B004V9FYIY EBOK

by Unknown

  Butler nodded. “Ok, how are you going to alert people if there is a problem?”

  “Blow this whistle sir. If I do that the Marines will send a squad.”

  Butler smiled. “Then blow away son.”

  The young man nodded and put the whistle to his lips. Within three minutes there was a group of heavily armed Marines running down the street. Weapons were drawn and ready. For a short time Hammond thought they would be shot. But the sentry waved them over and after a few words the Marines seemed to relax although their rifles never turned away. A few minutes after that the Command Duty Officer, LCDR Macke came into view. “Ok, what’s going on,” he asked.

  “My fault Commander,” said Butler showing his ID again. The White House badge had its desired effect. The officer straightened and became more formal. “I need something and need it in a hurry. This seemed the quickest way to get things going,” Butler said.

  “What can we get you, Captain?”

  “It’s going to seem a little strange, but I need every ET you have with all the working gear to get over to the Barry. I also need the Barry opened up and access to all the spaces. I will probably also need some electricians to make sure we have power and a couple of runners to get things we may not have. And Commander, I need these things right now.”

  Macke looked around him and thought for a second. This man had the authority, but he needed to let people know what was going on. There was also the problem of getting the people together. It only took a moment. “Ok people, listen up.” He started pointing at the men standing there. “You, rouse the duty electrician and tell him to get over to the Barry with his gear. If he needs help, wake anyone he needs. You, get over to the communications shop and tell them to rouse all the ETs we have and get over to the Barry with their gear. I especially want Master Chief Garza in on this.” He pointed to another, “You find Lieutenant Collins and get him down there ASAP. Then you take my compliments to the Commandant. Tell him that the White House Attaché has asked to do something aboard the Barry. Tell him I have accompanied Captain Butler to the ship with the rest of the Marines and will let him know what happens through runners. Now go,” he said, and the last man took off at a run. He turned to the rest of the squad. “Ok guys, you follow us to the ship.” Then he turned to Butler. “You walkin’ or ridin’ sir?”

  “We’ll all ride,” said Hammond popping the trunk. “Climb on guys, it’s quicker this way.” The men climbed into the back seat and the trunk, and then Hammond started the car and pulled out toward the Barry.

  USS Barry was a destroyer built in the late 1950s and after many years of service she was decommissioned and brought to the Washington Navy Yard as a museum piece. Only a couple of lights shown on her as the men drove up. Hammond stopped the car and the men piled out. Macke pulled out his keys and opened the gate. “OK, where are we going?” he asked.

  “Radio,” Hammond said as he and Butler went past him.

  A questioning look came over Macke’s face. “Ok, but I don’t know what you plan on doing there. It’s not operational.”

  The men entered the ship through the forward athwartships passageway, turning on lights as they went, and then up one deck to the radio compartment. There was Plexiglas over a portion of the door. Inside the old radio equipment sat in its racks exactly as it had when the ship was in commission. Only a few open areas in the racks showed where the more classified gear had been removed. The door was locked.

  “You have a key?” Butler asked.

  “Sorry, just access to the ship. When Lieutenant Collins gets here he has all the keys.”

  “Then I guess we wait,” Butler said leaning against the bulkhead.

  “You mind telling me what you plan on doing in there? Macke asked.

  Hammond answered. “You know how we got plastered, right?”

  Macke nodded.

  “Well, the EMP knocked out all our high tech gizmos.” He pointed into the room. “You see anything high tech in there?”

  “In there? It’s probably all vacuum tubes, and …” suddenly his eyes grew wider. “Shit,” he said as the realization hit him. He turned to one of the Marines. “Go wake up the rest of the radio crew including Senior Chief Hayes. I need people who know this gear and people who can send Morse. Then have somebody get some IC-men over here. From here on in, this is our base of operations. Make it fast, Marine.”

  “Yes, sir,” the young woman said as she turned and sped down the passageway.

  “I don’t know where the IC shop is on this thing,” he said. “But I do know it used dial telephones. I can make something of this.”

