by Stephen Makk
“Weaps, I want you to launch Ren and have him take up our position, configure him to sound like us.”
“Sir, flood tube five. Open outer doors. Launch tube five. Reload with Harpoon.”
“Ren is away and holding position right in front of us, Sir.”
“Cut his wire. Plansman come to port, gently on the left rudder. Slow by one fifth.”
USS Stonewall Jackson moved to port and slowed slightly, leaving Ren in position mimicking their sounds. He looked to Benson, the man had his hands over his phones, elbows on his console, eyes shut. He was playing underwater Chess with himself.
“Yes. Sir, I’ve got him. A boat is following Ren, he’s alongside now. The computer library doesn’t know its head from its ass. I’m sixty five percent sure it’s a Shang class, make that seventy.”
Nathan let the Chinese nuke make her way by them up the strait. “Planesman, right rudder slowly now. Benson, let me know when we’re in his wake.” The boat moved quietly, slowly to starboard.
“We’re there Sir, he’s dead ahead, range two miles.”
“Trim fore and aft. Slowly make your depth one five zero feet.”
“One five Aye Sir.” The plainsman pulled back on his yoke. The deck rose upward to the bow.
“Lemineux, stream the communication buoy.”
“Aye Sir.” The buoy rode its way to the surface, Nathan typed out a message
Secure satellite acquisition, Sir.”
“Send this.” He forwarded the file.
PRIORITY RED
R 2713557Z JUL 86 ZY11
STONEWALL JACKSON
CIA-OPS// ID C796TF722//
TO CIA OPS LANGLEY//COMSUBPAC//N18//
NAVAL INTEL OPS/04
MSGID/STONEWALL JACKSON 479/ ACTUAL//
MSG BEGINS:/7
IN MALACCA STRAIT. A SECOND SHANG DETECTED FOLLOWING US, WE ARE NOW FOLLOWING IT. SOON WE WILL BE IN OPEN OCEAN. REQUEST PERMISSION TO USE EXTREME PREJUDICE.
“IF A MAN CONSULTS WHETHER HE IS TO FIGHT, WHEN HE HAS THE POWER IN HIS OWN HANDS, IT IS CERTAIN THAT HIS OPINION IS AGAINST FIGHTING.
ADMIRAL HORATIO NELSON.”
YOUR ORDERS SOONEST PLEASE.
MSG END//
“PLANSMAN HOLD ON THIS course. Rewind the buoy, I think we’ll be needing it again soon.”
USS Stonewall Jackson followed the PLAN SSN below them. On and under the Strait was now a procession. On the surface two cargo ships carrying Iranian, North Korean nukes. Below and behind a Chinese SSN, followed by the underwater drone Ren, who was in turn followed by a second Chinese SSN. Shallow, but trailing the procession was USS Stonewall Jackson. Nathan smiled, he’d bide his time.
He knew that right now Pentagon staff would be running around as though they had a bad case of spiders up the ass.
“Sir, now would be a good time to charge the batteries,” said the XO.
“Ok, do it.”
“Come to periscope depth, raise the mast.”
Larry signalled Engineering.
“Snorkel raised. Charge the banks.” The Twin Detroit diesels started and drove the Taiyo electric Ltd generator. Recharging of the Li-ion batteries was underway.
Nathan turned and walked aft. “Weaps, you have the Conn. XO, Kaminski, war committee.”
Nathan returned to the Wardroom via the Galley with three coffees.
They sat at the table. “You heard, I asked for permission to get rough with the PLAN. Either they will, or they won’t give us permission. First, let’s assume they do, we’re outnumbered by two good boats. How do we win?” Nikki stood and started to pace the room, Larry rolled his eyes. “Why will I not like this?”
She ignored him. “It’s simple. We just outnumber them.”
“And how, Miss Victoria’s secret, do we do that?” asked the XO.
She grinned, “Have you been peeking?” She placed her palms on the table and looked at her senior officers.
“We get the Chinese to ask. Who let the dogs out?” She went on to explain her plan.
Nathan nodded. “I’ll buy that, it’s risky. But I’ll buy it.
Now, what if they don’t allow us to get down and dirty with the PLAN?”
The XO scowled.
“If they don’t want the job done we can take a long run ashore in India. Beaches, the Taj Mahal. In truth, we follow the ships and two SSN’s across the big sea. Ren can’t make it all the way so we’ll have to operate in a relay. That is, if the second SSN doesn’t suss out that he’s being fooled.”
