empty Pacific Ocean and he's got to run right down our path," he
muttered, shaking his head.
The thought never occurred to him that it was anything more than a
coincidental encounter. Nor would he ever suspect that a trusted
crewman, one of a handful of Kang's men working on board as launch
technicians, was feeding their exact position to the ship using a
simple GPS receiver and portable radio transmitter. After crossing the
length of the Pacific, the Koguryo had picked up the radio transmission
twenty-four hours earlier and vectored in on the Odyssey's path like a
homing pigeon to roost.
As the lights of the unknown ship twinkled off the Odyssey's port stern
in the evening darkness, Hennessey put the ship out of his mind and
focused on the empty blackness before him. They were still nearly ten
days to the equator and there was no telling what other obstacles might
cross their path.
The experienced assault team came quickly, in the dark of night and
with complete surprise. After shadowing the Odyssey for most of the
evening, the Koguryo had suddenly stopped its engines, letting the
self-propelled platform churn on toward the horizon. In the pilothouse
of the Odyssey, the night shift helmsman and watch officer relaxed as
the lights of the other ship fell away. With an autopilot steering the
platform, their only concerns were monitoring the radar screen and
weather forecast. But on an empty sea in the dead of night, there was
little cause for concern. Focus on duty waned as the two men paced the
bridge, engaging in a tireless debate about World Cup soccer rather
than studying the electronic monitors about them. Had either man
watched the radarscope more closely, they would have had an inkling of
things to come.
Far from changing course or making repairs, the Koguryo had stopped to
launch its high-speed tender. The open-decked, thirty-foot boat was a
spacious and luxurious assault craft for Tongju, Kim, and the dozen
other men dressed in black commando outfits who sat brandishing their
assault rifles on leather-cushioned seats. Though low on stealth, the
boat provided a fast and stable means of crossing open water to strike
the platform with an ample attack force.
The tender bounded in darkness across the rolling waves, racing across
the open sea under a bright canopy of stars that spread from horizon to
horizon. The speedy boat quickly gobbled up ground between itself and
the moving platform, which was lit up against the night sky like a
Times Square marquee. As the tender's pilot approached the shadow of
the massive platform, he steered the boat dead center under the
structure, threading the boat between the Odyssey's twin pontoons.
Holding its speed, the boat darted under the platform and past the
thick support columns, barely skimming under a set of massive
triangular supports that horizontally crisscrossed the columns just
twelve feet above the water. Slowing to match speeds with the Odyssey,
he inched toward the forward starboard column, where a salt-encrusted
steel stairway led up to the heights above. When he edged to within a
few feet, one of the commandos leaped from the bow with a small line
and quickly tied it to the stairwell post. One by one, the remaining
commandos jumped onto the stairwell and began the long climb to the
platform above. Pausing at the top steps to catch their breath, the team paused for a moment to regroup
before Tongju nodded his head to proceed. The secure door to the
stairwell had been left unlocked by one of Kang's crewmen already
aboard and the commandos quickly slipped through and fanned out across
the deck.
Though Tongju had studied photos and plans of the Odyssey, he was still
overwhelmed by the massive scale of the launch deck, which stretched
well over a football field in length. At the far end stood the launch
tower, separated by a large tract of open deck that led to the launch
vehicle hangar. Along the recessed starboard beam sat the massive fuel
storage tanks, which would gas up the rocket shortly before launch. On
either side of the launch vehicle hangar stood two small buildings that
housed the crew's quarters, offering accommodations for sixty-eight men
plus a galley and medical station. That would be the first target.
The assault team was primed to strike simultaneously, five men to the
hangar, three to the bridge, and the balance to the crew's quarters.
Most of the forty-two-man crew aboard the Odyssey had little to do
until the platform reached the launch site and spent the hours reading,
playing cards, or watching movies. By 3 a.m." only a handful of men
were still awake, mostly crewmen assigned to sail the platform or
monitor the launch vehicle. When the commandos struck the crew's
quarters with drill precision, the confused technicians and engineers
were too stunned to react. With a blast of light and prodding from the
muzzles of AK-74 assault rifles, the sleeping men were quickly roused
at gunpoint. Two men playing cards in the galley thought it was some
sort of equatorial prank before a swinging rifle butt knocked one to
the floor. A startled chef in the kitchen dropped a stack of pans at
the sight of the armed men, doing more to wake the disbelieving crew
than the gunmen themselves.
