Laura 02 The God Code

by Anton Swanepoel

  “USS Enterprise, this is Viper One, requesting rescue of four souls.”

  “Viper One, this is USS Enterprise, we have you on radar. Ten miles out, eject as you pass us, two rescue helicopters already launched.”

  “Roger that Enterprise.”

  “Victor, are you ready?”

  “Yeah man, let’s go for it, it’s going to be fun.”

  “Crazy Saffer,” comments Ernest over the radio.

  “Viper Two, good to go?”

  “Viper Two ready,” responds John.

  Pieter takes the lead and levels the jet off at 200 feet, 60 feet more than the lowest ejection altitude for the seat fitted to the jet. He steers his jet past the carrier on the port side and pushes the eject button just after passing, giving the carrier time to reach them. John steers his jet past on the starboard side, and also ejects just past the carrier.

  As soon as they are out of the cockpit, the parachutes in their seats open up and the men safely drop into the water, where inflatable flotation tubes automatically deploy, keeping the seats afloat. Seconds after hitting the water, two rescue helicopters fly over them, and eight rescue swimmers drop in the water, two rescue swimmers per man. The well trained swimmers each immediately swim to their designated target, decided upon before they jumped from the helicopters, and help the men from their ejection seats. After all men are free, the swimmers use waterproof radios attached to the top of their jackets to call in the helicopters. One by one each man is lifted from the ocean.

  Victor and Pieter get attended to by the first rescue helicopter while Ernest and John get attended to by the second rescue helicopter.

  As the last rescue swimmer on Victor’s helicopter is brought out of the water, the winch suddenly starts smoking and breaks. The winch starts running freely, dropping the swimmer back down into the ocean. Victor stares in horror as the man falls back down right onto one of the ejection seats, knocking him unconscious. The pilot tries to slowly lift the man out of the water by letting the helicopter climb, but somehow his harness is entangled on the ejection seat. The weight of the ejection seat is pulling on the man’s harness, and will break his body if they lift him up.

  “Cut the cable and drop a swimmer in now.” The pilot’s voice is stern and the cable operator immediately takes cutters placed by the winch for that job, and cuts the cable. Immediately two rescue swimmers drop into the ocean and swim towards their team member.

  “Enterprise, Rescue One. We have three souls to be picked up, our winch is not operational, returning to ship. Send Rescue Two back to pick them up as soon as they have dropped off their people.”

  “Roger that Rescue One.”

  The pilot waits for the second rescue helicopter to drop Ernest and John off first and return to pick up the other men, before landing on the deck. Ernest and John walk over to Victor and Pieter, but before anyone can speak they are approached by four officers, one of which looks very annoyed. He looks to be in his early 50s, and seems to command great respect from the men around him as he walks.

  “I am Fleet Admiral Tom Walker, Commander of the US Navy, what is all this horseshit about?”

  Before anyone can react, Victor comments, “That is classified information Admiral.”

  There is a deadly silence, and everyone looks at Fleet Admiral Walker, who is red in the face from anger. With great control he responds, “Son, you will address me as Fleet Admiral, and you are now on a US Navy ship under my command, you better remember that, now once more, what is your mission?”

  “And you better remember that we are here under direct orders from the US President,” Victor responds without backing down. The two men hostilely glare at each other.

  “Are you insane?” Ernest whispers into Victor’s ear, and then continues out loud, “Apologies Fleet Admiral, he is a civilian, may I have a word with him Sir?”

  Admiral Walker nods, and Ernest pulls Victor by the arm away from the men. As soon as they are out of earshot, he continues, “Have you forgotten your manners?! That is the freaking Fleet Admiral! He is the highest commanding rank in the fleet.”

  Victor calmly puts his right hand on Ernest’s shoulder before answering jokingly, “You have much to learn young Padawan.”

  “This is not a joke, this is serious!”

  “Ernest, you are a Seal commander, your life depends on trusting the command above you. I am an assassin and spy, my life depends on trusting no one. Now, think for a moment, the Vice President is involved in this plot, who are you certain about that you can trust? I mean, have you actually met the Fleet Admiral before?”

