Ben turned back to the woman. “See, no offense meant. Ms. Treblinsky, I regret that our efforts do not seem to rise to your expectations, but you’ll be glad to know that your stay with us will end shortly. I’ll be stepping out to interview your companion, but if you change your mind about talking, one of these petty officers can fetch me.”
The smile on the woman’s face became broader and, if possible, colder. “Not happening, dick!”
Ben smiled, nodded to the petty officers, then turned to the prisoner. “Good afternoon, ma’am,” he said, then turned and stepped through the door, closing it behind him. Simmons waited out of sight beyond the door. Ben looked at him and shook his head. “Holy Shit, Doc! What the hell is that?”
“Friend, my educated guess is that is a Next Generation Sparrow, formerly of the Russian SVR, now working either freelance or full time for our TCO foes. You can bet on that ID being bogus. We’ll see if her biometrics pop when we get her back ashore.” He glanced back at the door to the berthing area. “Will your people be OK in there?”
“Worry about her,” Ben replied as they turned toward the mess deck. “They both understand the situation. If she makes a move or does anything off-key…” He snapped his fingers. “They’ll take her down, or out, as needed. Like I said, family.”
“Gotcha. You know, my people would just keep her knocked out until we had her in a secure facility.”
“Must be nice. We still have to play by the rules here.”
Simmons smiled back sadly. “Yes, I don’t envy you guys. I watched your CO having to send you in with one hand tied behind your back this morning—it was eating him up.”
Ben stopped and faced him. “Good. Keep that in mind. Doc, I get that you have an important mission and you’re focused on that. I’m grateful to you for sharing the scanner. It probably saved our lives. But you’re still in the hole with me for the crap you pulled on him yesterday. He’s the best man I’ve ever known, get it? We’re the good guys here. Make us want to trust you.”
“Touché. I’m genuinely sorry about that. I was furious at him for being so obstinate without considering that he did not understand the stakes—very poor judgment on my part. At least now, you guys are in on everything, and I can stop being so cagey. May I ask the favor of a clean slate?”
“I’ll grant it, but that’s just me, and it doesn’t automatically extend to the Captain. He’s down with the mission, but I’d keep my distance when possible if I were you.”
“Thanks for the consideration and advice.” Simmons nodded, extending a hand that Ben shook. “I’ll try to keep on the undark side of the force. OK, let’s interrogate the Cowardly Lion.”
Clarence “Hawk” Rodin, the male detainee, was as effusive in his interview as “Laura” was reticent in hers. Ben had to threaten to gag him to enable the reading of his rights and offered him the Miranda Waiver, which he readily signed. Rodin was an itinerant deckhand on yachts in the Tampa area. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen approached him and paid a fantastic amount of money to captain the Sunrise Surprise II wherever she needed. When they sighted the approaching Coast Guard cutter, she had offered him a 50% bonus on top of non-monetary benefits to make like one of the rich assholes who typically hired him. She hoped he would intimidate the boarding officer into moving along without doing a thorough search of the boat. He insisted the display of the physical threat during the interview was part of the scam. Knowing they weren’t carrying any drugs—he’d checked, and who carries drugs south, anyway, he jumped at the opportunity.
Ben wrapped up the interview when the word passed the Sector Key West boat had arrived. As Ben and Simmons moved toward the main deck, Simmons asked, “What do you think?”
Ben shook his head. “He’s either the greatest actor of our times or a complete doofus. They might charge him with accessory on 844, but it’d be a stretch to prove. He keeps cooperating, and he’ll probably walk.”
Simmons nodded. “That was my sense, perfect patsy.”
“I guess we’ll see. I’m not sure of anything on this crazy mission.” They walked out on the main deck as the sector boat moored alongside Kauai. Within two minutes, the bomb disposal team leader climbed the ladder onto the main deck, followed by his deputy. He recognized Simmons and crossed over with a smile and hand outstretched.
“Pete goddammit, I might have known you were hip deep in this one!” he said as they shook hands.
“Chief, it’s great to see you, sorry it’s about work.” Simmons smiled back. He gestured to Ben. “Matt Kemper, Chief EOD Technician, U.S. Navy, Retired, this is Lieutenant j.g. Ben Wyporek. He’s XO here and found the bomb.”