  Butler smiled at Hammond. “I think we have a true believer,” he chuckled. Hammond nodded.

  Footsteps sounded from up the passageway and Master Chief Garza rounded the corner. The Master Chief recognized LCDR Macke and smiled. “What the hell, Commander,” he said. “I was just getting ready to hit the sack when a Marine shakes me loose.”

  “Master Chief, we need your expertise,” Butler said extending his hand. “What do you know about the equipment in this room?” he asked.

  You could tell the Master Chief thought it was a joke. “That stuff?” he shook his head. “I haven’t worked on that kind of gear for at least 20 years.”

  “But you do know how to get it online.”

  The Master Chief rubbed the stubble on his chin and gave a sigh. “Yes sir, I guess so. I remember slaving over this stuff up through second class, and it was in all the training courses I had to take. I can run down to the old ET shop and see if the schematics are available for all this stuff. If not, I guess I can wing it a little. What do you want to try and bring online first?”

  “Let’s bring up the HF transmitter and receiver first. Even if we only have the key, it’s better than nothing,” Hammond chimed in.

  “Do you think this will make a difference, sir?” the Master Chief asked.

  “Chief, if this works, it will probably be the only way we can communicate with the rest of the world for a while. If we can get most of this gear working, we might be able to talk to the fleet,” Hammond said.

  “Then let’s get it working sir,” the Master Chief grinned.

  Lieutenant Collins and an array of sailors and technicians came in a minute later. The doors were opened and the people poured into the rooms, uncovering equipment and searching for manuals. The two high frequency transmitters were located on the back bulkhead. They were nondescript lumps of steel cabinet with a couple of gauges on the front. The Master Chief opened the front and stared at the inner workings. The old tubes were dusty, but still solidly in place. He pulled out a rag and cleaned each one. Then he took his pocket meter and checked for power. The circuit was dead. “The first thing we need to do is get power up here, Lieutenant.”

  Collins turned to one of the sailors who took off toward the engine rooms and the main switchboard. Three minutes later, the meter jumped to read 220 volts. By then, one of his team had returned from the old ET shop with some old technical manuals and test equipment. The Master Chief set up the equipment and continued checking circuits in the old transmitter.

  That was when Rear Admiral Rich Thacke walked into the room. He was in civilian clothes and obviously just out of bed. His normally perfectly groomed hair was a mess and his clothes wrinkled, but his demeanor told everyone an admiral had just arrived. He scanned the people with his eyes and settled on Butler. Then a small grin appeared on his face. He and Butler had worked together on several occasions involving the White House and even during some fleet operations. Thacke was an operator – meaning he knew ships and men and how to get the jobs done. His respect went to other operators. He and Butler had hit it off very well. “Jim, what the hell have you got all my people doing around here? Last I heard this was not part of your territory.” Thacke was a hard nosed officer that liked things by the book. He knew right away that Butler wouldn’t be here unless it was important. If it had been anyone else, he would have chewed them up and spit them out. Of
course he also knew who the Captain represented.

  Butler introduced Hammond and then laid out their ideas. After a few minutes the Admiral nodded. “That’s a good idea. If we can get some phone lines set up like I was told by Macke, this ship could act as a comm center for the whole area. How long do you think it should take, Master Chief?”

  “Not too long sir,” he said from inside the cabinet.

  The admiral nodded. “Okay then, if I’m up, let’s get cracking.” He called over a sergeant and told him to get up the cooks. One of the things Thacke was famous for was making sure the workers were taken care of. Within 30 minutes there was hot coffee and some pastries for people to snack on.

  It took nearly an hour, and the temperature in the space became sweltering, but the old Master Chief and two of his crew finally stood up and grinned. “I think we’re ready here,” he said. Then he turned to another man working on some other equipment. “Is that thing set up yet?” he barked.

  A First Class Petty Officer closed the front of a small box and flipped the switch. A red light came on the front panel. He had already attached a microphone to the set. “Hang on a sec,” he said as he walked over to a small switchboard and reset some knobs. “This should do it, Master Chief. You all set?”

