TSUNAMI STORM (16 page)

U.S.S. Massachusetts, Pacific Ocean, Off the Coast of California

Jacobs saw Silverton enter the control center of the
Massachusetts.
Eight hours had passed and they had covered 345 miles of ocean without a hint of the ghost sub. “Any luck?” Silverton asked.

Jacobs shook his head. “Maybe we’re not thinking this through right.”

“Like what?” Silverton asked.

“What if the ghost sub is just heading in close to the shore and dropping off a landing party? They could accomplish their mission and be gone long before we can cover the area, and we have no idea what their mission could be. We’re throwing guesses at this thing.”

“Well,” Silverton replied, “all we have is speculation at this point. What does your gut tell you?”

“It doesn’t feel like a hit and run operation. I think they are sneaking around out there, somewhere, doing something and trying not to get caught.”

“Chances are COMSUBPAC has other subs out there looking for the ghost sub, too. We can’t be the only one searching the area.”

“It’s just that it’s such a damn big area,” Jacobs said. “We’re looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack, and at this point, we’re not even sure which field the haystack is in.”

Jacobs looked around the control center. Everything was operating smoothly.

“I can take over if you’d like to take a nap,” Silverton said. “We’ll be passing San Francisco in another hour.”

“I think I’ll do that,” Jacobs replied and then announced, “XO has the con.”

Jacobs retired to his cabin, removed his shoes, shirt and pants, hung them up in the small closet and picked up the report on the ghost sub. He settled back on his bed and read the report again.
All of the Alfas were decommissioned and supposedly scrapped. Yet here is the screw signature, unique to this sub. Even the huge Typhoon Class Ballistic Missile submarines are mostly gone, only one is known to be even partially operational. And what is a Russian sub doing in American waters? This is a play right out of the Cold War era.

Jacobs knew that Russia had been facing hard economic times. Dozens of the older Russian submarines were sitting, tied to piers, rusting for lack of simple maintenance. Many of them were now for sale in the hope of receiving some hard currency, desperately needed by the struggling government. Buying an older sub was a lot cheaper than trying to build a new one. But with age, came problems and obsolete equipment, and reliability of the hull structure was of concern. But, it was a tradeoff that many countries were willing to make.

The old Alfa hulls were Titanium, light weight yet very strong, and they didn’t rust like the steel hulls did. The Alfas were worth more as scrap metal than they were as functioning submarines in most cases. The primary reason they were decommissioned and scrapped wasn’t because of their hulls, it was because of their liquid metal reactors, which couldn’t be easily shut down and which required an extraordinary amount of maintenance, making them very expensive to operate. The reactor had to be kept warm to keep the metal alloy in the primary loop from solidifying. In all, the huge maintenance expense was primarily why they were scrapped. But what if one of them was secretly sold? The screw signature was from the last Alfa to be decommissioned. This was certainly a mystery, and one that needed to be solved, soon.

Office of Covert Operations, the Pentagon

Senator Bechtel was guided through the halls of the Pentagon to Admiral Billingsly’s office.

“Senator,” Billingsly said as she entered. “What brings you to my little corner of the world?”

She chuckled at his reference to what he does as a little corner of the world. She closed the door and turned to face him. “I know you’re busy – so am I, so can we drop the pleasantries and get right down to business?” She noticed a mischievous grin on his face as he extended his arm toward a chair. She sat. “I trust you know who I am.”

“I do,” he replied.

“I know about the A4 facility in Alaska.” She watched his expression closely. His grin slowly faded. “I also know it’s in violation of the U.N. Weather Weapons Treaty. What I don’t know is why you used that weapon against China.” She didn’t have any hard evidence that he had, but a strong suspicion always made for a good bluff. She stared straight into his eyes to gauge his response.
Since he’s not denying the accusation I might as well push the point further and see what he does.

He glanced away and leaned back in his padded chair. “As you are well aware, I can’t comment on speculation. If, as you suggest, an illegal weapon was used, the country affected would have the right to go to the U.N. Security Council and lodge a formal complaint, which would be investigated. I am unaware of any such complaint.”

“And if there were a complaint, the United States, as a permanent member of the U.N. Security Council, would simply veto any action proposed by China, just as they would do to us.” She paused to see if he would respond. He didn’t. China, like the U.S., is one of six members of the U.N. Security Council with the power to veto anything the U.N. proposed. “You don’t consider what China is doing as a form of complaint?”

“I wouldn’t presume to know why the Chinese do anything, Senator. Why would you?”

“Well, I think it’s obvious. China believes it has been attacked. By us. More specifically, by you.” She sat in silence, maintaining eye contact. It was one of those challenges where the first one to speak loses. He broke eye contact, but didn’t say anything.
He did attack China.
She thought.
The question is: did he have official authorization, or is he doing this on his own? And if it was authorized, who gave the order?
She continued to stare at him for two long, agonizing minutes.

