Skyler motioned to the Marine’s sidearm. The colonel slid the Beretta M9 from his holster and handed it over. Skyler pulled the slide back then placed the barrel’s tip at the base of Schafer’s’ skull. “Then we’ll have to wash your brains off the console before we find someone else to do the job.” He hoped Schafer fell for his bluff — the sub’s fire control office was already transported to the deck of the Iwo Jima.
Schafer glared at Skyler. “I should have had you shot when you dove off my deck.” Then he slowly extended his hands over the keyboard. “I expect to be treated fairly for assisting you.”
“Not my call,” Skyler said. “But I hear Guantanamo Bay is lovely this time of year.”
Schafer grunted, then began typing, causing the console to light up.
Skyler turned to Thorpe and motioned for the scientist to keep watch over the captain’s shoulder. A monochrome CRT monitor displayed scrolling text that reminded Skyler of the old DOS commands from back in the day.
After what seemed like enough time for the captain to write a novel, he paused and leaned back in the chair. “The guidance control systems are in sync.” He turned to face the small group. “But it appears you are too late.”
Skyler yanked Schafer to his feet and shoved him toward the Marine. Then he turned to Thorpe. “You’re up.”
CRISIS CENTER
The President along with his national security team watched the large, high resolution monitor in the basement of the West Wing of the White House. Dr. Dolen, Professor Reynolds and Colonel Argentine were there as well. Everyone was focused on the monitor. It displayed the confirmation of an SLBM launch from approximately 1600 kilometers off the California coast. The projected course and target indicated Los Angeles.
“This is beyond belief,” the President said. “General Greer, are we still at DEFCOM 3 from the first Candle launch?”
“Yes, sir,” said the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
“Take us to DEFCOM 2 and be ready to go to one in the event this attack opens a window of opportunity to others to strike at us.”
Greer motioned to one of his aides who began nodding as he listened to the general’s orders and inputted the info into a tablet.
The President turned to the three members of the Deep Scan team. “I thought you guys assured me that they had used up all their korium. That there couldn’t be another Candle beyond the one they detonated over Hawaii.”
“I’m afraid we got our estimates wrong,” Dolen said.
“Not in how much korium was left, Mr. President,” Reynolds said, “but in how little it takes to produce a fusion device.”
“Its capacity to create energy is still being evaluated,” Argentine added.
“Can’t we shoot it down?” the President asked no one in particular.
“The interceptor missiles at Vandenberg are being readied, sir,” Greer said. “But they can’t be launched until the incoming warhead is in sight of the interceptor’s associated radar.”
“They better get ready fast.” the President said. “That thing is already halfway to—”
“What the hell?” Alan Grant said as he got to his feet.
“What just happened?” The President’s eyes stayed glued to the launch telemetry and projected path of the missile which seem to come to a grinding halt.
“It just… disappeared.” Reynolds said.
“Maybe it exploded,” Grant added.
“Is that possible?” the President asked.
No one answered for a moment.
Dean Clancy ended a call. “I have confirmation, Mr. President. The Candle blew up approximately three hundred miles off the California coast. Something caused the warhead to detonate during reentry into the lower atmosphere. The explosion was bright enough to be seen from as far away as our stations in Alaska.”
The President stood. “General, launch your counter measures.”
COUNTER MEASURES
Blackstone stood on the bridge of the Mako Shark and screamed, “What the fuck just happened?”
“We’ve lost contact, sir,” the first officer said in a less than enthusiastic tone.
“You mean lost contact as in it’s still on target but you aren’t receiving telemetry, or you’ve lost control the missile?”
Before the first officer could answer, the fire control officer’s voice came through the intercom speaker. “Guidance, Conn.”
Blackstone pressed a button on the speaker housing. “Conn here. What the hell’s going on?”
“Captain, the missile exploded as it came out of sub-orbit. The warhead detonated a few milliseconds later.”
Blackstone rubbed his face. “How could that happen?”
There was a long pause. “Sir, someone synchronized our guidance control system with the one on the Tiger Shark.”
“And?”
“They inputted the missile destruct code. Before we realized what happened and tried to override, it was too late.”
“Then get us out of here fast before they find us.”
The speaker box buzzed. “Conn, Sonar. High-speed screws, sir! Torpedoes in the water!”
“How many?”
“Two, sir. No wait. Three — now I count four.”
“Crash dive!” Blackstone ordered. “Put us on the bottom. And start counter measures.”
“More high-speed screws, sir!” The operator’s voice cracked and wavered. “Two more torpedoes. They’re from a second submarine.”
Ping… ping… ping…
“Son of a bitch!” Blackstone grabbed a railing as the deck pitched forward.
“They’ve acquired us, captain!”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Blackstone yelled back.
“One thousand yards and closing fast, sir.”
“Brace for impact!” Blackstone announced through the PA system.
The Mako Shark shuddered as it raced downward.
“Can we outrun the torpedoes?” the first officer asked.
Blackstone smiled. “Not a chance.”
U-396
Skyler looked up through his face mask at Candice waving at him from the rear deck of the Pegasus. In the blinding glare of the Caribbean noonday sun, he squinted as he waved back. Then he adjusted his mouthpiece and swam over to a bright orange buoy a few meters away. Gates treaded water nearby, his eyes wide with the same excitement from the thrill of the hunt, the quest for treasure. Every cell in his body was in overdrive as Skyler gave Gates a thumbs-up and grabbed the descent line connected to the buoy. In the next instance, Skyler was engulfed in an emerald world of shimmering sunbeams. The white nylon line faded into an endless expanse as he followed it down 47 meters to the ocean floor.
Skyler took his time pausing twice to clear his ears. When the bottom finally rose up and surrounded him, he adjusted his buoyancy compensator vest and checked his air pressure gauge. Gates arrived beside him and gave a thumbs up. Skyler noted the time on his watch and took a bearing from his wrist compass. He pointed to his right and started swimming across the flat sandy bottom. A few moments later, a V-shaped trench appeared in the dim light filtering through the clear water. Both men glided over the edge and dropped down along its side — a layered wall of limestone and coral — until they reached the bottom 10 meters below. Changing direction, they followed the trench for another minute or two.
Skyler had spent the morning studying records, photos, and blueprints from the Howarldtswerke AG shipyards in Kiel. Howarldtswerke built 31 U-boats between 1939 and 1944—U-396 was commissioned October 16, 1943. Originally it was reported sunk in April of 1945 in the North Atlantic southwest off the Shetlands by depth charges from a British Liberator. It was not until the post-Cold War archives suggested the Martin Bormann connection that Germany contracted OceanQuest to conduct a search.