Nathan looked at her with an approving grin and a newfound respect. “I like it. Well said, Nikki. Ok, thanks CPO Alves, we’ll be off to plan our operation. You run through the bug’s details with Innes and plan your dives.”
“Sir.”
The three officers left the torpedo room picked up coffees on the way to the Wardroom.
“Ok,” said Nathan, “all we have to do is figure out how to put our head in the lion’s mouth, without the lion knowing it’s there and biting it off.”
Larry snorted. “Yeah, shouldn’t be too difficult.”
Nathan drew the palms of his hands over his temples.
“Ok Nikki, get the Mischief Reef data up on the tablet. Let’s get on with Operation Clipper.”
“WE’RE LUCKY TO BE AHEAD, Dad. If that last throw had been complete, the Packers woulda been in.”
“I know. Hon, I’m going to the restroom, do you want me to get you anything to drink or anything else?”
“Get me an iced tea, oh and a dog, no mustard.”
Stockhaisen got up and left Peekaboo in her seat. It was good to be sharing this with her again, after their reconciliation. The Redskins had practically raised her. He made his way to the concourse, and to Taco Bell. There, leaning against the wall with a beer in his hand and another he was drinking from, was his CIA contact Paul Wicks.
“Hi.”
“Hi, there you go.” A beer was placed in his hand.
“Anything new, Paul?”
“Not much. You?”
“This South China Sea issue is eating my time at the moment, it just gets worse the more you look at it. Incidentally, I’m being leaned on for more information about the source of the intel.” The stadium crowds passed the two men by.
“Who by?”
“Joint Chiefs.”
Paul smiled. “So, nobody important.”
“Do you have a bone I can give them?”
He didn’t want to, and couldn’t tell Stockhaisen who it was. Oh, it’s just some honey from the MSS I’m banging. He could see Stockhaisen was waiting to be fed. “All I can say is it’s someone in the Ministry of State Security.”
“Ok thanks.” Stockhaisen shook his head. “Another of that lot. They seem to be getting busy recently.”
Paul tried to appear semi interested, but kept a carefully neutral expression as Stockhaisen continued.
“Yeah, I was at an FBI contacts meeting the other day. One of the items on the list was that there’s an MSS agent active in the DC area right now. A woman. They’re doing a trawl for her.” Paul stiffened in horror.
“DC? I would think that there’s plenty of foreign agents around DC.”
“Yeah probably, they think it’s worth a trawl anyway.” Stockhaisen sighed. “Background checks on ethnic Asians, contacts with known players. That sort of thing.”
Paul’s mind raced. “There’ll be a lot of Asians in the DC area. How do you know she’s Asian?” Stockhaisen gave him a look.
“They’re thick with the East African countries, via the mineral trade,” said Paul. “How do you know they didn’t borrow or recruit a black girl?”
“I suppose it’s possible,” replied Stockhaisen, “but not too likely. Anyway, that’s for the FBI to sweat over.
Third quarter’s about to get moving, the Packers will be going for it. My daughter’s up there, and I’ve got to pick up an iced tea and a dog. I’ll see you.”
“Yeah, see you.”
Stockhaisen left and Paul stood leaning against the wall. The FBI is out looking for an MSS spy, a woman? He knew it had to be. It had to be her. Paul scowled, Zhi Ruo, why did it have to be you? Why couldn’t she be a translator, work for a bank or a think tank? Damn it.
She was providing valuable information on China’s South China Sea operation. He couldn’t let the FBI swallow her up, she’s too valuable.
Paul returned to his seat but wasn’t watching the game. He wrestled with his dilemma. How to protect her? He tried his best to avoid the five hundred pound gorilla in the room. Was it just the information that she could provide? Or was it more than that? Paul knew she was drawing him in.
NATHAN STOOD IN THE sail. Some lights illuminated operations during the replenishment operation but they were kept to a minimum. He could make out the bulk of the fleet replenishment ship to starboard. The diesel line had just been disconnected and was being winched back to the ship. It would be two hours yet till dawn. They were sixty kilometres east of Palawan Island. Lieutenant Commander Lemineux stood with him in the sail, operating a handheld flash signaller.
Nathan shouted down the sail. “COB, how’s the manifest look?”
“Sir, if the diesel’s transferred then we’re all good.”
A senior rating climbed into the sail from the deck. “The diesel connection valve is sealed, sir.”
“Very good. Get yourself below, we’ll be leaving soon.” He turned to Lemineux. “Flash them thanks for the fill up, see you post op.”
“Sir.”
Lemineux flashed out the message, then the two men then climbed into the sail, and Nathan sealed the upper and lower hatches. He went into the control room.
“Flood one and two. Open and trim vents fore and aft. Dive, dive, dive. Down bubble fifteen. Make your depth eighty. Speed seventeen, bearing; Kaminski?”
“Two five four sir.”
“You heard the lady.” The deck angled down. Above on the night dark surface, the growing bow wave climbed the sail. The boat slid into the dark depths unseen, and unheard. USS Stonewall Jackson began Operation Clipper, her mission into the dragon’s den, Mischief Reef.
Chapter 4
THE BOAT PASSED THROUGH the Balabac Strait South of Palawan Island, and headed on a bearing of 315 degrees. It would be 140 miles to the Reef, some seven hours away. She was now in the disputed South China Sea.
With two hours to go, the boat’s passive sonar picked up a contact.
“Sonar. Surface contacts coming south, sir.” His best Sonar operator was on watch, CPO Dan Benson. The crew called him the Virginia Visionary.
“What does the oracle say, CPO Benson?”
“I’m running it through the library now sir. But I’ll bet a Dairy Queen to a rancid pork belly that it’s a mix of warship and cargo ship.” Nathan knew he’d probably be right; if the library computer went down, you could count on the Virginia Visionary.
“Here we go sir, large freight vessel, probability 85 %, and two Type 052C or D. Luyang-II class Destroyers. Probability 93 %. Range 160 miles. Bearing three two three degrees. Their heading is one four zero degrees.”
He thought he knew what was afoot. “Kaminski, where do you think they’re going?”
She plotted their positions on the electronic chart. “Sir, it looks like they're heading right for Mischief Reef.”
He’d guessed right. “That’ll be it, a supply or delivery operation with warship escort. Must be important to warrant sending two Destroyers out from Zhanjiang naval base.”
“Weaps, what does the dummies’ guide tell us to be aware of?”
The Weapons Officer consulted the electronic database. The dummies’ guide to PACRIMFLT was the nickname for the guide to Pacific Rim Fleets. Its real name was almost meaningless.
“She’s got an SJD-8/9 active/passive search and attack sonar. Short-range defense is two 730 close-in weapon systems. That’s 5,000 rounds a minute. That’ll be her defense if we launch a Harpoon strike. She operates a Kamov Ka-28 helicopter, NATO codename Helix.”
“Let me guess.” said Nathan, “APR-E3 torpedo.”
“Yes sir.”
“I know it. Fast, but its short range is its weak spot; max three kilometres. He’ll have a dipping sonar and sonobuoys of course. Kaminski, set me up an intercept point on their path. North of Mischief.”