“What in the hell?” the pilot said as he felt the sudden shift of weight to his bird.
“I can’t believe it; that army captain just jumped overboard.”
The pilot veered the Seahawk away from Simbirsk and rose back into the sky to see if they could get eyes on Mendenhall.
“Damn army’s full of nuts these days!” the pilot growled.
* * *
Mendenhall found the gangway. It looked as if it had just been laid down for him. He slowly brought himself out of the water and climbed. Remembering the photo from the Eldridge file, he removed his nine millimeter from his shoulder holster as he took the steps two at a time.
Will had just made it to the main deck when he saw the blood. It looked as if a major action had taken place not long before, and as he realized this, his heart began to sink. The sun broke free of the cloud cover as the skies rapidly cleared of rain and wind.
Mendenhall almost screamed when a bullhorn sounded from somewhere up above him.
“Who gave you permission to board this ship, mister?”
“Ah!” he said as his eyes went high.
Everett smiled from on high as he was joined by the colonel and Ryan.
“A little late for the prom, aren’t you?” Ryan yelled down.
Mendenhall was very tempted to raise the nine millimeter and point it at Jason, but he smiled instead and then holstered his weapon. He closed his eyes in silent thanks for getting his friends back home again.
“If you guys are done yachting, can we go home now?”
* * *
Four hours later, the rescue was complete. Admiral Andersson had ordered Shiloh to be taken in tow, and she was mated with her sister Aegis missile cruiser, Ticonderoga, and was already sliding lazily through the sea alongside Nimitz.
With the assistance of the engineering departments of both Ticonderoga and Nimitz, Houston was able to restore power to her planes and her defensive systems. She couldn’t dive, but that didn’t faze the crew one bit; they were ready to head for Norfolk and home. She was pacing the battle group as they turned south with the Simbirsk in tow by the naval support ship, USS Hannaford. The submarine was under guard with the German destroyer Lutjens and the Dutch frigate Vulcan riding shotgun until she could see her home port once more.
The officers of all combat vessels involved in the incident were safely transported to Nimitz. Jack, Carl, Jason, a bruised Henri Farbeaux, and Charlie Ellenshaw joined by Captain Johnson, Second Captain Dishlakov, and Captain Thorne sat tiredly inside a closed-off section of the hangar deck. A manacled Salkukoff sat in a chair in a far corner, having his broken wrist looked after by a navy corpsman. His remaining men were ensconced in Nimitz’s rather barren brig, guarded by angry marines.
Coffee and sandwiches were passed around much to the relief of the extremely hungry men.
“Where is Jenks?” Jack asked as he took a heavenly bite of a chicken sandwich.
Charlie, looking haggard and less enthusiastic about joining field teams ever again, sipped coffee and looked at Jack.
“The children wouldn’t let him go. He is with them right now in sick bay. He said he would join us as soon as he can.” Charlie again took a sip of coffee and then looked back at the colonel. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I would think that the master chief actually found something he doesn’t despise outside of Virginia.” He smiled. “It’s kind of creepy seeing him with those kids—it’s like he respects them or something.”
Collins smiled and patted Ellenshaw on the back.
“Don’t worry, Doc. I’m sure he’ll be back to his old self once we get home, all miserable and grumpy again.”
“Yeah,” Charlie said, perking up at the prospect of Jenks becoming nonhuman once again.
“Attention!” one of the marine guards called out.
All but Charlie stood as Admiral Andersson and Captain McAvoy entered the sealed hangar deck.
“At ease, gentlemen, at ease,” Andersson said as he went from man to man with the captain of Nimitz and shook each man’s hand.
