The Iranian Blockade

by Stephen Makk

Nathan transferred the message to the Communications Officer.

  PRIORITY RED

  R 2713555Z JUL 86 ZY10

  STONEWALL JACKSON

  CIA-OPS// ID C796TF722//

  TO CIA OPS LANGLEY//COMSUBPAC//N18//

  NAVAL INTEL OPS/04

  MSGID/STONEWALL JACKSON 479/ ACTUAL//

  MSG BEGINS:/7

  NOW IN NORTHERN EAST CHINA SEA. PLAN SHANG CLASS SSN IS FOLLOWING THE TWO VESSELS. WE BELIEVE IT’S THE ESCORT. ORDERS?

  MSG END//

  “Message sent Sir.”

  “Ok, Benson, I want you to keep a damn fine ear out for any other SSN’s. If you want to drift the boat, you have my permission to call for all stop.”

  “Yes Sir. If there’s something out there, Lucy and I will hear it.”

  He walked to the Navigation Officer’s station.

  “Nikki where’s our track take us?”

  “As I thought, east of Taiwan. We should be fifty miles off Keelung City, northeast Taiwan, in.” She calculated. “Thirty hours. Then It’ll be the South China Sea, around Singapore and up the Strait of Malacca.”

  “Ok Lieutenant. It’s going to be a long slow cruise to Iran.” Nathan got the XO to come over to the Conn.

  “Larry, we’ll have to come to periscope depth to recharge the batteries from time to time. Work out a schedule but allow us some wriggle time.”

  “Will do Sir.”

  Nathan looked around the control room, he’d a good team. They were in for a boring cruise. But one followed by who knows? He admitted he hadn’t expected the Chinese SSN. It was at the stage where he needed to get some rack time. Nathan went aft to his cabin.

  THE CHINESE SUBMARINER saluted. “Captain Sir. We have a message from PLAN HQ Zhanjiang.”

  Captain Huang of the SSN Long March 08 took the paper slip and read it. He frowned, this was odd. The Luzon star and the Pacific sealift? The two cargo ships would need to pass near here, and they were escorted by the Long March 09. Very odd, but orders are orders.

  “All stop, make your depth one hundred meters. We will await the arrival of other vessels. Sonar, they should be more than fifty hours away, if you have anything to do on the sonar maintenance? Do it now, be ready.”

  “Yes Sir, I’ll contact the Engineering section.”

  Huang opened his log and wrote up his new orders. What the devil did they want with watching two cargo ships? Something was going on, but he couldn’t ask Zhanjiang. They’d just tell him to follow orders and if he couldn’t, somebody who could would replace him. He shrugged and carried on with his log entry.

  DUBAI. UNITED ARAB Emirates.

  “I FEEL LIKE MA GRANNY.” Tosser sat at the street side café, “this head scarf thing, it’s a pain.”

  Tosser had several curls of blond hair protruding out from under her headscarf.

  “You’ll live,” said Silk Purse. A waiter turned up with two coffees.

  “Thanks.”

  A few minutes later a dark haired young man arrived and sat at their table.

  “Josh, nice of you to join us. This is Tosser, my assistant.”

  “Good afternoon Miss.”

  “Right Josh, where is she?” asked Silk Purse.

  “A source tells me she’s still in Bandar Abbas.” Silk Purse pulled out and opened a map of the city. He pointed to a street on the eastern side of the city.

  “There, the Rannediff jail.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Sure, is a big word. It’s very likely my source tells me.”

  “Do you know the layout?”

  “Come on. I told you more than you’ll get from others.”

  Josh laughed.

  “They don’t allow visitors.” He stopped himself.

  “But Josh, I can see a but.” Silk Purse smiled.

  “It has been known for them to allow visits from relatives. Apparently, it’s from the Koran, or some such crap.

  But neither of you look like relatives. She’s of Indian or Pakistani descent.”

  “That’s true,” said Silk Purse with a pained expression.

  “What about adoption?” asked Tosser.

  “She’s a little older than me. One of us could have been adopted. We’d be sisters then.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” said Josh carefully.