“I know it’ll be a pig of a voyage, they’ll probably learn about us and it’ll be cat and mouse all the way to the Gulf.”
“Yeah and then we get to do our thing,” said Nikki.
“Ok. Plan Malacca and plan Gulf,” said Nathan, “one’s a surprise in a fairly constricted area. One’s not a surprise and the opposition has the help of the Iranian forces. Guess which they’ll pick?”
“Let me think?’ said Nikki rubbing her chin.
“Ok, we work on plan Malacca. If it’s plan Gulf we have time to work that one out.”
The three of them were well into working out plan Malacca when there was a knock at the door.
A communications PO put her head around the door.
“Sir, a communication’s here for you.”
“Transfer it to my tablet PO Muntezz.”
“Sir.” A couple of minutes later it arrived. Nathan read it and sighed.
“Plan Gulf.”
“Goddamn pussies,” said Nikki.
Nathan walked into the control room.
“Weaps, how long has Ren got?”
“He’ll have to be back in fifty minutes.”
“Ok get Stimpy ready, send him to relieve Ren when needed.”
He’d keep up the pretence that they were following the PLAN SSN by using the Pointers as long as he could. Then it would be three boats searching for each other playing blind man’s bluff and loosely following the ships across the Indian Ocean and up the Arabian Sea. What a fucking farce.
DUBAI. UNITED ARAB Emirates.
SHE CLIMBED UP THE steps from the pool and walked topless in the midday sun back to the changing room. Most of the Arabic women were topless or naked. There were several western women laid out or swimming in the women’s only pool. Silk Purse left the poolside, she dressed for public display including her headscarf. Picking her bag up she noticed there was a message on her cell phone. She called back.
“Hi Silky. All wrapped up and covered there?”
“Actually Rudolph, I’ve been topless for a while among naked and topless Arabic women.”
“Yeah right, me too.”
“It’s a woman’s only, open-air pool.”
“Oh Ok. Tonight, Silk Purse. It’s on, Operation Nimrod. Write this down.”
She took out a pen and paper.
“25.056N, 55.409E, be there at twenty fifteen hours. I’ve sent you a basic plan. Email it to Tosser’s throw away account and let her know.”
“Thanks Sir.”
“I had to eat a shit sandwich to secure this. Good luck.”
That night she left the city behind her and drove out into the desert along the E66. Next stop Al Faqua sixty kilometres away. She checked the sat tracker, another two kilometres she pulled up by the side of the road and set out walking away from the road through scrubland, a torch helped her find her way. After two kilometres she checked the sat tracker and stopped. All around was blackness, the lights of the city to the north were just visible. The road she’d left was hidden behind a berm. It felt isolated and distant, dark but with a warm breeze. Silk Purse wore a jacket and jeans with light boots and a dust mask, like a ski mask but this would keep the sand away. She waited for long dark and quiet minutes. Had there been a screw up, had there been a failure in communications? From the west, she heard a beating throbbing sound in the air. She held up the torch and waved it in the direction of the sound. Soon a helicopter was pulling down for a landing, sand and dust whirled about, shrubs leaned
and shook in the downdraft. A door was pulled open, a helmeted crewman beckoned. Silk Purse approached it, before she climbed in she saw US Navy stencilled on the fuselage. She was pulled in and was strapped down by the crewman. The helicopter pulled up and away. The crewman handed her a helmet and plugged in the communications jack.
“Welcome aboard Mam, we’re out of here. It’s about fifty minutes flight to Mother.”
“Hi, and who’s Mother?”
“USS Mason Mam, an Arleigh Burke class Destroyer. She’s waiting offshore, north of here. Anything you want? Water?”
“No, I’m OK.” Forty minutes later the helicopter started to descend, a ship’s flight deck came into view and they landed with a noticeable bump, the door was opened, and she was led away to a doorway. The inside of the ship was quiet and clean.
“This way Mam.” She was led down a companionway to a reasonably large room. There were ten soldiers looking like some science fiction warriors. They wore CAM cream on their faces. All manner of devices were strapped to their arms and legs. They wore black figure hugging Kevlar looking suits. One stepped forward.
“Evening Mam, I’m Lieutenant T. US Navy Seals. I’m leading Operation Nimrod.”
“Hi, call me Silky.”
“Sarge E, get Silky dressed. We can’t have her on the Objective looking like a civvy.”