“I can’t imagine what you have been through. You’re back in safe hands now.” Andersson nodded at the marine guard, and the two left the hangar deck and sealed it once more. “Gentlemen, please, take a seat.” The admiral took an offered chair from McAvoy, and both men sat and faced those who had come back from the grave. “First off, this is not a debrief. That will be conducted at Norfolk. We are here for another reason. We are about to be joined by my counterpart in the Red Banner Northern Fleet and other representatives of the Russian government. We also have NATO representatives arriving in minutes. I just wanted to warn you that the proceedings could get”—he leaned over and whispered into the ear of McAvoy—“as you Americans say, nasty. At the moment, we have three Kirov-class missile cruisers and five destroyers heading our way. They asked permission to board, and on orders from the president of the United States, I have given my permission.”
Jack looked over at Salkukoff and saw he was paying attention, and he didn’t like the look of relief he saw there. He looked at Henri, who had also noticed the look of satisfaction. He had explained to Jack that Salkukoff was nearing his end when the phase shift hit and he had lost his opportunity.
“Stand by to recover rotary aircraft,” came the loud announcement from above them.
“I expect that is our guests arriving,” Andersson said.
“Admiral, may I ask the condition and disposition of my remaining crew?” Dishlakov asked.
“Second Captain, I assure you they are being well treated and fed.”
“Inside your brig, perhaps?” Dishlakov asked with doubt framing the question.
“Your crew is with the remaining marines and sailors of Shiloh. As I said, your brave crew is being well treated. I don’t think we could separate the crews even if we wanted to.”
Dishlakov nodded.
The large panel door opened, and a US Marine stepped inside and allowed four men to enter. Then the large marine approached Admiral Andersson.
“Admiral, your guests have arrived.”
Anderson and McAvoy both rose and stood erect as they faced the four civilian-dressed Russians.
“I am Admiral Andersson—”
“Yes, Admiral, we are well aware of who you are, sir. Your commission in the Dutch navy has not gone unnoticed, especially being named to this farce called Operation Reforger IV. It would seem that when it comes to legalities, the Americans would prefer an officer from another country to take the fall; thus, they named you as overall commander. A convenient scapegoat.”
Andersson sat instead of remaining standing. He was told to expect that the Russians would be in a position of accusation.
“I am Dr. Leoniv Vassick. My colleagues are General Komsky, General Petrovsky, and Dr. Anton Garlitz.” The three other men didn’t have the courtesy to nod. They just stood behind the speaker, Vassick.
“I am told you are here to explain why it is you fired on our naval assets three days ago?” Andersson said with a neutral face.
The middle-aged man with silvering hair and the impressive man in the black suit smiled and then took a seat, and the other two Russians quickly followed suit.
“Let us not play games here, Admiral. You know we are here to take back Russian state property. We will not leave this area without the Simbirsk in tow. If you refuse our request, we have the naval firepower to assist us in this endeavor.” The man looked purposefully over at the line of chairs and then at Jack in particular. His eyes lingered a moment longer than necessary before moving away. “But let us not be militaristic here, Admiral. We need not resort to such horrid conclusions as open warfare. Just surrender our property, and we shall return to our shores, and our friendship will still be intact.”
“And what of your man over there who caused the death of over three hundred of my crew aboard Peter the Great? He also has to answer for the cold-blooded murder of fellow Russian scientist Gervais and Captain Kreshenko, who this man murdere
d in his sleep.”
All eyes went to Second Captain Dishlakov as he suddenly stood and pointed toward the seated and handcuffed Salkukoff.
“This matter will be taken up upon our return home. Colonel Salkukoff will answer to us and us alone.” The words from Leonid Vassick were uttered in a cold and calculated voice, but Jack could see that the coldness was not directed at Salkukoff but was pointedly aimed at Second Captain Dishlakov. Jack figured this whole disaster would be placed squarely on the shoulders of the expendable second captain.
“They’re going to hang everything on Dishlakov, Jack,” Carl whispered beside him.
Collins merely nodded, as he had become used to he and Everett coming to the same conclusions in roughly the same time frame. In other words, they were both becoming experts at smelling out a rat.
“Now, Admiral, the business at hand is our state property and your willingness to acquiesce to our demand.”
To his credit, Admiral Andersson, an old salt at seeing the truth of Russian threats and statements, remained silent and noncommittal. Instead of answering, he nodded toward Second Captain Dishlakov.