  “But they might?” pressed Tosser. He shrugged.

  “They might.”

  “We have to try. Can you get me into Bandar Abbas?”

  “Hold on Tosser,” said Silk Purse.

  “I might, I might. Do you have a British passport with you? They’ll know she’s British it would add to your credibility.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Tosser,” said Silk Purse.

  “Ok, I’d like to put one over on the Mullahs. You’ll have to pretend to be my wife, it’ll make it easier to get you in or if we’re checked. Be at the transport dock, west side at 10pm. I can’t call you Tosser.” She thought.

  “Helen McDavid. I knew her at school.” He smiled.

  “See you tonight Helen.” He got up and left.

  Silk Purse gave her a hard stare.

  “You’ve not been operational yet. Iran. We already have an experienced agent in jail there.”

  “I’ve been in an Antarctic blizzard on this one. How old were you on your first op? Did they think you were ready? Don’t tell me, you fought hard to get yourself sent in, I know you Boss. Let’s get her out. Let’s kick the ragheads asses.”

  Silk Purse shook her head. She remembered Libya, she’d faced resistance, it was hard and dangerous, but she’d done it. Her boss had resisted. But, the bastard was, it was now her call.

  “I’ll say I snuck off and went myself. If it goes well, you can take the credit for knowing who to send and when. It’s a no-lose situation. Come on Silky, please”

  “Ok, go and get Crutch out.” Tosser hugged her. “Thanks, thanks. I won’t let you down.”

  She beamed and laughed. “Also, I get to be Josh’s wife, he isn’t bad looking, you never...”

  Silk Purse smiled. “Sorry to disappoint you, but Crutch said he’s as bent as a barking snake.”

  THAT NIGHT THEY LEFT on a fast power boat across the Gulf. Outside of Bandar Abbas they boarded a fishing boat. At dawn they pulled into a harbour, Josh was known to the harbourmaster. He passed over their passports, each with a twenty-dollar bill inside. The harbour master removed the bills and waved them through.

  They walked up to a store where Josh bought a cell phone, he entered a number and handed it over. “I have business elsewhere, so I’ll leave you here. You can contact me on that cell, I’m Terri. It’ll make international calls too.”

  “Give me a start Josh, where did she hang out here, at first?”

  “I met her in the Eastern Horse Café off Pasdaran Boulevard on the far west of the city. Near the Gulf. Start there.”

  “Ok write it down in Farsi.” He handed her a slip of paper. Tosser set off walking west. She looked around taking in the city. More westernised than she’d expected, the girls nearly wore headscarves. Some wore jeans. It was a busy bustling city. She had plenty of Iranian Rial, the British embassy in Dubai had issued them. She couldn’t believe it. I’m on an op, undercover in Iran. She had to make a start. Crutch was in jail, going through, she didn’t know what. She got a cab to the Eastern Horse. Walking in she looked around the cakes, and a gorgeous smell of cooking bread along with fresh coffee. She walked up to the young girl behind the counter.

  “Coffee and cake.” She pointed to the display and a steaming coffee pot.

  The girl smiled she passed them over and said in English, “Fifty Rials.”

  She paid, then had an idea. She opened her wallet and took out a picture of Crutch and her. It had been taken on HMS Montrose off Antarctica.

  “Do you know her?”

  “Yes, it is Paniz. She my friend. Who you?”

  “I’m her sister.” The Iranian girl frowned.

  “I know we look differ
ent, but her family adopted me.”

  The Iranian girl shrugged. It took a while to explain but she finally understood.

  “You Mother and Father gone, dead?”

  Tosser nodded.

  “I not believe what paper write, Paniz not like that.”

  “She’s in jail. Rannediff jail.”

  “I know.”

  “Can you see her? Tell them she’s your friend, she will have had no visitors.”

  The Iranian girl looked down.

  “They might, I will try to see her.”

  “Great, here’s what I want you to say to her.” Tosser sat her down and made her memorize the words. She had her practice over and over.

  “I can get you her words. Where do you stay?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  The girl smiled. “You can stay at my apartment.”

