“Come in.” He held the door open. Zhi Ruo smiled, put her arms around his neck and kissed him. Then she stepped back and kicked her shoes off.
“Traffic. Took me ages today, the goddamn beltway. How do you cope, Paul?”
“I grew up around here, I suppose it helps.”
“Maybe.”
“You want a red wine?” He poured two glasses of her favourite Chilean Escarlata.
She looked at him teasingly. “Not yet, hon. You’d do me a great service if you’d put us both into your bath. We can drink them there.”
As they laid at opposite ends of the bath he watched her sip the glass. “Zhi. I’ve got an idea.”
“Oh?”
“Someone owes me a favour. I called them today and asked if I could borrow their vacation home. It’s a great spacious place in West Virginia, in the George Washington and Jefferson National Forest, about 120 miles away. I’ve stayed there before. It’s a great place, outdoors, forest, wildlife, rivers. We could go for the weekend and you can stay on longer. I can get there at the weekends, and sometimes during the week. It’s got an internet line, you can still write.”
She smiled. “That sounds great! I think I’m a country girl at heart, yeah, let’s do that! But first…”
She stood up in the bath, water dripped from her gorgeous nakedness.
“I need a rubdown, and she,” Zhi pointed to her mound, “is very hungry. It’s feeding time.”
INNES STARED IN HORROR. He’d never seen an underwater trip line like this. At the diagonal line’s end was a frame rising up from the seabed. Mounted on it were two cocked spear guns pointing back down along the line. Trip it, and you’d have a harpoon in your belly. There must be another at the end of the other angled line. This place would be riddled with them. This was worse than a minefield. It was a harpoon infested 3D spear fishing range, and they were the fish, right in the middle of it. Innes found himself breathing faster. Slow down, slow down. Just take it carefully.
They moved by and found another similar trap. Someone didn’t want them here. More slow progress, another diagonal wire. They had to rise carefully and pull the bug with them. Another six slow yards and there it was: the communications cable to the reef. And it was unshielded this close inshore. They were through the network of death and were clear. They placed the bug twelve feet to one side of the cable and its transporting buoyancy bag was removed. Alves unscrewed one end of the bug to access the arming system. Innes undid the tap like end to lay the cable thirty feet away, picking a position at 45 degrees away from the cable. He pulled out the line leading it away from the bug, he used care but wanted to position the cable nice and straight, the weight of the tap would keep it taut. He felt it before he saw it, and Innes froze. He shone his torch around: there was the nylon line, and it was against his head. He pulled slowly back, not wishing to send any sudden movements to the line. All the time he could imagine two harpoons aiming at him, waiting to be released. He was away now. He breathed again. Carefully, he completed the cable lay, then turned on to the reciprocal bearing and slowly returned to the bug. Alves was covering the bug with sediment mud and local plant life. It blended in quite well. They exchanged ok signs and began their return. They’d have to use care to get through this nest of harpoons, and at all costs avoid rushing. Innes tried his best to look assured and calm, when in truth he knew they were in deep trouble. He felt the sweat running down his back. After long slow minutes, the bulk of the boat arose in front of them. Innes let out a sigh of relief. They swam up the sail, and down into the hatch. Innes closed it and turned the wheel shut. Alves knocked three times on the lower hatch, paused, then knocked again. The water level started falling, and their weight returned. Then there was a wait as they were slowly ‘brought up’ by the pressure being reduced. Decompression stops were added to allow excess nitrogen to off gas. This prevented the bends, or decompression sickness. Finally, they opened the lower hatch and climbed down where two seamen were there to help them. As they stripped off their diving sets, Nathan showed up from the control room.
“How did it go?”
“It’s there sir, three yards from the cable,” said Alves, “once we got it through a cat’s cradle of defensive lines. Innes picked up the first one sir. They were armed with spear guns.”
“Nasty, very nasty. So we’ll have to instruct Cuckoo Fish to stand off?”
“Yes sir, it should be able to read the bug from outside the nest of thorns.”
“Well done guys, well done. I t’s mid rats soon. Get yourself whatever you want from the galley, then get some rest.”
Midnight rations were usually one thing, not like a regular meal. It wasn’t diet food but it filled the hole. Ravioli, enchiladas or some such. They gave the cook a grin.
“We’re privileged tonight. Tacos. Just what you want after a midnight swim,” said Innes.
“You guys just been outside?”
“Yeah, we’ve been out to Uncle Ho’s island.” They sat down.
The cook came out with a plate of grated cheese and more tacos.
“Good work you guys, you’ll want these.”
THE BOAT WAS ON SIX-hour watches. Six hours in your bunk and six hours on duty. Most who haven’t done it think you won’t sleep, in fact you’re out like a light. Nathan’s alarm woke him. He took breakfast in the galley and then walked off to the control room.
“Captain’s on the bridge,” announced the COB.
“Sir, all secure,” said the Weapons Officer, “we’re on the way to Johnson’s Reef, no boats issues. Civilian trade contacts only.”
“Very good Weaps.” Nikki Kaminski walked, in yawning.
Nathan smiled. “The bunk pulled today?”
“Yeah, I’ll be ok sir.”
“Ok, do you need a pop up?”
Nikki nodded. “That’d be great.”
“Planesman, take us to periscope depth, rig trim to ascend fore and aft one, two thirds. Speed four knots.”
The deck angled up as the boat ascended.
“At periscope depth sir.” Nathan set the scope controls for two 360 sweeps. This would give time for the satellite acquisition to happen.
“I’ve got a position update sir,” said Nikki Kaminski.
“Sir, we have a message from COMSUBPAC,” said Lieutenant Commander Lemineux.
“Flood one, make your depth eighty. Open and trim vents fore and aft. Make for depth. Speed six knots.”
He walked over to Kaminski’s chair and placed his hand on her back where no crew could see. He gently stroked her with his forefinger.
“Where are we?”
“Here sir, just ten miles off. We’re east south east of it.”
“Right.” Nathan looked at the communications print out. “Damn it. Why the hell now? Benson. Stream the tail, I want to know what’s out there. If an octopus gets a hard on, I want to hear its pulse race.”
Nathan turned and headed aft.
“XO, Kaminski. War committee, now.”
The three of them sat around the table in the Wardroom with three coffees. Nathan placed the communications print out on the table.
PRIORITY RED
R 231349Z OCT 89 ZY011
COMSUBPAC PEARL HARBOR HAWAII//N1//
TO STONEWALL JACKSON
PACFLT// ID S072RQ81//
NAVAL OPS/02
MSGID/PACOPS 6722/COMSUBPAC ACTUAL//
MSG BEGINS://
DDG-124 USS KIMBERLY PEER WILL TRANSIT YOUR AREA 10.00 ZULU 06/23.
ON A FONOP. DOD NOT AWARE OF OPS TEA LEAVES, CLIPPER OR SKIRMISH.
DO NOT ATTEMPT CONTACT.
ROUTE FLEXIBLE, BUT INTENDED ROUTE ATTACHED.
MSG END//
“That’s all we needed,” said the XO, “a fucking showboat stirring the bastards up. Joe Chinaman will be up all-night scratching his dick.”