“Frankly, Senator,” he finally said, “you’re wandering where you don’t belong.”

A threat
, she thought.
No. Not a threat; a warning. What is he doing? I came in here and challenged him; accused him. He didn’t counterattack, he didn’t throw me out of his office, he’s strictly playing defense. Why? Is he afraid of me? If he had authorization to attack China he would have the support and protection of the people above him. He could afford to be confrontational with me, but he isn’t doing that. He must have acted alone. He doesn’t want to be exposed. He doesn’t need the conflict; he needs an ally. But, why should I be that ally?

“I didn’t come here looking for blood, Admiral. I came for understanding. You’re in a position to help me understand what is happening, and why.”
If he wants me to be his ally, he has to give me something in return. Quid pro quo.
She watched as he fidgeted and glanced around.

“Everything I’m involved in is highly classified and extremely sensitive,” he said finally.

“As you are aware, I’m on the Intelligence Committee. I know about the A4 and what it can do. I’m just trying to figure out how far China is willing to push the situation and what kind of damage we’re looking at.”

He scoffed. “It’s already too late for that.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. Her heart began to race as the fear rose within her chest.
Something’s already happening? It has to be a recent event I haven’t recognized, it has to be different from what has already happened.
Her mind raced through every potential threat that had been recently mentioned.
Was everything China was doing just a cover for something more devastating?
The look on Billingsly’s face told her he wanted her to figure out what it was. “Hurricane Loretta,” she said as calmly as she could. She watched as his expression shifted from expectation to relief. “Why are we…”

“Don’t be naive, Senator. We’re not the only ones with this technology.”

“China? China’s creating and directing Loretta? Can’t we use the facility to stop it?”

“It doesn’t work that way. You add energy to create the storm. We currently don’t have the means of taking energy out of a weather system.”

“Okay,” she replied, “but if China had this facility, why did we risk causing the earthquake?” She saw the dejected look on his face. “They didn’t, did they?”

“It’s new. It’s a major shift in the world power structure,” Billingsly said.

She sat back in her chair and breathed out heavily. Thoughts raced through her mind. “How bad do you think it would be?”

“Loretta is already a Category two hurricane and building rapidly. Think Katrina, on steroids.”

“Primary target?”

“Seattle, Washington. Your state of Oregon won’t fare very well either. With Portland sitting in a river valley like it is, you can expect heavy damages there, as well.”

She considered everything she had learned. He didn’t seem willing to add anything more. “Thank you, Admiral,” she said as she stood and turned toward the door. She stopped and turned back toward him. “We’re on the same team, Admiral. Please let me know if anything changes.” He didn’t respond. He just sat there and watched her leave.

Dolphin Beach, Oregon

Willa visited Gladys at the Chamber of Commerce office.

“So how bad is the news?” Willa asked.

“With the heavy rain and storm coming in, many of the tourists are leaving and the cancellations have started. This is going to hurt Dolphin Beach, a lot. With hurricane Loretta at a category three and 120 MPH sustained winds, it’s not only going to ruin the rest of the season, the damage to our buildings from the storm surge and waves is going to be horrendous. I’ve seen this before when I lived on the North Shore of Hawaii. Right now the winds are out of the south. We have rain but no storm surge. Once the hurricane passes to the north and swings inland, the wind will be out of the west, coming straight off the water. Then you can expect the sea level to raise ten to fifteen feet with 30 foot waves on top of that.”

Willa sighed and looked down at the counter. “People are going to lose their homes.”

“Yeah,” Gladys replied, “and their businesses.”

Willa drummed her fingers on the counter. “What I don’t understand is what is a storm of this size doing this far north. I mean, aren’t these storms a tropical thing?”

“Not necessarily,” Gladys replied. “The Northeast gets storms like this every few years.”

“But I’ve lived here all of my life, and I don’t remember a storm like this. Was there one?”

“Hang on,” Gladys said as she accessed her computer. “Let me see… Huh.”

“What? What is it?”

“Nineteen thirty nine, a hurricane hit Southern California. Forty-five people died.”

“Okay,” Willa replied, “that’s Southern California. What about here?”

Gladys tapped away on her keyboard. “We’ve got records from 1900 until now. Pacific hurricanes… Mexico, Hawaii, there’s the one in Southern California.”

“What about here?”

Gladys looked at her. “There weren’t any.”

“Wait a minute,” Willa said, “you’re telling me there has never been a storm like this off Oregon or Washington before?”

“Nope,” Gladys replied. “Not in our recorded history.”

“Then why do we have one now?”

“Climate change?”

Jason
, she thought.
He said the pattern of the earthquakes was un-natural. This hurricane has to be as un-natural as the earthquakes. Could they be related?
She pulled her cell phone out and punched in her sister’s number. “This is Willa McBride. Is she available?” She waited. “Liz, this storm in the Pacific Northwest. What’s going on?”