“OK Mam, Silky, get out of that first.” She took off her Top, Jeans and boots and was down to her underwear.
“Here, put this on and here are your boots.” The suit was similar to the ones they wore, and the black boots came half way up her shins. She smiled, given half a chance she’d try to keep this gear, it’d get looks down at her local pub or at work. Silky thought it was a sci-fi version of Cat woman and Laura Croft. Next, he applied the CAM cream to her face and gave her a helmet.
“Try this, you’ll have to adjust the chin strap.” She noticed they all wore handguns.
“Do I get a gun Sargent?”
“Does she get tooled up T?”
“If she wants to and can use it,” replied the Lieutenant.
He led her to a bench full of all manner of weapons.
“I’ll take that Beretta 92, I’ve used one before.”
She put on the belt and holster and slipped the pistol into it. The Sargent fastened up the leg strap and slipped in several spare magazines.
“She’s all set Sir.”
“Sargent. Can I have two Berettas?”
“Two?”
“One’s for Tosser, she’s one of ours and she’s on the Objective now.” He put another belt and pistol hanging to her left and slipped more magazines into a leg pocket.
“OK. I CAN SEE THAT’S us we’re ready to rock,” said Lieutenant T.
He got them all together.
“Listen up. I’m not a big one on the speeches, you’ve seen the plan and we’ve discussed it. Silky here is with a friendly intelligence service as are the two on the Objective. We’re here to get the spooks out of the shit. Not that that’s a first. I’m in bird one, Prairie dog one, leading squad Green, we’ll blow down the doors and clear any resistance. Prairie dog two will infil Squad Orange under Sargent E who’ll go in and retrieve the subjects. Silky the spook, will join them as she knows the subjects. Both birds will exfil and fly low back to Mother. We’ll have top cover, two plastic bugs, better known to you Frogmen as F/A18 Hornets flying from the Carl Vinson. Their call sign’s are Vultures one and two. We are Tadpole.
I said I wasn’t big on speeches, but this is Rickerson’s first Op. As you ladies know, we can’t go in unless we’ve all said the Seal’s creed in front of our peers. Rickerson get to it.”
A very nervous young soldier stepped up and to the jeers of his comrades he started.
“I’ve been around the world twice, talked to everyone once, seen two whales fuck, been to three world fairs, and I even know a man in Thailand with a wooden cock.
Push more peter, more sweeter and more completer than any other peter pusher around. I’m a hard bodied, hairy chested, rootin, tootin, shootin, parachutin, demolition double cap crimping, Frogman.
There ain’t nothing I can’t do, no sky too high, no sea to rough, no muff too tough.
Learnt a lot of lessons in my life, never shoot a large calibre man with a small calibre bullet. Drive all kinds of truck 2 bys, 4 bys, 6 bys, those big motherfuckers that bend and go tshhhh, tshhhh, when you step on the breaks.
Anything in life worth doing, is worth overdoing, moderation is for cowards.
I’m a lover, I’m a fighter, I’m a UDT Navy Seal Diver, I wine, dine, intertwine and sneak out the back door when the revealing is done.
So, if you’re feeling froggy you better jump because this Frogman’s been there, done that, and is going back for more. Cheers Boys!”
“You’re shit.” “Pussy.” The insults flowed.
“Ok team, let’s go,” said the Lieutenant.
The Seal team walked aft to the Hanger deck where two MH-60S Sea Hawks spooled up their engines. Rotors turned and the Seals and Silky climbed in. She was sat in a chair mounted on one side of the fuselage and strapped in. She now wore her helmet and the crew and Seal team’s voices were piped into her ear phones. New sounds and vibration built up and the first Helicopter took off. Then Silky felt the Sea Hawk leave the hanger deck and it lifted fast away into the darkness.
“Prairie dog two outbound.” The two helicopters flew north towards the Iranian coast. She became aware of the sea below as her eyes became accustomed to the low light level. They flew for thirty-five minutes when the call came from one of the flight crew up front.
“Prairie dog two, feet dry.” They were now over the coast and flying into Iran. She could see the land below and thought they were at one hundred to one forty feet altitude. She saw a few roads and the lights from vehicles. Fifteen minutes later they slowed and descended tail down until the undercarriage touched down. The doors slid open and everybody climbed out. A Seal seemed to stick with her as she didn’t know the operation. Everybody jogged over the scrubby dusty ground toward distant lights. It became hard work, she was no Seal, but she kept up. They entered the city and ran down narrow streets, somebody had studied the way. The locals looked up in surprise, some called out comments. Nobody seemed alarmed, maybe they thought the soldiers were their own. Up ahead she heard a loud bang followed by gunfire, the gunfire sounded as though it was from inside a building. To her left a radio sparked to life, the men pulled to a stop.