Kemper shook Ben’s hand. “Glad to meet you, sir, and that you’re still in one piece.” He turned to his subordinate. “This is Ken Davis, my deputy, and the man who’ll be going after the device if we take it on.”
As they finished shaking hands with Davis, Simmons asked, “Matt, you guys got on the scene in a hurry. Were you down here already?”
“No, a stroke of luck. The Coasties had a Herc in the training pattern at MacDill when the call came. They full-stopped on the next landing to pick us up; an hour later, we’re rolling off at Boca Chica. You must have juice. It would have taken a week to get a lift from the Transportation Command.”
“Yeah, we’re saving the world, one sailboat at a time.”
“Dedication, very inspiring.” Kemper nodded. “Now, tell me about this bomb.”
The four men retired to the mess deck. Simmons replayed the video capture from the scanner, and Ben described the interior of the sailboat in detail. Kemper nodded and asked the occasional question. He pulled up his laptop and opened two files. “We got these plan views from Marlow Hunter showing the basic design of the boat and some options. Lieutenant, which one looks closest to you?”
Ben scrutinized the three plans, trying to translate the lines on the screen to what he remembered seeing on the boat. Finally, he pointed at one drawing. “That one is closest.”
Kemper nodded. “Alrighty then. The robot can’t complete the disarm. We’d need the big one, and there isn’t room to maneuver it. I’ll send the mini in to drill holes and get a good peek with the camera. Then we can weigh the risks.” He turned to Simmons. “Pete, I gotta tell you I will need powerful persuadin’ before I send one of my guys in that box to clip wires.”
Simmons nodded. “Chief, we’re sure that rig’s a self-destruct for some new stealth technology that we really need to get our hands on. We’ve seen it work—that boat was invisible to this cutter’s radar until they switched it off.”
Kemper whistled and shared a glance with Davis. “OK, you’re on. If it looks like we can take it after the close inspection, we’ll try it. Now, Lieutenant, you said the woman was making a move when you took her down. Did it seem like she was going for a detonator?”
“I thought so. For all we know, she could have been reaching for a weapon or taking a shot at knocking me overboard. By that point, I didn’t want my people sitting on top of a bomb while I went searching for answers.”
“Definitely the right call, sir.” Kemper nodded. “We will send Wally the robot in for a scan around the top deck to find what she was so eager to grab. Pete, I like this scanner of yours, and we will have one of those ‘tater-to-taters’ about that when we finish here. Howsomever, I would like to use it for a top to bottom on that boat before we go. Are you down for that?”
“I’ll even run it for you if you’re sure it won’t set the thing off.”
“Naw, if it was sensitive, the Lieutenant would’ve set it off.” Kemper winked at Ben and smiled. “These things are a compromise between doing the job and making sure it doesn’t trip on you before you need it to do the job. That means they’re rarely that sensitive. I’m sure the last thing these guys want is for this gizmo to self-detonate when the boat bumps into a buoy or sails past a destroyer with the fire-control radar energized.”
The four men continued the discussion for anoth
er 20 minutes. They completed a plan of action, after which the two bomb technicians made their way back to the sector boat. Simmons and Ben walked forward to exchange some gear. While they walked, Ben inquired, “Doc, I’m at a loss, but I didn’t want to come across as a newbie. What’s a ‘tater-two-tater’?”
Simmons chuckled. “Matt Kemper is not just one of the best bomb disposal experts in the world. He can spin eggcorns and malaprops that would put Yogi Berra to shame. He meant ‘tête-à-tête.’”
Ben laughed as much from the release of tension as the joke. “That one’s going into the hall of fame!”
◆◆◆
Much to the relief of Hopkins, Lee, and Sam, the sector boat also brought three members of the Marshal’s Service to take custody of the prisoners. Once they were signed over, the women returned to work.