  “No…but-‘

  “Furthermore, a Fleet Admiral of all men will know about classified information. If he was not told about the mission, then he sure as hell will know it is top secret. If he wants to know, he will not go asking us to divulge our mission in front of a group of deck hands, now would he?”

  “Shit, you’re right, he would take us to his cabin to discuss the mission. He would be alone, or maybe have only his second in command there with him.”

  “My point exactly, something is wrong here.”

  Nodding to each other, Victor and Ernest rejoin the group.

  “So, what is your mission?”

  “Apologies Sir, but that is classified and I cannot give you any information about it.” This time it is Ernest that responds.

  “Very well then, you are not leaving this ship. Ensign Neil, take them to the brig.”

  “Yes Sir,” Neil responds and snaps his fingers at two armed service men standing behind him, who immediately approach Victor and Ernest.

  Before anyone can react, Victor jumps forward and punches the first guard in the throat, then kicks the second guard in the groin. As the second man bends forward from the pain, Victor pulls the man’s service pistol from its holster. Spinning around Victor grabs Admiral Walker in a choke hold and puts the gun to his head, then addresses the Fleet Admiral. “So Admiral, are you involved in this plot as well?”

  “Men, kill this maniac!” is the Fleet Admiral’s only response.

  “This is a clusterfuck Victor,” Ernest responds, but has already moved forward and taken the second armed service man’s gun from its holster. Suddenly an alarm sounds all over the ship and an armed response team of 20 men comes running onto the flight deck, weapons at the ready.

  “Drop the weapons now!” one of the men shouts, clearly the leader of the response team.

  “No can do mate. Call the second in command of this boat,” Victor responds.

  “Drop the weapons or we will open fire!”

  “You are an idiot, call the second in command of this boat.”

  “It is not a boat, it is a nuclear powered aircraft carrier, the largest in the world, and this is your last warning, drop your weapons or we open fire.” The response team’s leader makes ready to fire by carefully aiming at Victor. His men follow and cover both Victor and Ernest.

  “Hey numnut, you may get me, but are you sure I will not be able to pull the trigger and kill your Admiral?” Victor is playing for time, if only they can get a second officer on deck to defuse the situation. The team leader thinks for a second, then decides to take the shot. Slowly he squeezes the trigger.

  “Stand down!” The voice behind the team leader gives him such a fright that he jerks the gun at the moment that he pulls the trigger, changing his aim. The bullet catches Fleet Admiral Walker in the right shoulder. Luckily no one else fires.

  “Shit!” is the leader’s only response.

  “What the hell is going on here?! Get a medic to the deck immediately!” Vice Admiral Frank Black demands.

  “Sir, we are on a ‘President’s eyes only’ mission. The Fleet Admiral tried to get the details of the mission from us, and when we refused he commanded that we be detained. Sir, this mission is vital to the safety of America. Speed is of the essence to our mission and we have to continue immediately,” Ernest responds.

  “Continue how?”

  “The two
fighter jets that were supposed to be made ready for us for immediate use.”

  “I am not aware of any such orders. I only know that we were to pick you up after ejecting out of your jets.”

  “Who gave you that information Sir?” Victor replies.

  “Fleet Admiral Tom Walker, the man you are holding hostage.”

  “Well, do you not think it strange that we would drop in on your party and then just sit tanning on the deck? There has to be more, I suggest you call the White House.”

  “Fleet Admiral, Sir, what is this all about?” Vice Admiral Black is clearly confused, pulled between logic and loyalty.

  “Change Frank, change. For far too long America has done too little to stop terrorists from roaming free. We aim to take the fight to them, take the war to their doorstep. Join us, we will make America great again.”

  Sadness fills Vice Admiral Black’s face, and with a heavy heart he replies. “America is already great, Sir. I now relieve you of your duty as commander of this ship and take full command. Men, take the Fleet Admiral to sick bay and keep him under full guard. No one is to see him, except the doctor.”