  “Ok, thanks.”

  THAT NIGHT ANUPA WAS brought back to her cell after a toilet visit. Omar had let her wash herself with a sponge. As long as he could watch. She let him see her naked, you never know when you might need a favour, and he’d seen her that way anyway. There were camera’s in the room. He walked back into the room several minutes later.

  “Paniz, you have a visitor.”

  “What?” The girl from the Eastern Horse cafe walked in.

  “Shabnam” They hugged.

  Omar left them alone.

  “I have a message for you, a girl with sand colored hair is here.” What? she thought.

  “What’s the message Shabnam?”

  In a near perfect Scottish accent, she repeated the message.

  “Tell the ragheads they can get tae fuck. I’m here to save yer wee ass. Yer sister, T.”

  Anupa was staggered.

  “Tosser.”

  The girl left, that night Anupa drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face. Tosser was here, she was inexperienced but she’d a pair of balls; for a girl.

  WHEN SHABNAM GOT HOME Tosser was waiting.

  “I told them her sister was here. I asked them to let you see her it’s only proper and the right thing to do. To show compassion to their captive.”

  “And?”

  “I think they will let you in to see her. She show me cameras and microphone. You cannot speak, you cannot I say speak free.”

  “That’s ok.”

  The following night both Shabnam and Tosser knocked on the door to the jail. They were let inside. A man appeared, young with a moustache.

  “How can you be sister, you are white?”

  “Her family adopted me, My real parents died. Ask her. Please let me see my sister, please.”

  The man relented. He could listen, he may pick something up, he was getting nowhere with this woman. Tosser was led inside, she was very careful to remember every turn and corridor. She looked for cameras.

  Eventually, she was led to a room and the door opened.

  Anupa rushed over and hugged her.

  “See, your sister Helen didn’t abandon you Anupa.” She passed on what she was calling herself. After the usual sisterly chat Tosser quizzed her about the layout without making it obvious.

  “Do they let you out? What do you do all day? When do you get to do these things?

  After some time Tosser got up. “I’ll be back tomorrow, I might have news from home, Antie Silk has been asking about you. She’s at the south shore now, probably in the sun it’s what she’d Do by.” Anupa nodded.

  “See you tomorrow?”

  So, thought Anupa, Silk Purse was on the south shore, in the sun. It’s what she’d Do by.

  Silky was in Dubai on the south shore of the Gulf. Tosser was learning the prison layout. God, had it been good to see her. She grinned.

  THAT NIGHT SHE CALLED a number in Dubai.

  “Hi, call me back.” The cell rang almost right away.

  “Hi Tosser, what’s happening? I’ve been worried.”

  “I’ve been in to see her, she’s looked better but she’s ok. Look, I’ve been learning the layout of the place and I’m in again tomorrow. Give me a throwaway web email address. I’ll add a draft and attach a sketch that I’ll do in MS paint. They don’t let her out in the yard during the day. They’re not the best troops, but there’s a good number of armed guards. From what I see, we’ve only one realistic option.”

  Tosser wrote down an address and password.

  “I’ll draw it up in a cybercafé and get it to you as soon as I can. You call the keystone cops. I’ll call again in a couple of days.”

  “I will Tosser, well done.”

  She went back to see Crutch again, earlier this time. During the visit she said she had to use the toilet and took a wrong turn, she was exploring. It was all memorised, the layout, any camera’s and of course personnel.

  Later in the city, Tosser walked into a cafe with PCs and internet access. She paid and was allocated a machine. She set to work and finally attached the Paint file to an email and saved it as a draft. She sent a text to Dubai. “Over to you Silky, the file is attached.”

  SILK PURSE ENTERED the British embassy in Dubai.

  “I’m here to see the trade attaché.”

  She was taken to his office. He was, of course, SIS himself.

  “Hi, I need the private room.” She sat at a desk in the secure room and made a call to London.

  “Rudolph. We’ve visited Crutch in jail.”

  “You what?”

  “Later. I’ve sent you a sketch Tosser’s made of the inside layout of the prison.