Shortly afterward, Sam and Ben stood together on the bridge wing, watching the RHIB maneuver slowly around the Sunrise Surprise II while Simmons and the two bomb technicians performed x-ray scans in the preliminary survey. Sam preferred not to expose any of his crew, but the response boat was as large as the sailboat and too heavy for the close work needed. Ben glanced at the afterdeck to see Bondurant watching the operation intently. Bondurant had been preparing to take the sortie himself when Lee walked up and reminded him she was supposed to be coxswain today. The sight of the diminutive Lee standing on her toes to press home her point to her full-foot-taller superior had evoked a broad smile from Ben. Lee’s blood was up after a two-hour faceoff with the hostile and dangerous prisoner, and she was not settling for standing around quietly afterward. Bondurant eventually raised his hands in surrender and stepped back with a smile as Lee donned her helmet and led the crew and three passengers aboard the RHIB.
“Kauai, Kauai-One, external scanning complete, no other devices visible. Request approach outboard of response boat for passenger transfer. Over,” Lee’s voice came over the radio. Sam turned to Hopkins and nodded.
“Kauai-One, Kauai, cleared for approach and moor outboard of response boat, over,” Hopkins responded.
“Kauai, Kauai-One, roger, out.” The RHIB swung away from the sailboat and settled on a course back to the Coast Guard boats. A short distance away, Lee turned the RHIB’s heading almost parallel to the two connected vessels and then slowed it to a soft bump and stop against the sector boat. The boat seaman and engineer both fastened lines to the larger vessel’s deck cleats, after which Lee turned to Simmons and the two bomb technicians and said, “Go!” After the three men had scrambled onto the sector boat, Lee shouted, “Let go!” and her two crewmen unhitched and retrieved the lines. A brief 35 seconds after contacting the sector boat, the RHIB swung clear to take up its rescue station between the cutter and the sailboat.
Simmons and Kemper shook hands with Davis aboard the sector boat and then climbed the ladder to Kauai’s main deck while the latter remained behind. After dropping off the scanner, they walked to the Bridge to confer with Ben and Sam. The sector boat headed for the sailboat with Davis and the robot.
Kemper set up his laptop on the chart table, opened his communication module, and set it to speaker mode. “Okay, Ken, we’re set up, light off when ready.”
“Roger, Boss, coming on now.”
Two windows popped on the laptop screen. “Gentlemen, welcome to Wally-vision,” Kemper announced. “The top screen is the wide-angle scanning camera, lower left is the fore/aft chassis cameras, and the lower right is for the scope camera.” He leaned over the comms module and said, “Long view looks good, Ken, let’s check the close in.”
The wide-angle camera was obscured, then quickly refocused on Davis’s comically twisted face. “How’s this?”
Kemper smiled. “Good resolution of some major butt-ugly. Make it stop, please!” The picture returned to a distant view of the sailboat. “Ah, much better.” He hit the mute button. “For luck, we like to start all our ops with a little levitation.” Sam’s mouth opened and closed silently, Ben turned away to hide a smile, and Simmons stared back, completely poker-faced.
The picture became jerky as the sector boat pulled alongside the sailboat, and Davis and one of the boat crewmen lifted the robot aboard. “Wally’s on board, we’re pulling back 50 meters,” Davis called through the comms module. “OK, in position, beginning wide scan.”
The plan had the robot survey the top deck of the sailboat and secure anything resembling a detonator. Davis would return briefly to move the robot down to the sailboat’s cabin since it couldn’t “climb down” on its own. After a close inspection of the bomb with the robot’s cameras, Kemper would decide whether Davis could risk a hands-on disarm.
The robot’s pass on the top deck found a canvas bag with objects resembling a pen and a cellphone. Kemper held his breath as these were deposited in the robot’s lead-lined steel holding box. If either was broadcasting a continuous signal, the box would interrupt it and detonate the bomb. The box snapped shut. “No boom. I guess we’re still in business.” Kemper smiled. “OK, Ken, move in for repositioning.”
The sector boat returned to the sailboat, and Davis and the seaman carried the robot down to the cabin level. The sector boat had pulled back to a safe distance, and the robot repeated the inspection process in the cabin.
Finally, the moment of truth arrived, and the robot stopped in front of the panel concealing the bomb. Davis had the robot drill a hole in the panel and insert the articulating camera for a look inside. After a thorough interior inspection of the entire panel and seams for booby traps, Davis turned the camera on the bomb.