“Squad Orange from Green, over.”
“Squad Orange reading you.”
“Phase one cleared. On phase two now, over and out.” The squad pressed on, Silky was breathing heavily now. Left down a back street, turn a corner down another back street. A young couple were stood in a doorway kissing, her long black loose Jilbab covering all of her body was pulled up to her chest, the boy’s hands were up under the garment over her breasts.
“Get her buns bouncing off the door son,” one of the Seals called out. The couple panicked. The Seals ran on, they turned and ran down a long street. They ran out onto a broad avenue and turned right. There was Rannediff jail. They got close, two police cars pulled up to a stop. Three policemen got out and shouted something, the Seals carried on towards the jail. One of the policemen shouted again. A Seal turned. “Up yours, Goddamn ragheads.” A shot was fired by one of the policemen. Silky heard it wiz by overhead, then another closer. Two Seals turned and got down on one knee. Crack, crack, crack.” The police returned fire.
“Waste the shit.” A stream of bullets from two M4 carbines riddled the policemen and they fell.
“Any hits?” said Sargent E.
“I took one, in the arm. It skimmed me. I’m ok.”
“Right let’s get in there, there’ll be more of the goons coming now.” They ran into the doorway. Squad Green had cleared the section. They ran through a small courtyard. Automatic fire came from the right. The Seals found cover as best they could and returned fire.
“Jogger, flank em.” Came a call. The Seal with Silky moved to the right behind a truck pulling her with him.
“Get your pistol out. Use it if you have too, we’re going into the right side of them. Move.” He ran into a shadow she followed him.
“I’m not a Seal,” said Silky.
“I can see that, but the ragheads can’t shoot the fuckers before they shoot you.”
Silky pursed her lips and shook her head. She was deep in the shit now. Too frigging deep she knew. She squeezed the Beretta.
“Shit.” She’d no choice now, no choice at all.
Chapter 13
The Seal ran up to the right-hand side of a black wooden door. “Come on.” He beckoned her and pointed to the left of the door. She ran over and stood against the wall next to the door. What the hell am I doing here? she thought. I’m not a bloody soldier. Jogger kicked the door down and turned in, letting off a hail of bullets. More fire came back from inside.
“There’s a few of them. Time to earn your pay spook.” He threw in a thunderflash. She heard it rolling across the floor, more fire came out of the room. The Thunderflash went off with a loud bang and a flash. Jogger turned and ran into the room.
Silky squeezed her pistol grip. “Shit.” She ran into the room, Jogger was firing at the stunned men. In his gun flash she saw a man to the left, he seemed to be getting his head back together. He raised his rifle. She worked on instinct, she pointed the pistol at his head and pulled the trigger twice as she been told. Crack, Crack. During training it had been on a target range, here the man’s head was blown to one side and a grey red mess splattered the wall. She spotted another coming around and fired twice. The top of his head disappeared and flew against the wall, a greasy mess that had been his brain ran down the wall. Jogger had wasted four of them to the right.
“Good shooting Silky, keep givin em the good news. Next room.” He kicked another door down and ran in. He almost dropped a man until he realised it was another of the team. The Lieutenant shouted. “Into the jail. Now, now, now.” Two Seals pushed the door open and ran down the corridor, a door opened to the right and a hail of bullets peppered the walls. Jogger and Silky ran in after them. More rounds flew down towards the prison guards, a man wriggled as the M4 rounds walked up him, from his groin to his head. He fell in a rag dolls twitching death. “On. Go, go.” Shouted Sargent E. They ran down the corridor, more guards came from a door to the right. She was two yards from them, they’d waited until the Seals ran by them. They were going to get them from behind, she glanced at Jogger, he looked the other way at another doorway. She lifted the Beretta 92 and fired four rounds. Crack, crack. Crack, crack. The men’s heads blew back and they slid down the wall, a trail of blood messy behind them. What she thought, I missed one. Then she saw the blood weeping out from two bloody holes he’d called his eye sockets. She’d plugged him in both of his eyes.
