"Well, couldn't you sort of stretch things out a little--be conservative on your drop patterns, that sort of thing?"
"A net full of holes isn't much use. I'd say let's save what we have left until we have something solid to use ' on."
"That sounds reasonable. Make it so." From behind the cramped workstation, Amanda lifted her arms over her head and stretched out some of the kinks in her shoulders.
234 James H. Cobb "Frankly, I don't think the damn thing's around here anyway."
It was a quiet night aboard the big destroyer, born out of an operation that seemed to be trending toward a dead end.
They were alone in Amanda's quarters, having gravitated together earlier in the evening, both to deal with a backlog of problems and for the companionship.
"Where do you think he is, then?"
"If I had any idea at all, we'd be going there. Since I don't, we aren't, and I'm sick of thinking about the subject."
She leaned forward over the desktop and cupped her chin in the palm of her hand. "Divert me, Lieutenant," she said.
"Any preferences?"
"Do me a date," she challenged, watching him through half-closed eyes.
"Where away?"
"Mmmm, Everett Fleet Base, about this time of year."
"Okay." The aviator grew thoughtful. Lacing his fingers together behind his head, he stared up at the cabin overhead.
"Captain, would you care to have dinner with me this evening?"
"I'd love to. What should I wear?"
"Let's see ... that green velvet dress, the one that you're always afraid is too short for you, and your gold sandals. Not a lot of jewelry, but maybe a matching velvet ribbon around your throat. Oh, and that dress definitely calls for nylons and a garter belt. Panty hose would be too plebeian."
"Nylons and a garter belt? Is that all I should wear under it?"
Arkady gave her a sideways glance. "Surprise me. At any rate, we'll drive down into Seattle. They've got the best seafood in the world there. I think for tonight ... the old Edge water Inn. Not superglamorous, but it's got great attitude.
It's also got this great St. Michelle Riesling for a house wine.
Then an Alaskan shrimp cocktail, baked salmon with sage dressing and rice pilaf, and maybe a piece of cheesecake, afterwards."
"Yum. Then where?"
"Your choice. There's always a couple of good shows in town?"
"Could we go dancing?"
SEA STRIKE 235
"Sure, name your poison."
"Slow, and somewhere there would be some good jazz."
"Jazz? Let's see ... "
Amanda smiled and turned to the portable CD system on the corner of her desk. As Arkady considered, she slipped a mellow jazz instrumental into the player.
"Okay," he said after a moment. "For good jazz in Seattle, our best bet would be to do some club-hopping around Pioneer Square. They've got some neat little hole-in the-wall clubs down there, if you know where to look."
"That'll be fun, like our first night in Honolulu."
"Yeah, we can dance some and do a little brandy and get mellow."
"Okay. I'd like that. And I think that about twelve-thirty would be right."
"Right for what?"
"For surprising you." Amanda lowered her voice seductively.
"I'll be just a little bit tight after my third drink, and while you're holding me close out in a dark corner of the dance floor, I'll whisper in your ear that I've got nothing on under my dress."
"Oh ... kay." Arkady swallowed a couple of times to get a suddenly dry throat working again. "After that, maybe a little walk to watch the city lights and to get our heads clear.
And then, a moonlight drive."
"Where to?" "I thought maybe up to Deception Pass."
"Isn't that quite a drive?"
"The freeway'll be clear that time of night. We can get out there before you know it. We'll park at the observation point at the head of that big old bridge over the Passage. We can talk and listen to a little music till the sun comes up."
"Sounds good, but you have a painful propensity for bucket seats, Mr.
Arkady. Last time we did something like that, I ended up with the outline of a parking-brake lever imprinted on the back of my left thigh."
"So, we'll take a pillow for you to sit on. Don't interrupt, this is getting good. Now, just as it's getting to be dawn, we'll walk out to the middle of the bridge and watch the sun rise while the tide turns through the passage." "Yes ... " Amanda said dreamily. "That would work.
