Counter Poised

by John Spikenard

  “Could be,” replied the captain thoughtfully. “It would make sense to send out their most capable submarine and crew as a first line of defense. Right?”

  “Right.”

  The captain met eyes with the XO, and in that instant they could read each other’s minds.

  George made his decision. “Well they’re sitting between us and Kermandec Number Nine, so we’ve got to take them out. XO, this one is yours. You and MacKenzie are launching at midnight! That will give us a few more hours to close on their position, and the shorter range will give you more loiter time on station.”

  “Aye-aye, sir. We’ll brief and make the preparations!”

  The XO and MacKenzie started out of the control room. The captain called after them down the passageway, “XO, load the sub-fighter with armor-piercing rockets. We can’t afford to have the Yunes bobbing on the surface radioing our position to the world. She’s too close to the final transfer point. I want the Yunes put on the bottom. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir! Perfectly clear!”

  Chapter 43

  The Yunes

  The captain and XO stood in the Yunes’s tiny, cramped control room. The captain was putting on a foul weather jacket and raising the hood in preparation for going aloft to join the officer of the deck (OOD) and the lookout on the bridge at the top of the Iranian submarine’s sail.

  “Captain, we are halfway across the Pacific. We are making good time. In another week, we will reach the coast of South America. We can then sail north in shallower waters until we reach our rendezvous point off Southern California.”

  “That is good. Has there been any indication that the Americans are aware of our deployment?”

  “They know that we deployed, Captain. But there is no indication they know where we are. By deviating to the south we have avoided their underwater listening posts. We should be able to deliver the nuclear weapon to the al-Qaeda operatives on schedule for the destruction of Los Angeles.”

  “It is a privilege to serve Allah in this glorious way. It was quite frustrating to serve merely as a decoy when the North Koreans delivered the weapon used in Washington DC. Now we have the opportunity to show that Allah will crush the unbelievers.”

  “Yes, Captain, it is truly an honor.”

  “I must go aloft to supervise preparations for the dive. Make preparations below.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  SF-1

  The XO and MacKenzie glided silently through the South Pacific waters in SF-1.

  “How are your systems working, Mac?”

  “Excellent, XO. Everything is up.”

  “Good. Keep an ear out for the Yunes. They’re probably the bastards that delivered the DC nuke. I’m planning a little special treat for her.”

  “Special treat, sir?”

  “Well, based on our calculations, we should find her just before dawn. She’ll still be running on the surface using her diesels, so she shouldn’t be very difficult to find.”

  “Yes, sir. I expect to pick her up from twenty or more miles away.”

  “True, and that makes our job very easy. The thing I don’t like about this scenario is that most of her crew will still be asleep. Now you can call me twisted or anything else you want, but I don’t like the fact that that these bastards are going to die in their sleep. I’d rather they die all tensed up.”

  “I am with you on that one, XO. Either you’re not twisted or we both are!”

  “Good man, MacKenzie.”

  “So what’s the plan?”

  “Have you ever heard of thumping someone?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Well it’s a fighter-pilot practical joke, and it goes something like this. Many times when flying off the carrier, a fighter—we’ll just call him Mad Dog—has to conserve fuel in order to stay airborne until his designated landing time. To conserve fuel he slows down and flies at max conserve airspeed—let’s just say about two hundred and fifty knots.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now when one of Mad Dog’s buddies with plenty of fuel looks down from above and spots him flying at max conserve airspeed, he decides, ‘Hey, there’s Mad Dog down there at max conserve. I gonna go thump him!’ The buddy then dives from high and behind poor Mad Dog to achieve five hundred knots or more, and he flies directly under Mad Dog—just a few feet below him. Once past the nose of Mad Dog’s aircraft, the buddy pulls back hard on the stick, blasting up in front of Mad Dog just in front of his windscreen. Mad Dog, flying along at max boredom, suddenly sees nothing but jet for an instant and then flies through his buddy’s jet wash and gets tossed around in his cockpit. He just got thumped!”

  “That’s cool! So what do you have in mind, XO?”

  “I want to do something that will wake up everybody on the

  Yunes and give the OOD a heart attack. And then I want to kill them all.”

  The Yunes

  The captain climbed up through the hatch and joined the OOD and lookout on the bridge. In the east, the dawn, rosy fingered, was upon them. In the increasing light, the stars were disappearing and the horizon was becoming visible.

  “All is well, Captain. We have not spotted any traffic this night. In fact, no traffic has been seen since we passed the Kermandec Islands yesterday.”

  “Good. We should be able to make this passage undetected, Allah willing. It is now time to make preparations to dive. I have the conn.”

  “Yes, Captain.” The OOD called below, “The captain has the conn.”

  “You two go ahead and start down, I will follow.”

  The lookout started down when suddenly, there was a tremendous roar! Just beyond the bow of the submarine an object arose from the depths at tremendous speed and flew into the air! A jet of water spewed from its tail deafening the captain and the OOD. As the object nosed over and reentered the water, the waterjet blasted the bridge, knocking the astonished captain and OOD off their feet!

  Regaining his composure, the captain grabbed the nearest headset and shouted, “General Quarters! General Quarters! All hands man your battle stations!”