“Boss, it seems like they’re playing it safe with this one—nothing hinky in sight. I am OK doing the clip.”
“Stand by Ken.” Kemper selected mute on the comms module and turned to Simmons. “Pete, you and I know that Ken can’t work in there in the Bomb Suit. If this goes south, we’ll be mopping him up with a sponge. I need convincin’ this is a no-shit national security deal and not some egghead science project.”
Simmons locked eyes with Kemper. “Matt, I’ve been there. I know what I’m asking Ken to do. I’d do the job myself if I could handle it. It’s a big ask, but we’ve got to get hold of that masker.”
Kemper held the stare for another 10 seconds, then turned back to the comm module. “Ken, you are cleared to go. If anything goes one nanometer out of whack, you run like hell, clear?”
“Roger, Boss, you don’t have to tell me twice. See you later.”
“Not if I see you first. Good luck, whackjob.” Kemper punched the mute button again. “We’ll be going radio silent until he’s done, just to play it extra safe. Nothing left but sit back and listen to the noise in my brain,” Kemper said with a wry smile. As if on cue, the video feed from the robot cut off.
“Can we bring you up a mug of coffee or something, Chief?” Sam asked.
“No, thanks, Captain.” Kemper stood up and closed the laptop. “I may take you up on that later. Excuse me, please, sir.” He picked up the comms module and walked out on to the bridge wing to watch the operation.
Ben asked Simmons, “On the other side? You’ve done this yourself?”
“Yes, I have a few times.” Simmons nodded. “In the field, sometimes you’re your own bomb disposal. The reason I’m still breathing is Matt was on the other end of the phone talking me through it. I’d rather be the one working the bomb than have his job.” He nodded toward Sam and started outside to join Kemper. “Your CO knows what it’s like, I’m sure.” He walked out silently to stand by Kemper and put his hand on his friend’s shoulder.
Ben and Sam shared a look and followed.
◆◆◆
“All safe, Boss,” Davis’s voice came over the comms module. “And I did another sweep. No surprises.”
Holding the rail, Kemper put his head down for a few seconds, then stood up straight and pressed the transmit button. “Roger, pack it up. First one at Willie T’s is on me.” He turned to Simmons. “Your show now, brother.”
“Thanks, Matt. Ne
xt time we catch up, I’m buying for everybody.”
“You better believe it.” Kemper nodded and turned to Sam. “Captain, that coffee offer still good?”
“Definitely.” Sam offered his hand. “Dr. Simmons can show you to the mess deck. I need to stick around up here, so I’ll bid you a safe journey now.”
Kemper shook his hand firmly. “Thanks, Captain. You’ve got a wonderful ship and crew here.” He turned and followed Simmons down.
Sam turned to Hopkins. “OOD, recall the RHIB, please. We might as well get it stowed before the sector boat comes back.”
“Yes, sir,” Hopkins responded and continued inside the Bridge.
Within an hour, the makeshift conclave broke up. The Sunrise Surprise II was under sail in the freshening westerly breeze heading north for MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa. The sector boat with the prisoners and bomb disposal team motored down to Key West. Kauai headed southeast for the next round of reconnaissance. Sam had agreed to launch the Puma for a short sortie and quick surveillance of Resolution Key, the next on their list.
The aircraft returned a little before sunset, and Simmons had asked for a meeting with Sam and Ben afterward. The three men retired to Sam’s cabin and gathered around Simmons’s laptop for the discussion. “Captain, I need to ask if we can go ashore on Resolution tomorrow morning.”
“I don’t see that as a problem, Doctor. As I recall, there’s good water to the west of the northern tip of the island. Did the Puma turn up something?”
“It’s probably nothing, but there appears to be human activity up there—a small shack with signs of recent habitation. If someone is there, I’d like to talk to them.”
“Um, don’t you think if somebody is there, and they saw something, they would report it?” Ben asked.
“Think about someone who would live in those conditions and ask yourself if you believe they might fit that old cliché of ‘because you didn’t ask.’ It’s a long shot, but we need to check all the boxes on this.”
Engage at Dawn: First Contact Page 12