  Reluctantly the leader of the reaction team nods as he steps forward and waits for Victor to release the Fleet Admiral. Victor releases the Fleet Admiral, and the leader, out of respect for the Fleet Admiral, takes position on the Fleet Admiral’s left side, waiting for Fleet Admiral Walker to walk himself to sick bay. It is just the moment Fleet Admiral Walker is waiting for. Suddenly he goes for the sidearm holstered on the man’s right side and pulls it free. While spinning around, he pulls the pistol’s slide back, loading the pistol.

  With precision he aims the pistol at Vice Admiral Black and pulls the trigger. The unexpected sound of a gunshot makes the men jump from surprise. Vice Admiral Black looks down at his chest, and is confused to find no blood staining his shirt. Did the Fleet Admiral miss? Looking up, he sees Feet Admiral Walker lying on the deck, a gunshot wound to the head.

  “I am sorry it had to come to this,” Victor says, smoke coming from his pistol’s barrel.

  “I am too, thanks for saving my life. Your weapons please.”

  Victor reluctantly hands the pistol over to Vice Admiral Black, and Ernest follows with his.

  Admiral Black hands the two pistols to the reaction team leader, then turns to Victor before speaking. “I do not know about your mission, and it seems that the Fleet Admiral also was not aware of the details of your mission. However, from his reactions it seems that what he planned was going to throw America into war. Thus I take it you are here to stop that from happening, correct?”

  “That is correct,” Victor replies.

  “So, what do you need?”

  “Two Boeing F/A-18F Super Hornets, with external long range fuel tanks, two high altitude parachute rigs, plus two submarine hatch crank handles, Sir,” Pieter replies.

  “Seems like you boys are out to catch some fish. Ensign, you heard them. I want two Super Hornets on the deck now, and take these men to get them geared up for the flight.”

  “Yes Admiral.”

  “And Ensign, have a team secure the Fleet Admiral’s body, and inform the NCIS agent on the ship to report here immediately.”

  “Yes Admiral.”

  ***

  Somewhere in the cold Baltic sea.

  “Captain. Sonar contact is still holding position 10 miles out. Signature consistent with a large fishing trawler, no lines in the water, double screw.”

  Pressing the button on the communication device near the periscope, Captain Duane Barton speaks into the microphone. “Any other contacts detected?”

  “Negative Captain, no other contacts detected at this time.”

  The submarine has some of the most advanced navigation and radar systems onboard, using satellites to track surface vessels at long range. The submarine is still making its way to the rendezvous point. If this is the correct fishing trawler, then they are ahead of schedule. Even so, Captain Barton will not deviate from his orders. If he is ordered to be at a point at a certain time, then that is when he will show up. It is possible that this is not the correct fishing trawler, with the real one miles behind, possibly delayed. It is also possible that the fleet is testing him to see how he handles unexpected changes during a mission. He loves it when the fleet does that, for it is then that he can bring out the best in him and his men. With a smile, he steps forward and gives an order.

  “Number One, make our depth 500 feet and increase speed to 200 knots.”

  “Yes Sir, dive to 500 feet, increase speed to 200 knots.” The second in command repeats the order and listens as the order is repeated back to him from the crew operating the speed and depth controls. Even though the fishing trawler may be early, Captain Barton is determined to be at the rendezvous point first.

  ***

  Victor gives a glance towards Ernest in the jet next to his on the flight deck. Ernest returns the look and nods, before turning his gaze forward. Victor looks at his watch. They are ten minutes behind schedule.

  Hope we can make up the time. If not, the submarine will be gone by the time we get there.

  “Delta Foxtrot One, you are clear for launch,” comes the radio tower operator’s voice over the radio.

  Suddenly Victor’s jet starts shaking as Pieter puts the engines to full power with the jet’s brakes on. Victor remembers Pieter’s briefing. Look forward when the jet takes off. The force of the acceleration will stop you from being able to turn your head forward on takeoff. If you are not looking forward, you may injure your neck. Suddenly Victor is pushed back hard in his seat, the G-force pinning him down, causing him to breathe with difficulty. A few seconds later the jet leaves the runway. Pieter keeps the jet low over the water for a few seconds more while he builds up speed, before pulling back hard on the controls, causing the jet to climb fast.