  I’ve thought about this long and hard. I realise what a big step it is, but I see no alternative. As head of the Middle East section. I’m requesting Operation Nimrod.”

  Rudolph put a hand to his forehead.

  “Bloody hell. Silky, I’ll have to run this past the PM. I’ll get a grilling. Let’s know your reasons.”

  “Rudolph. First, you know we must. Second...”

  He listened and knew she’d got it right. It didn’t make it any easier, this was going to be a bastard. A very risky bastard.

  Chapter 12

  USS Stonewall Jackson.

  “CAN YOU CONFIRM OUR location, CPO Benson?” asked Navigation Officer Nikki Kaminski.

  “Aye Sir, It’s like Grand central station out there. Ships of all kinds and lots of them. Singapore is like a beehive.”

  “Sir.” Nathan looked over at her. She wore a smirk, he tried not to match it.

  “We’re off Singapore. I recommend coming to three hundred degrees in twelve minutes, for the transit of the Malacca Strait.”

  “Call the course change when you think it’s time Kaminski.”

  “Sir.” Nathan sat at the Conn working on his mission computer. Crew eval reports, even on active duty you couldn’t get away this from this stuff. He overheard Kaminski.

  “Benson, what’s the Shang up to?”

  “It made the turn a few minutes ago Sir.”

  “Ok Plansman, right rudder, come to three hundred and make your course steady.”

  “Three hundred aye, Sir.”

  The two Roll-on Roll-off vessels made their way up the strait followed below by the Shang SSN, followed by the USS Stonewall Jackson.

  THE LONG MARCH 08 HEARD the two ships passing and raised her periscope to confirm their identities, satisfied she dived and followed them several miles behind.

  Her sonar officer saluted and reported.

  “Captain Sir. I have a faint unexpected sound. An unknown boat is following the Long March 09. She’s at a similar depth, very hard to track, but I heard her when she turned to make her way up the strait. I can’t identify, all I can say is she’s too quiet to be a nuclear boat.”

  Huang’s eyebrows raised, this was unexpected.

  “I see, it’s possible that it’s a Singapore boat, maybe an Archer Class or maybe one of the new type 218 class from Europe. They’re small and quiet.” It was unexpected, but they were in Singapore’s area of operations. Captain Huang knew that the city state was not to be under
estimated, well equipped and well trained, they were a player in this part of the world.

  “Keep a careful watch on this contact, move closer up. The type 218 isn’t well known in these waters, let’s see if we can get more information on it.”

  BENSON’S WORLD WAS awash with sound, the sea had its own character, part mystery part open book. The cacophony of Singapore was now fading behind. He listened to her, she spoke to few. He was able to black out the thrashing of the two surface ships they followed, also the subtler Shang class boat following them. Biologics were plentiful, shoals of fish, whales and other sounds, he knew they were biologics but what they actually were, he’d no idea. There was something else. After several appearances he became more certain, it had now reached the threshold.

  “Sir,” he turned and spoke to the Captain, “I think I have something. I think it’s artificial.”

  “Where Benson?” asked Nathan.

  “Sir I’m speculating but the tail is picking something up, something intermittent. Lucy’s getting a sniff Sir.”

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know Sir, I’m not sure.”

  “Give me your gut feeling, what do you think it is. Give me your best wild ass guess.”

  Benson was reluctant. But he had to.

  “It maybe something following us. But I could be wrong.”

  “I asked for your gut’s view.” Benson pursed his lips.

  “We may have another boat out there.”

  “Your best guess?”

  “Above fifty percent. That all I’ve got Sir.” Nathan trusted Benson, the man was a fish at times. How to find out? He didn’t want to give the game away, to let the other boat know they’d been rumbled.

  “Weaps, load Pointers in tubes five and six.”

  “Aye Sir.” After a few minutes it was done. The two underwater drones were ready.

  “Sir, we have Pointers Ren and Stimpy loaded.” They always had names Nathan knew, these two were named after the sick and twisted, but must watch, cartoon characters he watched as an early teen. Much to his parents’ annoyance.