She heard her sister breathe out quickly. “Sis, it’s going to get bigger. You need to take every precaution to protect the people of Dolphin Beach.”

“How much bigger?”

“A lot. We’re looking at tens of billions of dollars in damages. Do whatever you have to do to protect your people.”

“How soon?” Willa asked.

Her sister paused. “Five days, eight, max.”

Willa felt like her head was spinning. “What can we do?”

Another pause. “Listen, Willa, you’re going to have to evacuate Dolphin Beach. There isn’t going to be any other option. Prepare your people. When the evacuation order comes, get everybody out – fast.”

“Okay, thanks.” She looked up.

Gladys had a worried expression on her face. “Bad?”

Willa’s heart was crying inside her chest. She didn’t think it could be any worse. “We’re going to have to abandon Dolphin Beach.”

Chinese Submarine, Pacific Ocean, Off the Coast of California

Guang Xi was in the torpedo room reviewing his maps of the Cascadia Subduction Zone that had been recorded by a Chinese spy ship the year before. Captain Hu Xiao entered and Guang Xi approached him.

“We need to place these mines exactly on the fault line. How will we know exactly where we are in relation to this map?” Guang Xi asked.

“We have modified the side sonar and placed three new sonar nests on the bottom of the sub,” the Captain replied. “We will use a single very weak sonar pulse in the ultrasonic range aimed at the bottom of the ocean. The new sonar array will give us a three dimensional image of the ocean floor, very similar to the map you have. The targeting computer in the sonar room will give you our exact position. When the mine lands on the bottom of the ocean floor we will hear it and the computer will give us its precise location.”

“Okay, that will work,” Guang Xi replied. “The first mine is the least critical, so that will allow me to make corrections for how long the mine will drop for all of the others.”

“We have reduced speed to eight knots for silent operation. We will reach your first target in twenty eight minutes.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Guang Xi said. “I will be ready.” Then he thought of something. “Captain, can we go any deeper? The bottom of the Subduction Zone is still more than 6,400 feet down. That’s a long way for the mine to fall.”

The Captain paused. “This is the deepest we tested for in the sea trials. Theoretically we can go down another 500 feet, but the sub is old, and if something happens at that depth, we all die and the mission is lost. There would be no way to recover from a mistake.”

“Given the risk of losing the mission,” Guang Xi said, “the potential loss of accuracy isn’t worth the risk of losing the entire sub. Besides, as we had said, the first mine will give me an exact fall time so I can adjust for all of the other mines.” The only thing he could do now was take a guess. He tried to estimate the weight of the mine, the surface area and resistance of the mine and probable terminal velocity which depended on the density of the water, which, of course, increased with depth. He ran through some trial calculations. The variations were just too great.

“Captain,” Guang Xi asked, “how slow can we go over the target area?”

“Technically, as slow as you want, but the speed becomes irregular below one knot.”

“No, we need a speed where we can exactly duplicate the conditions every time,” Guang Xi replied.

“Then one knot is it,” the Captain replied.

“That would reduce our margin of error by a factor of eight. It will increase our time from target to target slightly, but it’s still within workable limits.” Guang Xi ran through his calculations again. “Yes, as we approach the target, reduce speed to one knot. Once the mine is released we can resume speed.”

“As you wish,” the Captain replied.

As they approached the Mendocino Triple Junction, the Captain slowed to one knot. Guang Xi decided to set the timer on the first mine to exactly 72 hours. That would give them time to deploy each mine and move away at high speed once the last mine was deployed. They would be a hundred miles away when the mines went off. He made his best guess at the fall time. The sailor in the sonar room pulsed the sonar transponder and three seconds later an image of the ocean floor appeared on the screen in the torpedo room. Guang Xi made his final calculations and activated the mine. The sailor in the torpedo room closed the door to the torpedo tube, flooded the tube and opened the outer door. He told Guang Xi he was ready. Guang Xi looked at his watch and counted down the seconds. At the calculated time he pushed the large button that launched the mine into the sea. The sailor notified the Captain that the mine had been launched and the sub increased speed to eight knots. Five minutes and forty two seconds later the mine hit the bottom of the ocean floor. The sound of the impact, registered by the hydrophones mounted on the sub, created an image on the computer screen showing the exact location of the mine. Guang Xi compared his calculations to the actual fall time. He was off by thirty-three seconds, which put the mine fifty feet off target; close enough for the first mine.

Just under two hours later the sub slowed again to one knot. The mine was again placed in the torpedo tube with the timer facing the opening. The soft sonar pulse gave them the surface contour of the ocean bottom. Guang Xi compared the contour to his map, made his calculations, and set the timer. The sailor closed the torpedo door, flooded the tube and opened the outer door. Guang Xi counted down the seconds and pushed the button that launched the second mine. When the mine hit the bottom, Guang Xi examined the image and smiled. The mine landed exactly on target.  Guang Xi’s punishment of America had begun.