But 236 James H. Cobb remember? No underwear. That could get a little cold."
"Hey, we're having a fantasy here. Flow with it."
"Good point. What's next?"
Arkady reached across the narrow desk and took up her free hand. Lifting it to his lips, he gently kissed her palm. "What's next is a little beach resort a ways farther west toward Oak Harbor. It's quiet and old-fashioned, but the cabins are nice and they have a room service that can do a pretty good breakfast in bed."
The sensual shiver rippling down her spine brought her out of her reverie. "I think it's just about time we broke this off," she said, reclaiming her hand.
"We're just getting to the good stuff."
Amanda smiled wryly. "I know. I'm well aware of your creative imagination, love. I consider it one of your more alluring features.
However, I think we've teased the animals about enough for one night."
"Chicken."
"Not likely!" she replied, slipping out from behind her desk. "However, we are both going to be sane and sensible adult human beings. We're going to call it quits before we start gnawing the paint off the bulkheads."
"So be it," Arkady sighed. His chair thumped back onto all four legs.
"Can I use your phone for a second? I want to get the word out to CIC
and to Zero Two about securing the sonobuoy drops."
"Be my guest. In the meantime, I'm for a shower and some sleep." She paused at the door of her sleeping cabin.
"Good night, Arkady, and thank you for a very nice night on the town."
"My pleasure, babe. Sweet dreams."
Amanda didn't bother to switch on the cabin light. The soft blue glow from the night-illumination panels in the overhead provided light enough to undress by. Beyond the door curtain, she could hear her Air Division Leader still on the interphone.
It was a good voice to listen to, intelligent, steady, and strong. Like its owner. As her soft cotton panties slipped down around her ankles, Amanda experienced another of those pleasurable frissons. Just for a moment, she was very tempted to abandon her good intentions.
SEA STRIKE 237
Get thee behind me, Satan, she told herself firmly. And you, too, Vincent Arkady.
She went into the tiny adjoining head and stepped into the shower stall.
Flipping the taps open, she nuzzled into the spray of warm water, letting herself laze under the steaming full-force flow.
Amanda rarely took advantage of the Captain's privilege of Hollywood showers and unlimited freshwater. She felt that she should set a good example by sticking to the same three minute, wet-down-lather-and-rinse mandated by water-use restrictions. There were nights, however, when she was willing to stretch the limits. This was one of them.
After a time, the tensions of the day rinsed off of her along with the water. Amanda's head sank forward, her eyes closing against the dim lighting.
Suddenly, the shower curtain was whipped aside and another unclothed body stepped into the stall with her and covered her mouth with his.
To say that she was startled was an understatement. Then she recognized the hard-muscled body and the special texture of that kiss and it was all right. Her surprise was replaced by a strong surge of desire.
"Damn it, Arkady!" she sputtered. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Personal hygiene." He grinned back at her, standing nose-to-nose, dark hair trailing across his forehead.
"We a
greed that we'd keep hands off when we were onboard ship!"
"Yeah, and I think that about now we're ready to agree that was a dumb idea." He began to nibble his way down the curve of her neck to her collarbone.
"Arkady!"
She tried to wriggle past him, but that only made things worse. Their skin grew seal slick and sweet under the water spray, and almost without conscious intent, she began to return his caresses with her fingertips and her tongue. Soon the trembling in Amanda's knees grew to the point that they threatened to buckle beneath her.
"Okay, I give, I give, you big idiot!" she gasped. "Now, let me turn this shower off before everything in here gets soaked. Let's figure out how we're going to do this."
238 James H. Cobb There was a tantalizing air of the illicit about what they were doing. As they toweled off and made their preparations, they found themselves whispering and giggling like a couple of teenagers undressing in a backseat. Arkady double checked the lock on the door and doused the office lights while Amanda prepared their bed.
Her bunk in its normal form was totally impossible. However, if she flipped its foam mattress out onto the deck of the sleeping cabin and tucked her spare bedding in around it, there might just be enough room.
