“Standing before you this morning and informing you that we are facing such a threat is not a pleasant duty. Nonetheless, with the clear and decisive plan of action that I have just laid out, we will move forward to meet this threat head-on.”
Hawkins spoke fiercely into the camera. “You who are right now listening aboard the USS Hartford, you who have chosen to bring your evil to our door, you will soon feel the full weight of American might. Surrender now, or prepare to pay fully for your actions.”
Hawkins took a breath and then spoke again in a civil voice.
“My fellow Americans, over the past four years I have worked tirelessly to make America strong and respected in the world. As your president, I come before you this morning prepared to fulfill my sworn duty now, as well. America has faced down its enemies before, and we will do it again this time. No one can stop us from moving forward in our defense of freedom and all that is good and just in our world.”
He nodded, without smiling.
“Thank you. And God bless America.”
The cameras stopped. The president sat back as one of the production assistants rushed over to disconnect the microphone from his tie. An aide handed him another scalding cup of black coffee.
Hawkins’ chief of staff stepped over to tell him that Rear Admiral Joseph Smith was on the line for him from the Pentagon.
The president answered the phone on his desk. “What do you have, Joe?”
“They’re talking. We have an official demand from Hartford.”
Chapter 22
There was no safe hiding place where he could leave her on the submarine. Right now, the key to their survival was to keep moving. After Rivera and the other man who’d been working with him in the torpedo room ran past the crew’s quarters, McCann realized that Amy should indeed stay with him.
The two men were undoubtedly heading for the ship’s office, and McCann momentarily considered trying to surprise the two from behind, but then decided against it. He couldn’t risk a shootout with Amy on his heels. Not with the possibility of other hijackers coming to help. They’d be caught in a cross fire with nowhere to hide.
Now, however, they had to keep moving.
“They might be trying to fix the wiring I cut up there,” Amy whispered when he motioned for her to climb out of the bunk.
She looked wild-eyed and a little frightened. But she was holding up surprisingly well.
“We can’t worry about that now.” He looked her over. She had taken off her vest back in the ship’s office. The sleeves of her green flannel shirt were rolled up. He looked down at her steel-toed boots. “You’ve got to change those. They’ll be too noisy.”
“Change into what?”
“Check in the lockers, quietly. You might find a pair of sneakers that fit. If not, go barefoot.”
As she went searching the lockers, McCann looked out again. All was quiet in the passageway. He considered the officer’s wardroom. In it, one of the ship’s Multi-Function Display terminals was mounted on the outboard bulkhead. The unit, which was tied into the BSY-1 combat system, showed current data on position, course, speed, heading, and depth of Hartford. The device also had different modes, including a new closed loop video hookup that showed views of strategically important spots throughout the ship. The purpose of the MFD system was for the officers to know the boat’s status even when they were away from the control room. He had an identical MFD unit in his cabin.
He could use that now.
Though it was impossible, McCann would have liked to get up to his cabin. His safe contained classified documents that should be destroyed, but also additional weapons. Even taking up a position in the officer’s wardroom was indefensible. He’d be in worse shape there than they were in the ship’s office.
There were a total of eight MFDs around the ship. He needed to access one of them, but it had to be one that was in a less obvious place. At the same time, they had to be really careful not to be caught on one of the small surveillance cameras providing images into the system.
“A size too big, but I think they’ll do.”
She was holding a pair of soft-soled sneakers. He saw her sit down on the edge of a bunk and pull off her work boots.
Seconds later, two others came along the passageway, also going forward toward the ship’s office. Hearing them come past, McCann waited behind the door, weapon drawn, ready to kill whoever poked their head in.
As the hijackers continued along, he turned to Amy. “Hurry up.”
Her face was pale with strain, but she quickly pulled on the second sneaker and laced it tight.
Whoever was running this show must be short-handed, McCann thought. There hadn’t been any kind of thorough search on this level, which meant the men they have must be needed to operate the ship. That was definitely one point in the good guys’ favor.
Amy stood up and he pulled her behind him as two sets of footsteps came back down the passageway. McCann was certain that the two men went down the steps to the torpedo room.
“Let’s go.”
“Where are we going from here?” she asked.
“We’re heading aft.”
“What are you trying to do?”
McCann wasn’t accustomed to giving reasons for decisions and orders on his own ship, but he knew this was a special case. Having already seen her persistence in action, he figured it was easier and quicker to explain.
“We know there are at least two of them forward, probably in the ship’s office. There are two below us in the torpedo room. I don’t know how many of them are up in the control room, so it would not be too wise charging up there and trying to overpower them.”
“Good thinking,” she said encouragingly. “Especially when your own men are against you.”
“Not all of them,” he said for the second time. “I found my sonar man knocked out and trussed up in the torpedo room. There could be more of them on board in the same situation as him.”
“Then, aft it is. But we have to pass the stairs to the torpedo room. They might spot us.”
“We just have to be quick and careful.” He was ready to go, but Amy grabbed his arm, holding him back.
“In case we’re separated, where are we going exactly?”
“We’ll be taking the tunnel through the reactor.”
“To the engine room?”
He nodded.
“You’re going to try to shut down the reactor, aren’t you?”
She was reading his mind. And if he didn’t get her moving, she’d be asking next for the sequence of what he planned to do. She’d even have him draw a schematic of it.
“We’ve got to go, Amy.” He took her by the hand and pulled her out into the passageway.
Chapter 23
Once the BSY-1 sonar consoles started coming — one by one — back to life, Paul Cavallaro began running tests on them. Mako waited until the navigation officer gave him a thumbs-up before he turned to his security officer.
“They went out the hole on the outboard side of the office,” Kilo told him. “I had one of the men follow the passage they cut. They went down to the torpedo room.”
“The two stationed down there to work the tubes didn’t see them?”
Kilo shook his head.
This was a problem. Mako had wanted the commander where he could keep an eye on him. He considered the situation from McCann’s perspective. He wanted to believe that Darius McCann wouldn’t destroy his own submarine, but he wasn’t so sure about that. Navy officers — and submarine commanders, in particular — can be real cowboys at times, and they can do incredibly heroic and stupid things in situations like this.