  “Ever been in a Navy jet before Victor?”

  “Nope.”

  Pieter gets a devious smile on his face when he hears Victor’s reply.

  “Mind if I check if everything is okay, do a few maneuvers?”

  “No problem, do what you need to do to get us there.”

  Victor has no idea what Pieter is planning to do to him. Suddenly Pieter puts the jet in a vertical climb and lets her climb at maximum rate. The jet shakes from the strain as she climbs, but Pieter kicks the afterburners on, increasing the rate of climb. Just as the jet reaches its ceiling, he pulls back hard on the control stick while reducing engine power, causing the jet to descend while being inverted.

  When Pieter thinks Victor has had enough, he barrel rolls the jet a few times while still descending inverted, then dips the nose down and opens up the power, causing the airplane to descend at a rapid pace nose first, while Pieter does a few barrel rolls, flying the jet on the edge. He lets the jet go as fast and as low as he dares before righting the jet and pulling up hard, causing maximum G-force.

  Pieter has been waiting for Victor to say something for a while, but the silence is starting to worry him. Did Victor pass out? Oh crap, I just caused one of the guys who is supposed to save the world to pass out by showboating. Pieter quickly levels off the jet and reduces speed.

  “You can go faster if you want to.” Victor’s voice suddenly coming over the headset causes Pieter to jump in his seat. He half turns in his seat to enable him to look back at Victor, who is busy taking a movie on his cell phone.

  “That was some cool moves you pulled back there, got an awesome video of it, can we do that again, but this time a bit faster?” Victor asks.

  “Negative, we need to conserve fuel.” Pieter shakes his head. Victor cannot be serious; he flew the jet on the envelope. Crazy South African.

  John and Ernest soon catch up with them and the jets climb to cruising altitude where they level off and fly in formation to their destination, a set of coordinates they hope are correct. Pieter calculates the distance to the coordinates, and adjusts their speed to ensure that they are on schedule.


  ***

  One hour later, Captain Darius Jennings stands impatiently on the deck of a fishing trawler. They have been drifting for almost six hours now, waiting for the submarine to surface. The submarines must have detected the fishing trawler long ago, where are they? Impatiently he gives another glance at his wrist watch, two minutes before the planned rendezvous time.

  Annoyed he raises his binoculars and scans the horizon, empty ocean fills his view. Suddenly the ocean comes alive around the trawler and bubbles surround it. No, a fisherman’s tale is all it is, there are no giant ship eating squid. Or are there? Darius reaches for his pistol holstered on his hip. Something is coming up out of the ocean, what is it? Fear floods his body as something long breaks the water right next to the port side of the boat, causing Darius to almost drop the binoculars. A round shiny eye stares at him. Darius relaxes his grip on his pistol. Stupid, he should have expected a submarine periscope. Seconds later the rest of the submarine appears, so precise that there is only two feet of space between the two vessels when the submarine is fully surfaced. Darius gives a sigh of relief as he sees the conning tower hatch open up.

  “Thought you boys were never going to show!” he yells.

  “Your watch must be early!” comes the reply.

  Darius signals to his men to jump aboard and tie the two crafts together. Two more hatches on the deck of the submarine open up and six men climb out, helping to secure the two vessels.

  Darius jumps onto the deck of the submarine and watches as the submarine captain climbs down from the conning tower.

  “Welcome Captain. I am Captain Darius Jennings, how are you doing?”

  “Good to meet you Captain, I am Captain Lawrence Rinehart, CO of the submarine. So, why have you brought us to the middle of nowhere? It must have taken you some time to get here.”

  “Not really, we just completed a critical mission and had to change plans to avoid having sensitive information fall into enemy hands. We procured the fishing trawler and after managing to make contact, were given orders to rendezvous with a submarine here. You are to take us to the US coast.”