“Did you say the green wire?”
Beth didn’t answer.
Matt pulled back and felt the cold muzzle of a pistol against the back of his head.
“Turn around slowly,” he heard a voice say.
He turned around. His stomach turned to ice. One of the Chinese security guards was standing behind Beth with one hand over her mouth and a pistol pressed against her temple. A woman he recognized from the picture on Beth’s badge as Alena Petrov was standing by the door in blue jeans and zoris, pointing at Beth, trembling with rage.
“Are you certain the satellite’s not harmed?” James said, pacing behind his desk.
“We’ve gone over it ten times,” Wong said.
“Go over it again. And as far as those incompetent guards are concerned-”
“In all fairness,” Wong said, “the woman put drugs in their tea-”
“Tea? What the hell were they doing down there, having a party? Stupid, incompetent bastards. They should all be executed.”
Captain Ivanov said, “I don’t understand why the Americans would want to sabotage a simple communications satellite. What could possibly motivate them to do such a thing?”
“Who knows what motivates Americans?” James said.
“Anyway, they couldn’t have done anything,” the captain said. “They weren’t in there long enough.”
“No thanks to you,” James said. “You may as well have given them a key to the ship.”
“I’d like to remind you, Senior Colonel, that bringing them aboard the ship was your idea, not mine.”
“That may be, but believe me when I tell you, they’ll never have an opportunity to do it again.” He turned to Wong. “Arrange for a transfer back to Zhuhai, then get rid of them.”
“I forbid it,” Captain Ivanov said.
James glared at him. “You? Forbid? This is all your fault. You’re in no position to forbid anything.”
“I’ve told you before. There’ll be no transfers on or off this ship unless I say so. It’s dangerous and unnecessary. I’d also like to remind you that we’re running a business here, the purpose of which is to make a profit, not commit murder.”
“And I’d like to remind you that China Aerospace and Technology owns a controlling interest in that business.”
“No, sir, you do not. CAT is a 40-percent owner. Russia is also a 40-percent owner, and our Swedish and Lithuanian partners own 10 percent each.”
“The government of China is paying for this launch, and I represent the government. I’m the customer here.”
“Yes, Senior Colonel, for this launch the Chinese government is the customer, just as we expect to have many more commercial satellite customers in the future. And as the customer, that gives you certain rights, but endangering the ship by unnecessarily transferring people around isn’t one of them.”
“And just what do you propose to do with them?”
“I’ll consign them to quarters, under guard.”
“Like you did before. Don’t you have a brig on this ship?”
“What the bloody hell would we need a brig for? This ship was designed to accommodate professional people.”
“I want the four of them confined to a single room, with the door barred from the outside. I want armed guards over them, day and night.”
“All right. You can have your barred door and armed guards. When we get to the launch site, you can transfer them to one of your bloody warships. What you do with them after that is not my concern.” Captain Ivanov slammed the door behind him.
James slumped down in his chair.
“Check the satellite again, Wong. Make absolutely certain it’s in perfect operating condition.”
“At once, Senior Colonel,” Wong said, backing out of the room.
James rubbed his face in his hands. He’d very nearly been ruined. His cousin had almost succeeded in disabling the satellite in such a way that he’d never have known until it was in orbit. Not even death was a punishment that would fit this crime. It had been a mistake at the start not to kill her, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to kill sweet little Beth. This is what he got for being a sentimental, love-sick fool. It was a mistake he was now prepared to correct. He picked up the phone.
“Get me the commanding officer of Zhuhai.”
After a minute, he heard the voice of Captain Chen over the rumbling of the destroyer.
“Yes, Senior Colonel?”
“Listen to me carefully, Captain. These are your new orders. Upon arrival at the launch site, the CCS will moor to the south side of the launch platform to transfer the rocket. You’ll follow your standing orders to patrol the perimeter of the launch site along with the others. At L minus four hours, propellant chilldown will begin, and loading of fuel will commence at L minus two hours before lift-off. At that time, all launch support personnel will transfer from the launch platform to the command and control ship. You’ll moor to the north side of the launch platform and prepare to receive prisoners.”
“Prisoners, Senior Colonel?”
“The four Americans. Your incompetent marine guard fell asleep on watch and allowed Commander Connor and the woman to escape. They very nearly succeeded in sabotaging the operation.”
“That’s a shocking allegation, Senior Colonel.”
“It’s a shocking fact. Both he and you will be dealt with appropriately when this launch is completed.”
There was a pause. “Please accept my apologies for this unfortunate incident, Senior Colonel. I assure you we’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“Save your apologies. For now, you’ll send a contingent of marines to effect the transfer of the prisoners from this ship to yours. Any further slip-ups will be duly noted and introduced at your trial.”
There was another pause. “May I ask, Senior Colonel, what I’m being charged with?”
“Gross negligence and dereliction of duty. The idea of sending only one guard, and one so incompetent-”
“With all respect, may I remind the senior colonel that we were following his orders when we made the transfer by helicopter and that there is a limit as to how many guards could fit in the helicopter?”
“No more excuses. I want no more excuses for incompetence.”