  Alarms began ringing throughout the Yunes.

  “Get below!” the captain ordered the dazed OOD, who immediately scrambled down the ladder.

  “Dive! Dive! Emergency dive!” the captain yelled into the headset. He scanned the sea around the Yunes, but there was no sign of the roaring object that had blasted its way into their otherwise boring morning. The captain closed the hatch to the sail and climbed down the ladder to the control room.

  When the captain arrived below, the control room was in total chaos! In a state of panic, the OOD was excitedly telling everyone Allah had cursed this mission and had sent a giant dragon from the deep to destroy them.

  “Believe me,” the OOD was telling them. “I saw it with my own eyes. It spewed us with water and knocked us down!”

  People shouted, “The vengeance of Allah is upon us!” and dropped to the deck in submission.

  “Stop! Listen to me!” the captain shouted. “It was not a dragon. It was a machine. It was an enemy submarine contrived by the infidels. We must dive and attack it. Everyone get to your battle stations!”

  The crew began to rise and return to their stations.

  “No!” yelled the OOD. “It was not like a submarine. It was too small for a submarine and it was too fast. And it flew through the air! Submarines do not fly! It was evil and it will destroy us! Allah is angry!”

  Once again the crew began to panic. The captain reached under his foul weather jacket and pulled out the pistol he always carried. Taking aim, he shot the OOD through the heart!

  The chaos and panic immediately stopped.

  “We are on a mission ordained by Allah. That does not mean there will not be obstacles. We have an enemy to defeat. Man your battle stations and we will defeat the infidels.”

  Solemnly, the crew returned to their battle stations, stepping over the lifeless body of the OOD.

  “Dive! Dive!” the captain order
ed.

  The Yunes began to submerge.

  “Load torpedo tubes one and two.”

  “Passing two hundred feet, Captain,” reported the diving officer.

  The Yunes shuddered as an explosion was heard aft.

  “Damage Control, report!” yelled the captain.

  “Flooding in the battery compartment, port side!” came the answer.

  “Damage control team to the battery compartment!” ordered the captain.

  The XO turned to the captain. “Shall we continue our dive, Captain? If the batteries become flooded we will have no power. We should return to the surface so that we can use the diesels.”

  The captain was uncertain. Continuing the dive could be fatal, but returning to the surface would make them useless against the enemy submarine.

  The Yunes shuddered again as another explosion was heard aft.

  This time, the call came without asking. “Flooding in the battery compartment, starboard side!”

  “Surface!” yelled the captain.

  “We have lost power to the engines, Captain! The batteries have shorted out!” reported the XO.

  “Blow emergency ballast!”

  “The port and starboard ballast tanks have been destroyed!”

  A tremendous explosion in the control room knocked everyone to the deck. Once again, there was total panic. Water blasted in through a gaping hole on the starboard side. The lights went out.

  Chapter 44

  The Louisiana ran north along the eastern side of the Kermandec Islands.

  “Captain,” the Navigator reported, “We’re abeam the ninth island.”

  “Very well. Helm, come left heading two-seven-zero. All ahead one-third. Make your depth, periscope depth.”

  “Aye-aye, sir.”

  “Rig the ship for silent running.”

  “Aye-aye, sir. Level at periscope depth, sir.”

  “Very well. Raise scope.”

  Once the scope broke the water, Captain Adams made a rapid 360-degree sweep in all directions. Having satisfied himself they were in no immediate danger from undetected surface targets, he focused his search on the northern coast of the island. A solitary cargo ship was anchored there. The Nuku’alofa was a typical, small, interisland cargo ship—the type used for transporting mail, spare parts, and machinery from New Zealand up to American Samoa and the other inhabited islands. Proportionally, she had a rather large hull compared to her small superstructure, which made her look more like a barge than an oceangoing cargo ship. Rust stains ran down her sides over the faded green and white paint.

  “Raise the UHF antenna.”

  “Aye-aye, sir.”

  “Comm, signal the Nuku’alofa on the encrypted channel and let me know when they respond.”

  “Aye-aye, sir.” Within thirty seconds, the communications petty officer reported, “Authenticated response received, sir.”

  “Very well. Maintain current course and speed. We should rendezvous with the Nuku in approximately ten minutes. I want the remaining teams ready to transfer over with their warheads on the double. We’ve got to get them off of here as quickly as possible.”

  “Aye-aye, sir.”

  The warheads were pre-positioned for the offload, so the XO made the announcement throughout the boat for the teams to assemble and prepare to go topside. The captain continued to monitor their approach to the Nuku. She was perfect for their needs because she would not raise any suspicions as she cruised back to Auckland—just a typical old South Pacific rust bucket. Once aboard her, the teams would be hidden until ready to disperse to their selected safe locations.

  “All ahead slow. Prepare to surface.”

  “Aye-aye, sir.”

  “Surface, surface, surface.”

  The Louisiana blew main ballast and surfaced approximately one hundred yards from the Nuku. A team of deckhands went topside to catch and secure the lines, which would be thrown over from the cargo ship. Captain Adams made his way up the conning tower to the topside bridge. As the Louisiana pulled up beside the Nuku, the captain reversed the screw momentarily to stop the submarine’s momentum and bring them to rest a few feet away.