  The Master Chief nodded. “You sure those guys got the antenna hooked up?

  “Yea, Master Chief. I watched them bolt the lead on myself, and the line was tested before they set it up. You should be ready to go.”

  The Master Chief looked back at the old transmitter and smiled. It was sitting in stand-by. The old tubes had warmed up and glowed like new. When he checked the test points, they were pretty close to their calibration settings. He ran his hand over the now warm cabinet and turned to the admiral, who was munching on a cookie. He held up the microphone.

  The admiral shook his head. “Give it to Captain Butler.”

  The Master Chief handed Butler the mike. “You want to do the honors?”

  Butler took the microphone and the room got silent as every eye turned toward him. He keyed the mike. “Any station this net, any station this net, this is USS Barry, USS Barry, over.” He waited a moment for a reply. He then repeated his call. “Any station this net, any station this net, this is USS Barry, USS Barry, over.”

  Suddenly a voice crackled over the speaker with a pronounced British accent. “USS Barry, this is His Majesty’s Naval Base Portsmouth, I read you loud and clear, over.”

  A cheer rang out through the old radio room as the reply came in. The men slapped each other on the back with congratulations. In the midst of the congratulations Butler keyed the mike again. “Portsmouth, this is USS Barry at the Washington Navy Yard, Captain Butler speaking. We are establishing communications and request you maintain a watch on this frequency. Also, can you notify Whitehall that we have established this circuit so we can maintain communications for the near future? As we get more equipment online we will use this circuit for coordination, over.”

  Another voice came on the line. “USS Barry this is Captain Longwood. I am fully aware of your situation and will set things up from this end. Do you have the capability of encryption, over?”

  “This is Captain Butler. Not at present; however, if you understand about our situation, you will know the difficulties we face. We may have to use one time ciphers initially or the Allied Signals Book, ATP-1. We need to get organized on this end, over.”

  “Roger, Captain. We are standing by for any changes. If there is any way to give us the nomenclature of the eventual equipment or code, my people will be ready to match it. I have the ATP-1 available when usable, over.”

  “Thank you, Captain. We will relay equipment requirements via the Prime Minister’s office, over.”

  “Very good, Captain. We will be standing by here if you need us, over.”

  “Thank you, Captain, we will be back shortly, out,” he said. He hung the mike in its holder. “Well, we are in business,” he said to the admiral.

  The admiral clapped him on the shoulder. Then he turned to Collins. “I want a 24-hour watch in here in case we get a call. I have a feeling that this is going to be a busy place for a while.” Then he addressed the Master Chief. “How long before you get the rest of this gear up?”

  “It will take a couple of days, Admiral,” he said. “We need to weed through the sets and see what will work. Voice and key will be okay, but there aren’t any encryption units here. They were all taken off. I may even have some sideband stuff up later on, sir. I will get people on it right now.”

  “Good enough, Master Chief. Nice job tonight. It’s vitally important to get as much of this equipment online as we can,” he said. “I appreciate your hard work,” he added smiling at the man.

  The old Master Chief smiled back. “Our pleasure, Admiral.”

  Then the admiral turned back toward Lt. Collins. “Lieutenant, let’s see about reactivating some air conditioning over here. As a matter of fact, let’s see about opening up a berthing space or two and the galley. The old girl may never get underway again, but if we are using her as a command center, then we might as well go all the way. I think we have a couple of those big portable a/c units over in a warehouse. If we hook them into the blower system we might get by. See to it.”

  The Lieutenant said “yes sir” and left to get more people out of bed.

  Now the admiral turned back to Butler and Hammond. Both looked like they had been dragged through a grinder. He figured Butler hadn’t slept in a few days. “Jim, you and Roger get the hell out of here, I got a base to run. You’re going by the White House to tell the President?”

  They nodded.

  “Good. You tell the man I’ll have a fully operational center here in two days. If he can get one of those Army jokers to run us a phone line, I will hook it up to this system. I’ll even scrounge around some of these old warehouses and see if I can scare up some more gear. No matter what, we will be ready,” he said with a determined look. Then he softened. “Damn good job, Jim. You and Roger got it nailed. Now go on and leave things to me,” he said patting Butler’s arm.