“We have the testimony of not only the second captain here but the testimony of your deceased Captain Kreshenko.” For emphasis, Admiral Andersson gestured to Captain McAvoy, who held up the logbook of Peter the Great. “In these pages, you will find the true culprit of this sordid tale. One of murder and international interference from an unknown entity inside your government. It seems even Captain Kreshenko had his doubts about your Colonel Salkukoff’s motives and his disposition to the well-being and safety of his own citizens.”
“That logbook is also Russian state property. Second Captain Dishlakov has once again proven his disloyalty. It is a crime to turn this or any Russian naval logbook over to any Western power.”
“I gave the logbook to the admiral.”
All eyes went to Henri Farbeaux, who stood from his chair. Jack and Everett were caught off guard. Ryan silently whistled under his breath.
“I removed it from the captain’s quarters the night he was murdered by this man.”
“Once a thief, always a thief. Isn’t that right, Colonel Farbeaux? Believe me, your actions in this matter have been discussed at the highest levels of our government,” Vassick said as he brushed at nonexistent lint on his pant leg. The other Russians remained silent.
Henri, instead of answering to his charge, merely smiled and half bowed to his Russian accuser.
“Regardless, as the corresponding international agreements on salvage, this logbook is now the property of The Hague, where it will be entered into evidence for our forthcoming fight over the rights of the sea and salvage.”
Vassick huffed and smiled. “I gather you have not received information from your outer naval pickets of our intent to regain that which is ours. One of the more powerful Russian fleets in years is sitting on your doorstep with the intention of either escorting Simbirsk back home, or, in the failure of that, sinking her and any other vessel that is making the attempt to steal her.”
“Threats at this late date, Doctor? Do you think NATO will allow that fleet to get anywhere near this group?”
Jack didn’t care for the way this confrontation was heading. The threats of war erupting over this ancient experiment were getting out of hand. He felt powerless to stop it.
“We will retake our property, Admiral,” Vassick repeated, reinforcing the standoff.
Again, a US Marine entered the hangar deck and made his way to Captain McAvoy and handed him a message flimsy. The captain read it once and then twice. His brows rose, and then he handed the flimsy to the admiral, who also took his time reading it. He folded the message and then nodded at the marine, who left abruptly. Almost simultaneously, two marines brought in two more folding chairs and placed them directly in front of the Russian contingent.
“Gentlemen, with the exception of Colonel Collins, Captain Everett, Colonel Farbeaux, and Second Captain Dishlakov, would you please excuse us?” The admiral looked taken back for some reason. Jack and Carl exchanged looks that said they were just as confused as Admiral Andersson, who rose with the others and followed Captain McAvoy from the closed-off section of the hangar deck. Overhead, the ominous sound of F-18 Hornets and F-35 fighters being launched into the sky rumbled in the cavernous hangar. Suddenly, it was Jack, Carl, Henri, and Dishlakov sitting alone with the Russians. The room was silent except for what sounded like increased activity on the flight deck high above them.
The hatchway opened once more, and then two marines appeared and, with little effort involved, assisted a wheelchair-bound man over the hatch coming. The small, dark-haired man nodded his thanks and then rolled into the room.
Again, Jack and Carl exchanged looks of confusion as Dr. Xavier Morales rolled to a stop in front of the Russian contingent.
The room was silent as the next two people entered. Jack felt his jaw muscles seize up as he saw his own director, Niles Compton, with cane in hand as he stepped into the hangar. Then he was followed by none other than Virginia Pollock. Both went to the chairs that had been placed for them. All three faced the Russian contingent. The director was dressed in a plain blue suit and Virginia in a pantsuit that held for the viewer nothing but a business impression. Xavier was dressed in simple slacks and even had a tie on. Crooked, Jack saw, but a tie nonetheless.
