, and active ventilation procedures. Additionally, subject earned his Professional Engineering license in the Commonwealth of Virginia.”