In the launch vehicle hangar, it was a similar story. The small
commando team rapidly swept through the air-conditioned building that housed the cradled Zenit rocket, rounding up a handful of engineers
without a fight. On the bridge situated high atop the launch vehicle
hangar, the two men manning the helm couldn't believe their eyes when
Tongju walked in and calmly leveled his Glock pistol at the executive
officer's ear. In less than ten minutes, the entire platform was
secured by Tongju's men. Not a shot fired, the Sea Launch crew never
expected to be commandeered in the middle of the Pacific.
The commandos were surprised to find that most of the platform's marine
crew were Filipino while the launch team was an assorted mix of
American, Russian, and Ukrainian engineers. The subdued multinational
crew was herded to the galley where they were held at gunpoint, except
for the dozen of Kang's planted crew members and satellite company
representatives, who took over operational control of sailing the
platform. Even Captain Hennessey, captured and roughly bound by one of
Kim's men, was forced to the galley in shock, with the rest of his
crew.
On the bridge, Tongju radioed the Koguryo that the platform was taken
with no resistance. Examining an unfurled navigation chart left on a
side table, he barked at one of Kang's crewmen now manning the helm.
"Revise bearing to fifteen degrees north-northeast. We are diverting
to a new launch site."
As the crack of dawn approached, the Koguryo maneuvered alongside the
northbound Odyssey and slowed to match speeds with the platform as it
mashed through five-foot swells. Edging to within twenty feet of the
Odyssey, Captain Lee held the Koguryo perfectly in tandem with the
&nbs
p; moving platform's starboard beam. In the wheel-house of the Odyssey, a
nervous helmsman ensured that the autopilot was properly engaged as the
ex-cable-laying ship hove to alongside.
On the top deck of the hangar, Tongju supervised the movement of a
large crane as it was swung out over the starboard edge of the
platform. A heavy block and hook swung wildly from the end of the
crane for a moment before being lowered to the rear deck of the
Koguryo. A ready signal was relayed over the marine radio and the
crane began hoisting up a square metal container the size of a sofa,
which was swung over and lowered to the platform's main deck. Stored
inside were the special canisters containing the freeze-dried chimera
cultures ready to be inserted into the payload aerosol dispenser.
While the deadly virus was being hoisted to the platform, the Koguryo's
tender ferried over a dozen launch and payload specialists, who
immediately swarmed into the rocket hangar and began dissecting the
Zenit's payload section. An additional security contingent was also
ferried over to help relieve Tongju's assault commandos.
Tongju returned to the pilothouse and peered out the heavy-paned
windows at the rolling sea two hundred feet beneath him. The swaying
of the platform was slight as the motion rolled up from the distant
pontoons beneath the surface. Gazing to his right, he saw the Koguryo
begin to peel away from the Odyssey, its ferrying services complete for
the time being.
"Increase speed to maximum," his said to the helmsman.
The nervous Filipino adjusted the propulsion controls on both pontoons
and then watched as the digital speed indicator slowly counted
upward.
"Twelve knots, sir. Maximum cruising speed," the seaman replied, his
eyes twitching back and forth.
Tongju nodded in satisfaction, then reached for an overhead radio
transmitter and called Captain Lee on the Koguryo.
"We are progressing on schedule. Please notify Inchon that we are in
control of the launch vessel and intend to initiate launch countdown in
approximately thirty hours. Out."
The apprehensive helmsman stared straight ahead, avoiding the gaze of
Tongju. Whatever fearful thoughts tumbled around his head about
Tongju's intent were minuscule compared to the commando leader's true
objective.
IT took the launch vehicle engineers just under twenty-four hours to
convert the rocket's payload into a weapon of mass horror. Like
surgeons conducting a transplant operation, the engineering team
carefully removed several sections of the outer payload fairing and
delved into the inner workings of the mock satellite. Fake components,
built to resemble communication transponders, were removed and replaced
with small electric pumps, which would drive the aerosol system. Lines
and fittings were attached to the phony solar panels, which would open
in flight to spread the rejuvenated virus, disseminating it as a fine
mist across the California sky.
Working in protective clean room bunny suits, the technicians performed
a final test on the dispensing system, ensuring it was fully functional
for the short rocket flight. The final step of the operation was then
reached: inserting the chimera virus into the payload vehicle. The
canisters from Inchon containing the freeze-dried germs were carefully
mounted to the satellite frame and steel braided lines from
the hydrogenation tanks were connected to the aerosol system. When
activated, a software-controlled program would vacuum-mix the powdered
substance with purified water, then transfer the live fluid through the
vaporizer and out into the atmosphere.