This was stupid, she thought. This was incredibly stupid and risky and detrimental to good discipline and outside all common sense. But as she lay down with her damp hair spread out beneath her on the pillow and the soft sultry music from her disc player filling the cabin, she also knew that this was something that she needed very badly.
Then Arkady was beside her. There would be no subtlety this night. No jesting or small talk. They had been denied each other too long.
Sometime later, they drifted down from the peak together.
Their breathing and heartbeats slowed and the delicious afterglow warmed them. They eased over to rest on their sides, neither of them willing to give up their last and deepest intimacy.
"I'm sorry," she whispered sadly, "but you just can't stay here tonight."
"I know, babe, but I don't have to go quite yet."
"No, not quite yet."
The shrill warbling of the interphone exploded in the cabin like a bomb.
With the combination of a strangled curse and a startled yelp, they disentangled from each other. After several seconds of frantic floundering, Amanda managed to get up onto her knees and reach the handset at the head of her bunk.
"Yes?" she snarled with more intensity then she intended.
"Uh, Captain? This is Lieutenant Beltrain down in CIC.
We just got the latest sweep updates in from Task Flag. You did want to be informed, didn't you?"
"Oh, sure, Dix. Of course. Go ahead."
"All ASW sweeps in all sectors are still negative. No solid SEA STRIKE
239
tracks reported, no possibles being worked. All Allied Pacific Rim forces report the same. U.S. and Allied national intelligence assets report no new situational updates. Blank slate, ma'am."
"Any new instructions from Task Flag?"
' ' current sweep patterns until oh six hundred tomorrow morning. Then stand by to deploy to expanded search zones."
"Very good. Carry on, and keep me posted."
Amanda returned the phone to its cradle with great deliberation.
"I really hope that was important?" Arkady asked.
"Not so you'd notice. Just more of the same. Nothing, nothing, and more nothing. That damn Chinese boomer must have been abducted by aliens."
Amanda dropped back down onto the mattress beside Arkady.
Stretching out on her stomach, she snuggled close.
They'd stolen as much time as they could from the twin taskmasters of reality and duty. Dix's phone call had shattered their mood like a brick through a plate-glass window.
Still, they were satiated for the moment, and the warm darkness was a good place to talk.
"If you were a Chinese sub on the run, where would you go?" she asked,
"Okay," he said, rolling over beside her. "If I were that Red skipper, 1
would have burned a hole in the water after leaving Shanghai. I'd have run straight east till I was clear of Formosa and then straight south across the Philippine Sea.
I'd trust to blind luck and speed to keep me ahead of the search curve until I reached the coast of New Guinea.
"You've got a good combination of deepwater close inshore through there, which makes for a sloppy sound environment.
There'll be plenty of surf and current noise, and maybe some geologic transients."
"Hmm." She nodded, her hair brushing silkily against his shoulder.
"Where from there?"
"I'd work east through the Bismarck Archipelago and then out along the curve of the Solomon Islands and the New Hebrides chain. From that point, I could break out into the West Pacific basin. You've got a whole lot of empty sea miles out there to get lost in."
240 James H. Cobb "No," Amanda shook her head, "that doesn't work. Let's say you do make it out into the central Pacific. Chinese naval vessels aren't set up for long-range deployment. It's not part of their doctrine. You'd be running out of food. Your power plant would be breaking down. Your crew would be going stir crazy, and there you'd be, a veritable dagger poised at the throat of Tahiti."
"Okay, babe. Then where do you think he is?"
"You were losing sight of the fact that this guy isn't just out here to hide. His job is to target Taiwan and the rebel zones in southern China.
He's limited in his running room by the range of his missiles."
"Which is?"
"For the Ju Lang-2 IRBM, it's about two thousand miles.
That would give you a firing arc that would extend from about Vladivostok to the north, to the Marianas to the east, to Singapore to the south. Now, given that some of his potential targets are pretty far inland from the Chinese coast, I'd tighten that up some. Say. Pusan, to Parece Vela, to Saigon.
