Clean up seemed to mean death. The end. Fourteen hundred. Military time for 2:00 p.m. Engagement in less than two hours.
Amy took a couple of deep breaths and made sure she was holding the gun correctly, the way McCann had instructed her to. She jumped as more shots echoed in the passageway. The shots were definitely coming from below.
She moved to the top of the stairs and looked down just as McCann called out below. At the bottom of the stairs, crouching behind a pair of pressurized bottles, a man began to shoot in the direction of the commander’s voice.
Raising her pistol with both hands, Amy squeezed the trigger.
The pistol almost bucked out of her grasp, but the man at the bottom of the stairs looked up in surprise, raised his gun and fired a shot at her. She pulled back, feeling the buzzing heat of the bullet an inch from her ear before it buried itself in the wiring above, showering her with sparks.
Stumbling over the bodies behind her, she backed away from the stairs.
Shots continued to ring out below, and then everything fell completely silent. She didn’t know if she’d even hit her mark.
Chapter 37
With the exception of the Vice President, who had to be relocated under the present crisis, the rest of President Hawkins’s war cabinet were assembled at the White House when the executive order was issued.
“They are clearly targeting our energy resources,” Hawkins told his group. “This time they hit that exploration facility in Long Island Sound. The next missiles will be headed for nuclear power plants. We won’t let that happen. We’ve waited long enough.”
“All the pieces are in place, sir,” the deputy Secretary of Defense announced.
“That’s correct, Mr. President,” the head of the Joint Chiefs concurred. “USS Pittsburgh is in Long Island Sound and in hot pursuit. The navy has two frigates following and a destroyer standing by in New York harbor. Air support is ongoing. We’re waiting for your order, sir.”
“Good. We’ve discussed your tactical options, General. I want you to blow them out of the water.”
The head of the Joint Chiefs and the Secretary of Defense both looked at Admiral Norman Pottinger and nodded.
He’d been waiting for this all morning. It was finally time to go to work.
Chapter 38
In the control room, Mako watched his crew as he tugged a Yankees cap out of his back pocket and pulled it on. He was ready for action.
Three of the men glanced over their shoulders at him, waiting for his orders. Paul Cavallaro, unaware of Mako’s intentions, continued to plot their course on the charts.
Mako marked the time on his watch before beginning to bark out orders faster than they could be acknowledged.
“Officer of the Deck, all ahead one third. Helm, turn for fifteen knots, right ten degrees rudder, steady course. Prepare to dive, depth six hundred feet. Officer of the Deck, give me tube status. Dive, helm.”
The deck inclined downward as the helmsman pushed the control yoke for the stern planes forward. As the depth was called out, he eased back on the yoke. The deck leveled off, and several in the control room moved quickly to monitor the additional stations that they were manning.
Mako stalked to the firing panel, where one of his men was trying to program the torpedoes.
“Nothing down there, sir. We’re shut down,” he said under his breath.
“The VLS?”
The man checked the monitor at the next station. “Also down, sir.”
“We don’t need it,” Mako said, stepping back onto the conn platform. He looked down at his watch again and saw Cavallaro as he moved into the Sonar Room.
“Conn? Sonar,” the officer called out the door. “Captain, we have company. There’s an approaching object. A small object.”
“Can you identify it? Is it a torpedo?”
“Negative on the torpedo, sir. But I can run it through the computer.”
“Negative, Lieutenant. That won’t be necessary.”
Mako smiled. They were right on schedule for their appointment.
Chapter 39
Brody was pressing a rag against the wound to stanch the bleeding, but McCann was not ready to leave him like that. A medical kit was bolted to the bulkhead by the stairs, and he went running for it. He was back in seconds.
“How are you holding up, Brody?”
“Real good, Skip.”
McCann knew he was lying through his teeth.
“Let me look at that.”
He peeled back the rag to examine the wound. He couldn’t find it, so he went into the kit and took out surgical scissors. It took only a moment to slit the pant leg to the thigh. He carefully inspected the wound. There was no exit hole from the bullet, so he knew it was still lodged somewhere above the knee. The blood was flowing freely, so McCann quickly tore open the packet of antibiotic pads and held it firmly against the bullet hole.
“Sorry, sir,” the young man said.
“Shut up, sailor.”
McCann waited as long as he could, but he knew the bleeding wasn’t going to stop while that bullet was in there. Using his teeth, he tore open a second packet. He had to replace the first pad because it was already soaked.
“No, I mean it, Skipper. I’m sorry.”
“For what?” McCann reached into the kit and took out a roll of wide surgical tape.
“For questioning you. I shouldn’t have. I wasn’t really thinking straight, sir, but I should have remembered that Rivera and Dunbar were the only ones who could have knocked me out. They were in the galley when I left. They must have come out right behind me.”
“Forget about it,” McCann said, winding the tape tightly around Brody’s leg. “That’s the best we’ll be able to do right now. How are you feeling?”
“Fine, sir. If you could just help me get to my feet.”
“That’s the last thing you should be doing.”
Even so, he helped Brody up. The sonar man balanced on his good leg and leaned back against the torpedo rack.
McCann glanced toward the stairs. He didn’t know who shot at the third gunman. The shot definitely came from the middle level. When the hijacker had responded, firing up the stairs, McCann had then been able to take the man down. He wondered if someone else, like Brody, had just been able to get free. If that was the case, why hadn’t he come down when the shooting stopped.
It couldn’t have been Amy, he told himself. She’d promised to stay where he’d left her.
“They’ve taken the sub deeper, sir,” Brody said, trying to put a little weight on his leg. The blood was soaking through the man’s pant leg.
“Yes, I felt it,” McCann said, suddenly worried for Amy. “Okay, this is the plan. I’m ordering you to stay here and shoot anyone who tries to come down those stairs. I don’t want them loading the tubes.”
“That ain’t gonna happen, sir.
“There’s a woman on board. An EB ship super. She was in charge of fixing our system, but she got caught in the boat during the hijacking. Don’t shoot her.”
“Where is she now?”
“She’s supposed to be waiting in the engineering office, back aft. But she’s not too good at following orders.”
“Got it, Skipper” Brody assured him.
“We’ve got enough weapons now, so I’m going to make my way back to the engine room. I’ve got to take out the man in Maneuvering if I’m going to shut down the reactor. Then I’m coming back here, and we’re going to take our ship back.”