Vassick smiled and then turned to his companions and said something in Russian. The others nodded. The first marine to have entered returned with a large-screen monitor absconded from the admiral’s quarters. He placed it on a steel rolling table and then left the hangar. The room became deathly silent as everyone, including Jack, Carl, Henri, and even the Russians, was confused at this sudden change of personnel onto this politically charged stage. Jack didn’t know it, but the three people had flown supersonic over the continental United States and then transferred to four of the navy’s newest jump jets, the F-35, and again flew supersonic to get out here to the North Atlantic.
Virginia stunned and silenced the Russians by saying something in their native tongue to their guests. They saw Vassick raise a brow and then nod his head in agreement to something she said. Niles remained silent as he studied his counterpart across from him.
“Yes, Doctor, we can speak English, if that is what you prefer. We know your Drs. Compton and Morales do not speak our language, and we do so need their input in the upcoming matters.”
Virginia nodded and then went silent as both groups observed the other. It was Niles who cleared his throat and then placed his small case on the steel deck.
“You seem to know all about us, Dr. Vassick.”
“For years, Dr. Compton, it has been my duty to learn such things. Perhaps you have a particular understanding of that?”
Compton said nothing. Instead he looked with his one good eye at the men before him.
“I am here at the authorization of the president of the United States, who has tasked me with the duties we will describe here in a few minutes. May I ask, sir, who you represent?”
Vassick smiled as the game began. “Of course. I am here representing the rights of the Russian people and that of our shared heritage. Thus, we want our property back.”
Niles exchanged looks with Xavier, who rolled a few feet closer to the Russian contingent.
“You do, as my director says, know an awful lot about us. But we also have learned quite a lot about you, sir. For instance, we have discovered that you are operating without the knowledge of your highest levels of government. We know that you have been doing so since the fall of 1941. We also know that you and a select group of individuals have committed high treason right under the noses of the Soviet and Russian governments.”
“And of course, Dr. Morales, you have indisputable proof of this?”
“Not at all. It is mere conjecture and circumstantial.”
“I suspect this comes from that magnificent computing system your group employs. Bravo on your guesswork. This system”—he stop
ped and leaned over as one of his aids spoke to him in Russian—“ah, yes, Europa. As I was saying, without evidence and actual proof of anything, you cannot harm us. As we”—again the irritating smile—“cannot prove beyond a doubt that your group exists. So here we are, Doctor, both entities standing and shouting to the winds.”
Morales smiled in return. “What is your goal?”
“Why, to protect our citizens and our heritage. Just as your group proclaims in its charter.”
Niles cleared his throat and then faced down Vassick. Jack leaned forward in his chair. He knew Dr. Compton took the secrecy of the Group very seriously and the knowledge that their secret was now out in the open, at least to these people, and now he was playing a hidden card that Jack himself could not figure out.
“We can sit here and rattle sabers all day long, but that will get us into nothing but open warfare. And that, sir, is one battle you cannot allow to happen. That would take too much explaining to your real government, not this hidden society you claim is running things. As Dr. Morales said a moment ago, sir, we also know quite a bit about you.”
“Please continue, Dr. Compton.”
“As it stands, your influence with the Russian military is expansive and supported from within your tight circle of confidants. But you still work with a hidden agenda, whereas we do not. We work under the auspices of the United States government, as I’m sure you know.”
Jack watched as Xavier wheeled over to the monitor and turned it on. He used a small laptop that looked strangely like the small Europa link lost by them. He hit a few buttons, and the face of an aged man came into focus. Morales nodded at Niles.
“Sir, we now have a guess as to who it is you answer for. This group is called the Northstar Committee.”
“A group I am not familiar with,” Vassick said as his face remained neutral.
“Well, as I said, everything we have is circumstantial. I’m sure that this fact will be a big relief to the rest of your associates. But we did get evidence that the methods used in your efforts to steal the phase shift information were flawed. You left fingerprints at the scene. The radioactive material from the breeder reactor, as you know, is identifiable and was indeed stolen from the Hanford research facility in 1943.”
Beyond the Sea--An Event Group Thriller Page 38