“Very well, Senior Colonel. We’ll retrieve the prisoners as ordered. What are your orders beyond that?”
“After the launch has been completed, I want you to dispose of them.”
“Dispose of them, sir?”
“Kill them, you idiot. Kill them and dispose of their bodies at sea. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Senior Colonel,” Captain Chen said. “I understand.”
“What time is it?” Matt asked.
Beth retrieved her Rolex and looked at it in the dim light coming through the porthole.
“Five-thirty a.m.”
“June 21,” Matt said. “The big day. I wonder what time they’ll launch.”
“Sometime this morning. They rolled the rocket out and set it up about eight a.m. yesterday. If the countdown started then, at L minus twenty-six hours, they’ll be launching about ten a.m.”
He looked at Beth curiously. “How do you know the schedule?”
“I told you, I didn’t go there as a spy, but I had to turn into one after I realized what they were doing. I know the whole routine.”
Matt sighed. He’d spent most of the previous day and night brainstorming with Sam, Charlie, and Beth, and nothing they’d come up with had made sense. He shook his head. “I feel so goddamn helpless.”
“I know.”
“We can’t just sit on our asses and let this happen. We’ve got to think of something.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know - talk to me. Do a brain dump, maybe it’ll trigger something. What happens between now and launch time?”
“They’ll begin propellant chilldown at L minus four hours. They should be starting any time now. Then they’ll start loading fuel at L minus two hours.”
&n
bsp; “What kind of fuel is it?” Matt asked, searching for something, not knowing what.
“A mixture of kerosene and liquid oxygen. Very volatile. As a safety precaution, they’ll transfer all launch support personnel from the launch platform to the command ship before they start loading.”
“What happens next, after they get the fuel loaded?”
“All they have to do then is lower the erector arm. That’s supposed to happen at L minus fifteen minutes. That’ll be the signal that everything’s go for the launch.”
Matt stepped over to the porthole, careful not to wake Sam and Charlie, who were asleep on the deck. He looked out into the near dawn. The command ship was moored to the south side of the launch platform. The rocket stood erect on the platform’s west end, gleaming in the early morning light like a giant phallus, ready to penetrate the heavens. He stared, frustrated and angry and awed at the immensity of it.
“How big is this damn thing?”
“The rocket or the platform?”
“Both.”
“The launch platform’s like a floating city, 500 feet long, 300 feet wide. Ballasted with seawater to its launch depth, it displaces 60,000 tons. Accommodations for seventy-five crew members and launch personnel. The hangar’s environmentally controlled. They could have transported the rocket here on the launch platform itself if they’d wanted to.”
“Why didn’t they? Seems less complicated than doing a transfer at sea.”
“The two ships were coming from different directions. The command ship from Guangzhou, where they picked up the payload, and the launch platform from Indonesia. It made sense to assemble the rocket and mate the payload to it on the command ship on the way here, then do the transfer at the launch site. As you saw yesterday, the transfer’s no problem with the on-board crane system they have.”
Matt nodded. He’d watched the crane lift the horizontal rocket out of the hangar on the command ship, engines first, and back it into the hangar on the east end of the launch platform, then tilt it up vertically into launch position on the west end of the platform. The transfer had been disgustingly efficient, which had only added to his frustration. His eyes traveled up the glistening surface of the rocket to the white nose cone. Cryogenic vapors swirled around like gossamer, dissipating into the morning air. In a few hours, it would all be over. He had to do something, but what?
With the light growing brighter, he shifted his attention to the north side of the launch platform. He blinked into the dawn, surprised to see that the sub was still there. He’d seen it come alongside yesterday morning and tie up. With the launch platform ballasted down to launch depth, and the ship riding higher with the rocket off-loaded, he could see it a little clearer now. Looking down from the deck they were on, the top edge of the sail was visible. He pressed his forehead against the glass of the porthole to get a better look. He could just make out the tops of numbers painted in white on the black sail. They appeared to be 2-2-9. With a number in that series, it had to be a Romeo-class diesel-electric boat.
Why was it still moored to the launch platform? Probably having mechanical problems. The crew would take advantage of the amenities on the command ship while the sub was being repaired. Hot showers, maybe a movie. A breakdown wouldn’t be unusual. The boats were Chinese-built copies of the Soviet Romeo design, one step up from the old German Type-21 U-boats. They were death traps, completely obsolete. The Chinese had built eighty-four units, but the last time Matt had been patrolling in Chinese waters, intel had reported they were down to thirty or so. Of those, they could keep only about half running at any given time.
The bar on the door clattered out of its bracket. The dogs creaked open one by one. Sam and Charlie began to stir. The door opened, and the old Chinese housekeeper bustled in with a stack of boxes. More of the all-purpose night rations. This time it was breakfast. The Chinese security guard immediately pulled the door closed behind her and barred it. The old woman set the boxes down and shook her finger at Beth.
“I should still be very upset with you for taking my keys,” she said in Mandarin.
“Yes, you should be. Can you ever forgive me?”
“I forgive you, my daughter. But if it was clothing you wanted, why didn’t you say so?”