I'll bet he's still inside that arc somewhere, right now."
"The East and South China Seas and the western Philippine Sea," Arkady mused. "I hope that you aren't betting your pretty skin on that, my lady, because you'd lose. We've searched those bodies of water just about every way conceivable, short of pouring them through a strainer one bucketful at a time. He just isn't there."
"He's got to be!" Amanda coopted the lone pillow and tucked it under her chin in a carefully wadded ball. "No other place makes sense."
"Hell, that Chinese submarine would sound like ... well, like a Chinese submarine. He'd be a sitting duck. If he was anywhere inside that arc you're projecting, we would have heard him by now and we would have killed him, just like we did the two attack boats."
Amanda shook her head again. "We only killed one of the attack boats, Arkady. The other one either committed suicide or died from a terminal overdose of ineptitude. That's all part of this, too, somehow."
Angrily, she rolled over onto her back again. "This scenario is like one of those damn visual pattern puzzles. I get
SEA STRIKE 241
the feeling that if I just look at this a little bit differently, everything will come clear."
"Maybe so, babe. But still that boomer had to have gone somewhere."
"Obviously ... "
Amanda's voice trailed off, and Arkady felt her muscles tense. Abruptly, she sat up in the darkness.
"No," she whispered. "No, it didn't."
PHILIPPINE SEA 0404 HOURS ZONE TIME; AUGUST 24, 2006
Retainer Zero One blazed low over the night-darkened waves. It was a repeat of their previous crisis flight to Task Force 7.1, except that this journey had been instigated at Amanda Garrett's insistence.
Likewise, this time the Sea Co manche carried a third passenger.
' This would be a lot more fun if one or the other of us were male,"
Christine Rendino grumped. She was wedged in beside Amanda in the rear cockpit, lacking the room for even a deep breath.
Amanda was in no moo
d for levity. "Will you be able to spot what we need, Lieutenant?"
The Intel sobered swiftly. "I can't make any guarantees, Boss Ma'am. I have a pretty good idea of what we should be looking for, and I think that Fleet Intelligence should have the assets we need to get the job done. Beyond that, I can't make any promises. You might want to give me a little more time to develop this before you beard the brass in their den."
"We may not have a little time to spare. Arkady, how long to Task Flag?"
"I've got everything wide open but the glove compartment," the aviator replied from the front cockpit. "We should be down on the flattop in another twenty minutes."
"This is damn unusual procedure, Captain," Admiral Tall man said.
Admiral Tall man and his chief of staff had been waiting for them in the briefing room on the carrier flag deck. Vince Arkady accompanied Amanda, standing behind her at parade rest, awaiting her call forward. She would need his input presently. Christine was already involved down in the carrier intelligence section, making serious medicine with her Fleet level counterparts. Hopefully, she also would be available when the time for her input came.
"I know, sir," Amanda replied. "This is out of the ordinary.
However, I believe the situation warrants it. I think I know where the Xia is."
"What?" Commander Walker came half out of his chair.
"You've had a contact that you haven't reported?"
Amanda shook her head emphatically. "No, Commander, that's just the problem. We haven't. No one has. For the past six days, we've been scouring the East China Sea with the most sophisticated ASW assets available in the inventory and we haven't produced a single solid contact."
"I wouldn't quite say that, Captain," Tall man interjected.
"We've accounted for both of the Hans."
"Yes, sir. We have. We were able to get fixes on both of the Red attack boats in pretty short order. But we haven't been able to even get a sniff of the larger and--theoretically --more vulnerable boomer. The reason for it is simple.
It's not out here. It never has been."
"Oh, for Christ sakes!" Walker exploded. "Need we remind you, Captain, that you were the one who originally claimed to have seen the damn thing sortie!"
"Stand easy, Commander!" Tall man's voice was stern.
Sea Strike Page 26