With the deadly cocktail loaded aboard, the payload fairing was
reassembled around the satellite. Propellant explosives were inserted
at key points inside the fairing to blast the payload doors away at the
appointed moment during flight. When the final section of the nose
cone housing was sealed into place, the tired engineering team
congratulated one another briefly and then staggered toward the crew's
quarters. A few precious hours of sleep was all they could ask for
before it would be time to start the final launch countdown.
Without publicly raising the color-coded Threat Advisory System, the
Department of Homeland Security quietly issued an elevated marine port
and airport security alert. Stepped-up screening and random searches
were performed on all aircraft and vessels originating from an Asian
locale, with special inspections for biological and chemical agents. At
Vice President Sandecker's insistence, the Coast Guard was ordered to
stop, board, and search all Japanese- or Korean-flagged inbound ships
with a fully armed security contingent. All available Coast Guard
cutters were put to sea along the West Coast, concentrated around the
commercial hubs of Seattle, San Francisco, and Los Angeles.
In San Francisco, Rudi Gunn coordinated NUMA's interdiction support
with the local Coast Guard commandant. When the research vessel Blue
Gllartived from Monterey, Gunn immediately assigned her picket duty ten
miles off the Golden Gate Bridge. He then jumped up to Seattle, where
he directed local NUMA resources in support of coastal screening, and
enlisted the aid of the Canadian Coast Guard in Vancouver to search all
British Columbia-bound ships.
Dirk and Summer flew to San Diego, where they were welcomed by the
city's trademark seventy-two-degree balmy weather. Taking a short cab
ride from San Diego International Airport's Lindbergh Field to Shelter
Island, it took them only a few minutes to locate the Deep Endeavor
tied up at the end of a large municipal dock. As they approached the
ship, Dirk noticed that an odd-shaped submersible painted a metallic
burnt orange sat on the vessel's stern deck.
"Well, if it isn't the Prisoners of Zenda," Jack Dahlgren called from
the bridge wing upon spotting the twosome boarding the ship. Dirk's
close friend hopped down a stairwell and met them at the head of the
gangway.
"Heard you two enjoyed a seaside tour of the Korean Peninsula,"
Dahlgren laughed as he shook Dirk's hand firmly, then gave Summer a
hug.
"Yes, but we somehow missed the Mkhelin-mt&A attractions," Summer
grinned back.
"Now, wait, that DMZ tour was pretty stimulating," Dirk said, feigning
seriousness. Turning to Dahlgren, he asked, "You and the crew ready to
do a little search-and-seizure work?"
"Yep. A Coast Guard team joined us an hour ago so we're ready to shove
off at any time.
"Good. Let's get after it, then."
Dahlgren escorted Dirk and Summer up to the bridge, where they were
greeted by Leo Delgado and Captain Burch, then introduced to a
uniformed Coast Guard sea marshal named Aimes.
"What's our intercept procedure, Lieutenant?" Dirk asked, noting the
insignia on Aimes's uniform.
"Call me Bill," replied Aimes. A studious man with cropped blond hair,
Aimes took his duty seriously but hated unnecessary formality "We'll be
&
nbsp; assisting the regional Coast Guard vessels as a backup, when and if
commercial traffic gets particularly heavy. Otherwise, we'll be
assigned to ad hoc survey and reconnaissance. Under legislative rule,
we can intercept and board all inbound commercial vessels up to twelve
miles offshore. As NUMA's Coast Guard representative, I will lead all
boardings and searches with my team but will be assisted by several of
your crewmen who have undergone a brief training session."
"What are the chances we could actually locate a weapons cache or bomb
hidden on a large containership?" Summer wondered.
"Better than you might think," Aimes replied. "As you know, we work
closely with the Customs Department under the direction of the Homeland
Security Department. Our customs agents are located at foreign ports
around the globe and are on site to inspect and seal all cargo
containers before the goods are allowed to ship. Upon arriving in U.S.
ports, containers are verified by customs agents as having not been
opened or tampered with before acceptance into this country. The Coast
Guard provides an advance check of the ship and containers before they
have a chance to reach port."
"There's plenty of places on a ship outside of the cargo containers
where somebody could hide a bomb," Dahlgren stated.
"That's a more difficult problem, but it's where the dogs come into
play," Aimes replied, nodding his head toward the far end of the
bridge. Dirk noticed for the first time that a pair of yellow Labrador
retrievers were tied to a bulkhead stanchion and lay asleep on the
deck. Summer had already made her way over to the dogs and begun
scratching them contentedly behind the ears.
"The dogs are trained to sniff out a variety of explosive compounds
commonly used in bomb manufacture. Best of all, they can run through a
Dirk Pitt18-Black Wind Page 43
