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MSG END//

* * *

“PLANSMAN HOLD ON THIS course. Rewind the buoy, I think we’ll be needing it again soon.”

USS Stonewall Jackson followed the PLAN SSN below them. On and under the Strait was now a procession. On the surface two cargo ships carrying Iranian, North Korean nukes. Below and behind a Chinese SSN, followed by the underwater drone Ren, who was in turn followed by a second Chinese SSN. Shallow, but trailing the procession was USS Stonewall Jackson. Nathan smiled, he’d bide his time.

He knew that right now Pentagon staff would be running around as though they had a bad case of spiders up the ass.

“Sir, now would be a good time to charge the batteries,” said the XO.

“Ok, do it.”

“Come to periscope depth, raise the mast.”

Larry signalled Engineering.

“Snorkel raised. Charge the banks.” The Twin Detroit diesels started and drove the Taiyo electric Ltd generator. Recharging of the Li-ion batteries was underway.

Nathan turned and walked aft. “Weaps, you have the Conn. XO, Kaminski, war committee.”

Nathan returned to the Wardroom via the Galley with three coffees.

They sat at the table. “You heard, I asked for permission to get rough with the PLAN. Either they will, or they won’t give us permission. First, let’s assume they do, we’re outnumbered by two good boats. How do we win?” Nikki stood and started to pace the room, Larry rolled his eyes. “Why will I not like this?”

She ignored him. “It’s simple. We just outnumber them.”

“And how, Miss Victoria’s secret, do we do that?” asked the XO.

She grinned, “Have you been peeking?” She placed her palms on the table and looked at her senior officers.

“We get the Chinese to ask. Who let the dogs out?” She went on to explain her plan.

Nathan nodded. “I’ll buy that, it’s risky. But I’ll buy it.

Now, what if they don’t allow us to get down and dirty with the PLAN?”

The XO scowled.

“If they don’t want the job done we can take a long run ashore in India. Beaches, the Taj Mahal. In truth, we follow the ships and two SSN’s across the big sea. Ren can’t make it all the way so we’ll have to operate in a relay. That is, if the second SSN doesn’t suss out that he’s being fooled.”

“I know it’ll be a pig of a voyage, they’ll probably learn about us and it’ll be cat and mouse all the way to the Gulf.”

“Yeah and then we get to do our thing,” said Nikki.

“Ok. Plan Malacca and plan Gulf,” said Nathan, “one’s a surprise in a fairly constricted area. One’s not a surprise and the opposition has the help of the Iranian forces. Guess which they’ll pick?”

“Let me think?’ said Nikki rubbing her chin.

“Ok, we work on plan Malacca. If it’s plan Gulf we have time to work that one out.”

The three of them were well into working out plan Malacca when there was a knock at the door.

A communications PO put her head around the door.

“Sir, a communication’s here for you.”

“Transfer it to my tablet PO Muntezz.”

“Sir.” A couple of minutes later it arrived. Nathan read it and sighed.

“Plan Gulf.”

“Goddamn pussies,” said Nikki.

Nathan walked into the control room.

“Weaps, how long has Ren got?”

“He’ll have to be back in fifty minutes.”

“Ok get Stimpy ready, send him to relieve Ren when needed.”

He’d keep up the pretence that they were following the PLAN SSN by using the Pointers as long as he could. Then it would be three boats searching for each other playing blind man’s bluff and loosely following the ships across the Indian Ocean and up the Arabian Sea. What a fucking farce.

DUBAI. UNITED ARAB Emirates.

SHE CLIMBED UP THE steps from the pool and walked topless in the midday sun back to the changing room. Most of the Arabic women were topless or naked. There were several western women laid out or swimming in the women’s only pool. Silk Purse left the poolside, she dressed for public display including her headscarf. Picking her bag up she noticed there was a message on her cell phone. She called back.

“Hi Silky. All wrapped up and covered there?”

“Actually Rudolph, I’ve been topless for a while among naked and topless Arabic women.”

“Yeah right, me too.”

“It’s a woman’s only, open-air pool.”

“Oh Ok. Tonight, Silk Purse. It’s on, Operation Nimrod. Write this down.”

She took out a pen and paper.

“25.056N, 55.409E, be there at twenty fifteen hours. I’ve sent you a basic plan. Email it to Tosser’s throw away account and let her know.”

“Thanks Sir.”

“I had to eat a shit sandwich to secure this. Good luck.”

That night she left the city behind her and drove out into the desert along the E66. Next stop Al Faqua sixty kilometres away. She checked the sat tracker, another two kilometres she pulled up by the side of the road and set out walking away from the road through scrubland, a torch helped her find her way. After two kilometres she checked the sat tracker and stopped. All around was blackness, the lights of the city to the north were just visible. The road she’d left was hidden behind a berm. It felt isolated and distant, dark but with a warm breeze. Silk Purse wore a jacket and jeans with light boots and a dust mask, like a ski mask but this would keep the sand away. She waited for long dark and quiet minutes. Had there been a screw up, had there been a failure in communications? From the west, she heard a beating throbbing sound in the air. She held up the torch and waved it in the direction of the sound. Soon a helicopter was pulling down for a landing, sand and dust whirled about, shrubs leaned and shook in the downdraft. A door was pulled open, a helmeted crewman beckoned. Silk Purse approached it, before she climbed in she saw US Navy stencilled on the fuselage. She was pulled in and was strapped down by the crewman. The helicopter pulled up and away. The crewman handed her a helmet and plugged in the communications jack.

“Welcome aboard Mam, we’re out of here. It’s about fifty minutes flight to Mother.”

“Hi, and who’s Mother?”

“USS Mason Mam, an Arleigh Burke class Destroyer. She’s waiting offshore, north of here. Anything you want? Water?”

“No, I’m OK.” Forty minutes later the helicopter started to descend, a ship’s flight deck came into view and they landed with a noticeable bump, the door was opened, and she was led away to a doorway. The inside of the ship was quiet and clean.

“This way Mam.” She was led down a companionway to a reasonably large room. There were ten soldiers looking like some science fiction warriors. They wore CAM cream on their faces. All manner of devices were strapped to their arms and legs. They wore black figure hugging Kevlar looking suits. One stepped forward.

“Evening Mam, I’m Lieutenant T. US Navy Seals. I’m leading Operation Nimrod.”

“Hi, call me Silky.”

“Sarge E, get Silky dressed. We can’t have her on the Objective looking like a civvy.”

“OK Mam, Silky, get out of that first.” She took off her Top, Jeans and boots and was down to her underwear.

“Here, put this on and here are your boots.” The suit was similar to the ones they wore, and the black boots came half way up her shins. She smiled, given half a chance she’d try to keep this gear, it’d get looks down at her local pub or at work. Silky thought it was a sci-fi version of Cat woman and Laura Croft. Next, he applied the CAM cream to her face and gave her a helmet.

“Try this, you’ll have to adjust the chin strap.” She noticed they all wore handguns.

“Do I get a gun Sargent?”

“Does she get tooled up T?”

“If she wants to and can use it,” replied the Lieutenant.