  The two men bid the admiral farewell and climbed back into the Olds. It was a short trip back to the White House. An hour later both men were sound asleep in their beds.

  Chapter 3

  March 24 - Changes

  Washington, D.C.

  The President fell into a fitful sleep after Butler and Hammond left. With all that was on his mind, he just couldn’t get into a deep sleep. So it was not surprising that, when the Secret Service agent entered the room to wake him, the President was found shaving in his bathroom. To the agent, the President looked tired – bone tired. The circles under his eyes appeared deeper and more pronounced. He even slouched in front of the mirror as he dragged the razor across his lathered chin. Despite this, the President smiled up at the agent and gave a slight wave of his hand, still holding the razor. That was one of the things that endeared the President to the agents in his detail. Despite any problems going on, the President always seemed to find the time to be pleasant and personable. He rarely lashed out at anyone, and at least so far, he hadn’t buckled at Agency restrictions. He was a genuinely nice guy.

  “Can I get you anything, Mister President?” the agent asked.

  “No, thanks Bill,” the President answered with a smile again. He also took time to find out their names. “I’ll be down for the usual in about 10 minutes.”

  “Yes, sir,” the agent said, turning and leaving the room. The “usual,” meant coffee and some sort of pastry. Not a great breakfast, but at least it was something. He went back to his station relaying the message to the watch commander. He could tell by her grunt that his watch commander wasn’t too pleased with the “usual” either.

  After shaving and putting on the normal business suit, the President left his quarters and, picking up his detail, made his way to one end of the second floor where they had set up the dining table for the meeting he had called the night before. The table wa
s actually set at the end of the house in front of the large windows. As he walked down the hall he could see the early morning sunlight shining through the curtains. Mark Reeder, his Chief of Staff was pacing beside the table, lecturing two other men. As he got closer, he could see it was Captain Butler and Commander Hammond. The sound of the Chief of Staff’s voice was raised. He slowed a moment to catch the conversation before he got too close.

  “I don’t ever want either of you two going behind me again to the President. My job is to make sure he gets the right information from the right sources, not from two people who don’t have any idea of the political repercussions of their actions,” he said tersely. Butler sat quietly. He was evidently used to such tirades. Hammond wasn’t.

  “As I recall, you weren’t here,” said Roger in a steady voice.

  The Chief of Staff almost exploded. “My whereabouts are of no concern to you or anyone else!” he nearly shouted. “As it was, I was busy walking from my home in Maryland to get here.”

  “So no one can talk to the President until you make your way?” Hammond questioned.

  “Listen, Mister Hammond. I don’t need you questioning me or anyone else in the White House. I have a political situation here in which you have NO say. I want you and Captain Butler out of here right now. I will give your apologies to the President. And Mister Hammond, I’ll thank you never to even visit the White House again,” he said turning beet red in the face. Then he turned and pointed at Captain Butler. “And you will be reassigned tomorrow. I suggest you start cleaning out your desk!”

  “You are so full of shit.”

  The Chief of Staff turned in a rage to Hammond again. Hammond sat in his chair and glared back.

  “I have better time than to listen to someone who is so intent on pressing his own agenda he doesn’t see people trying to help. It’s people like you who helped me make the decision to leave my job. Well, for your information this isn’t a political situation, it is a military situation. Someone used weapons of mass destruction against our cities day before yesterday and probably killed off a couple of million people. We are at war with someone and we better start getting ready to knock heads. It was the two of us who got you the first form of communication last night, and the two of us who will probably get things started towards winning this war. So you can either get on the wagon, or you can find yourself some hole to crawl into while the leadership gets things underway. You’re right about one thing, I don’t know politics. I have no idea what you guys do and quite frankly don’t care. I’m just a civilian taxpayer who knows what he and his neighbors think. And right now we want to know what happened and what we’re doing about it. As for me, hand me a rifle so I can go shoot the son-of-a-bitch who did this.”