  From his height at the top of the sail, George looked across at the deck of the Nuku. Dwight stood at the rail.

  “Welcome to Kermandec Number Nine,” said Dwight. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Cuz.”

  “I never thought I’d see the day I said you looked good, but it’s good to see you, Dwight. But what are you doing here?”

  “I’m joinin’ your team in hiding, George. I can’t go back to GenCon.”

  “Why not? What happened?”

  “After my men delivered the RV to the Ka‘abah in Mecca, the Saudis tracked their vehicle and blew it up with a missile. Killed three of my men. Then they analyzed the pieces of the van and managed to link it back to GenCon. The FBI was startin’ a full blown investigation, so I got out of Dodge while the gettin’ was good!”

  “Wow! It’s good to have you, but sorry to hear about your men. They died in a good cause, though. Hopefully their deaths will help to save millions. I assume they successfully planted the RV before the bastards got them?”

  “Yeah, they did—at the Ka‘abah right in the middle of the tight security surrounding the hajj. It scared the pants off the Saudis. In fact, it scared them so much they executed the head of security in Mecca, and his cousin, too!”

  “I’m glad it was successful. All of the world’s Muslim nations now know we can hit them whenever and wherever we want. The point has been well made, and we have your men to thank for it.”

  A stairway had been lowered along the side of the Nuku from the deck to a floating platform at the bottom. While George and Dwight talked, the crew had already started the transfer.

  “George! What are you doing up there? Come on!”

  George looked down to the Louisiana’s deck below where Leona stood looking at him in exasperation. “I’ll be right down.”

  George climbed down the ladder from the bridge. Apparently, Leona had forgotten all formalities during this hectic transfer, and she was calling him by his first name in front of all the crew! As he arrived on the deck, ready to quietly admonish her, she grabbed him by the arm and said, “Come on, George. We’ve got to go!”

  The captain looked around at the crewmembers on the deck, expecting to see astonishment on their faces at this revelation, but only seeing knowing smiles. Apparently everyone knew his well-kept secret all along! Seeing Sergeant Ramirez, the captain motioned for him to stay close and stand by.

  George pulled Leona aside. “You have to go aboard the Nuku, Leona. I’m not leaving yet, but I’ll join you later.”

  “Later? What do you mean later?”

  “A few of us have to take the Louisiana back out for one quick trip. Then we’ll be back.”

  “A quick trip? What do you need to go back out for? We’ve got everything we need off the boat. Just leave it. What are you going to do?”

  “Leona, there’s at least one fast attack boat that’s been chasing us from Cape Horn. If they’ve alerted the Pacific Fleet of our whereabouts, there may be a half dozen more attack boats closing in. We don’t want the trail of the Louisiana to lead them right to the Nuku. So I have to create a diversion, that’s all. As soon as that’s done, I’ll join you.”

  The captain indicated to Sergeant Ramirez to come over. “Sergeant, please take care of Petty Officer Harris and see that she gets safely onto the Nuku.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Leona was in tears. “George, you can’t do this. You can’t leave me here and go back out again. I believe in this mission, but I also joined because it meant we were going to be together.”

  “Leona, nothing has changed. We will be together. Trust me. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  Chapter 45

  USS Louisiana

  The last team and warhead had been offloaded. The captain, the XO, Petty Officer MacKenzie, and the bull nuke (the senior enlisted nuclear-t
rained crewmember) remained onboard the Louisiana. The two sub-fighters were docked topside.

  “XO, get SF-2 ready—you and the bull nuke are leaving.”

  The captain turned to the bull nuke. “Get back to engineering and set turns for all ahead full. That should be sufficiently noisy for the Texas to hear us. Then get back up here on the double. You and the XO have to launch before our speed gets over ten knots.”

  “Aye-aye, sir.”

  “But Captain,” responded the XO, “this is a critical operation. I think I should stay here with you.”

  “No, you’re needed ashore, XO. Petty Officer MacKenzie, you’re with me.”

  “Aye-aye, sir,” they both answered.

  The XO hurried down the passageway to the escape hatch. He climbed into SF-2 and started the launch procedure. As soon as the bull nuke returned from the engine room, they closed the hatch and lifted off the deck of the Louisiana. The captain and Petty Officer MacKenzie were the only two souls left onboard.

  The captain set the sonar so that the audio was broadcast over the loudspeaker in the control room. “Take the rudder and stern planes, Mac. I’ve got the dive planes.”

  “Aye-aye, sir!”

  “Twenty minutes or so at heading zero-niner-zero should get us back over the center of the trench.”

  USS Texas

  “Captain Sewell!” shouted the sonar operator. “I’ve got him! He’s north of track, but by the angle off and distance, I estimate he must have turned north within the last two hours or so.”

  “Captain, aye!” The Texas had finally caught up with the Louisiana and Buffalo’s old friend, George Adams.

  “What’s he doing, Navigator?” Buffalo asked as he turned around from the conning station to look at the navigator’s plot.

  “Sir, his track would indicate he’s running north-northeast, right along the Kermandec Trench.”