“Don’t blame her,” Matt said. “It was my idea.”
“No, it was mine,” Beth said. “I’m such a fool.”
The old woman smiled at them. “Lovers always are.” She lowered her voice. “They’re coming for you. They’re going to take you to a warship.” She looked at Beth and Matt plaintively. “Is that good or bad?”
Matt and Beth exchanged glances.
“We’ll be fine,” Beth said to the old woman. “Please don’t worry about us.”
“You must take care of yourselves,” the woman said, scooping up yesterday’s boxes. She turned and rapped on the door. It opened slowly, and the security guard pulled her through. The door slammed shut behind her, the bar clanking back into place.
Matt stared at the door. So that was the game plan. Looking out the porthole, he could see Zhuhai in the distance, steaming toward the north side of the platform. They’d probably be taken off when fueling began, the same time the launch personnel were transferred from the launch platform to the command ship. It didn’t take a lot of imagination to figure out what would happen after that. An idea began to form in his mind, so risky it made him tremble.
Sam came to his feet, stretched and yawned. He pressed his hands into the small of his back. “Man, that deck is hard.”
“Sorry to put you out of your room,” Beth said.
Sam laughed. “It was worth it. I still can’t believe you guys did that.” He held his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “You got that close to putting that thing out of commission. Pretty gutsy.”
“Amen,” Charlie said, rubbing his eyes. “You missed your calling, girl. You should have been a spook.”
“Listen up,” Matt said. “I’ve got an idea.” He wasn’t concerned about bugs. Charlie had gone over the compartment as soon as the four of them were locked inside and had found nothing. “They’re going to take us off to another ship just before the launch, and you know what’ll happen next. The best case is we’ll end up in a Chinese forced labor camp for the rest of our lives.” He nodded toward the porthole and the approaching Zhuhai. “But the most likely case is a bullet in the back of the head and a short trip off the fantail of that destroyer.”
No one spoke.
Beth broke the silence.
“Well, here’s another fine mess you’ve gotten me into.”
They all laughed, a release of tension.
Matt gazed at her. They were only hours away from death, and she was doing Oliver Hardy, trying to cheer everyone up.
“The thing is,” he said, “at this point, it’s not important what happens to us. The only thing important now is to find a way to get this stopped.”
“I hear that, Skipper,” Sam said. “But how?”
“There’s only one thing I can think of, and it’s so far off the wall, I’d give it about a 10 percent chance of success. You can veto it if you like. In fact, all four of us would have to agree before we’d do it.”
“Doing anything sounds better than doing nothing,” Charlie said. “What is it?”
Matt took a deep breath. “There’s a sub moored to the launch platform. Probably in for repairs. It’s been sitting there since yesterday, probably with a skeleton crew aboard. If we could find a way to get aboard, we might be able to do something.”
Beth stared at him. “You want to steal a Chinese submarine? One that’s broken? Are you crazy?”
“I know it’s a long shot-”
“Long shot? Matt, listen to me. It’s nuts. And probably not even necessary. We’re finished, sure, but surely the U.S. Navy’s seen all this activity. They’ll get it stopped, just like you said. They’ll send a sub out. There’s probably one out there right now, waiting to put a torpedo in the launch platform as soon as the
ships pull away.”
Matt gave her a tender smile. They’d told that lie so often she’d begun to believe it. Gray Wolf’s words flashed through his mind again. He’d been thinking about them all night. Governments seldom preempt anything. Nations always wait until they’ve been attacked and then react. Preemptions, throughout history, have always been done by solitary individuals. Like you, Matthew. Matt hadn’t wanted to hear it, but his mentor was right.
“Beth, I’ve spent a lot of time in the military. You’ve spent a lot of time in Washington. We both know how it works. The U.S. can’t stop another nuclear power from doing anything, to interfere would be an act of war. All they can do is wait until it happens and then react. By then it’ll be too late - the damage will be done. We’re the only people who can stop it.”
“Even assuming we could get aboard, what if the repairs to the sub aren’t completed?” Beth said. “If the crew’s not going back, that should tell you something.”
“That’s a chance we’ll have to take.”
“Sam, tell him. This is crazy.”
Sam shook his head, staring at Matt. “I don’t think it’s crazy. I’ve been on a submarine with this man before. He could make it do things nobody else could.”
“But you haven’t been on a sub in years,” Beth said, turning back to Matt. “You’ve probably never even been on one like that before.”
“True,” Matt said. “It has been a long time, and I’ve never been on a diesel sub before outside of a museum.”
Beth threw out her hands as though the conclusion was obvious. “Well?”
“All subs work on the same principle, whether they’re diesel-powered or nuclear-powered,” Matt said. “Ballast is ballast. A dive plane’s a dive plane. A torpedo’s a torpedo.”
“Charlie, tell him. There are four warships out there. What do you think they’re going to be doing when we take off in that sub?”
Matt held up his hand before Charlie could answer. “It’s worse than that. In the interest of full disclosure, there’s also another sub out there - one that’s working.”
“There. See what I mean? He’s crazy. Tell him.”
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