U.S.S. Seawolf (53 page)

And
Greenville
had four of them in the water, which quadrupled the confusion factor.

Over in
Vella Gulf
, Captain Freeburg had drawn a bead on
Xiangtan
a long time ago. And now he seized the moment. “Prepare to launch Harpoons One and Two…”

“Launchers One and Two ready.”

“FIRE ONE AND TWO.”

The roar of the aft launch from the two fire-belching missiles was deafening, and the crew members watched them shriek skywards, higher and higher, before turning down at 800 feet to complete their deadly business.

Captain Freeburg, still positioned directly off
Xiangtan
’s port beam, ordered both his five-inch guns, fore and aft, to sink the Chinese destroyer. And the shells arrived before the missiles, slamming into the superstructure of the ship, blasting havoc into the ops room, the bridge, the comms room and the helicopter flight deck.

Colonel Lee ordered retaliatory fire, but he was too late. Both Harpoon missiles crashed into the portside of the
Xiangtan
and exploded with shattering force. The massive
K-E-R-R-R-R-B-A-A-M!
literally blew the Chinese destroyer apart in a massive fireball, black smoke rising in a mushroom cloud 100 feet high into the rainy skies. The ship vanished, leaving only traces of its sudden death and an ever-increasing oil-slick, which spread thinly over the waters of the western Pacific.

Captain Freeburg and his team stood for a while, watching the smoke-cloaked aftermath of the gigantic
destruction they had wrought. And there was not a man among them who was not conscious of some misgivings over the loss of hundreds of lives.

“1 guess they’da done it to us, sir?” said a lieutenant junior grade, a little sheepishly.

“Guess they would at that, Jack. Besides, they probably shoulda thought about all that before they decided to capture a crippled American submarine on the high seas, in international waters, against every kind of maritime law. Wasn’t real smart, right?”

“Nossir.”

Meanwhile, back on
Greenville
, Judd Crocker and Tom Wheaton watched the Emerson decoys do their work. The little computer screens showed the incoming torpedoes pass harmlessly by, one a hundred yards to port, the other even farther to starboard. Neither of them found a target, never even exploded.

Commander Wheaton accessed the UWT once more, heard the news, and announced he was coming to the surface to secure the damage to his sail, “because this sucker’s making a racket which is telling me she ain’t real happy.”

In the next 10 minutes, Admiral Barry detailed
Reuben James
to pick up any survivors, and set a rendezvous for the carrier to make the transfers from the submarine. After that they were heading directly to Pearl, where, for some reason, there was to be a Presidential welcome for the U.S. Navy SEALs and the rescued crew of the USS
Seawolf
.

Midday. Friday, July 21
.
The Oval Office
.

President John Clarke was, for the first time in a six-year association with Admiral Arnold Morgan, profoundly irritated with the man. In fact, he was rapidly being drawn to the conclusion that the fire-eating admiral was growing too big for his boots.

Two hours previous he had issued a presidential memorandum outlining his plans to go to Hawaii early the next week to meet the aircraft carrier
Ronald Reagan
, which was bringing home his son. And almost by return of interoffice communication he had received a reply from Admiral Morgan that had only just stopped short of saying, “Don’t be a prick.”

The actual wording had been, “Not a terribly good idea, sir. In fact, if you stop to give it serious strategic thought, a very bad idea. I’ll be along momentarily to explain precisely why.”

The President was not used to being patronized. But more important, he knew that this was an argument he was
certain to lose because Morgan did not write memorandums like that unless his logic was flawless. However, the President badly wanted to go to meet Linus, and he was damned if this bombastic admiral was going to stop him.

As he waited, in a dark and rather petulant mood, he was giving no thought whatsoever to the fact that Linus lived in the protection of the giant American carrier instead of a Chinese jail as the result of the determination, aggression and intelligence of one man: Arnold Morgan.

No, President Clarke had rather forgotten that. He thought only of the injustice of the situation, that he, the most powerful leader in the free world, was being warned against going to meet his own son,
his only son, for God’s sake
, by some kind of half-assed military red tape. And he was not having that. Nossir. Arnold Morgan could take his rulebook and insert it in the place where the sun does not shine. He, President Clarke, was going to meet his boy in Hawaii, and that was that.

The door was opened and the admiral was shown in, breezily remarking, “Hello, sir. Hey, you look kinda gloomy. What’s up?”

“Arnold, 1 thought your little note was insensitive in the extreme, given that you above all others understand how the capture and possible torture of my son affected me these last couple of weeks.”

“Note, sir? What do you mean?”

“Hawaii, Arnold. Going to Hawaii.”

“Oh that, sir. Right. Just forget all about that. You can do more or less anything you want, sir. But you can’t go to Hawaii.”

“Arnold. Might I ask why not? And who might take it upon themselves to stop me?”

“Sir, I’m just trying to stop you from committing suicide. Politically.”

“Then perhaps you had better explain yourself.”

“Sure. The main issue is USS
Seawolf
…as you know, we just lost it under highly mysterious, but not too sinister
circumstances. Nuclear accident, after collision in the South China Sea, okay? Now, until this moment, the media have taken only a passing interest, because there has not been drastic loss of life, and accidents can happen. Also, they cannot find out much, because when they ask us, we say we’re still awaiting full report from velly solly Chinese pricks. And in Canton and Beijing they will be told nothing.

“Which means it’s all gone fairly quiet. The media have not been told anything about the crew, or the crew’s return, but they presume there will be a Navy statement when they arrive back in San Diego. In the meantime, we’re playing down any kind of drama. Just an accident. Chinese tried to help. But there was a fault in the reactor core.

“Just a valve. We’re secretly pleased it did not happen here. And the Chinese have very gallantly apologized for any part they may have inadvertently played. Not much harm done.

“Now, sir. We know the facts are very, very different from that, correct? We actually blew
Seawolf
to bits, causing a huge nuclear accident in Canton. We then damn nearly went to war with China over your son, Linus. Because, sir, I assure you, we would never have gone that far unless he had been on board. We blew up a jail on a Chinese island, killed up to one hundred Chinese military personnel, and blew up two other ships, one of them the biggest destroyer in the Chinese Navy. We blew up two helicopters, and took this country to a naval standoff out on the edge of the South China Sea. A real, shooting, missile-firing standoff. And in the very first case, we were spying on them with a major American nuclear boat in deepest Chinese national waters.

“That, sir, is without doubt the biggest single military story since Schwarzkopf clobbered the towelheads in the Gulf.”

“I still do not see what that has to do with my going to meet my son.”

“Because, sir, if you go, you will inadvertently take two hundred American media people with you, all of whom will have guessed that Linus either was or may have been on
Seawolf
. They’re gonna want statements, photo opportunities, and God knows what else. And you will have led them right into the middle of the biggest story any of them could imagine…right into the middle of sixty returning U.S. Navy SEALs, and one-hundred-plus returning former captives of the Chinese, all of whom witnessed a full-blooded military battle between the USA and China, with many dead. Make no mistake. This was a small, secret, classified war.”

“Well, I guess we can’t keep the lid on it forever.”

“Sir, we most certainly can. Because the Chinese do not want it publicized any more than we do. For them, it looks like the most terrible loss of face. For us, it looks like reckless military adventurism, bullying on a global scale. Also, we don’t know our own casualties yet. But more important, sir, much more important…you as Commander-in-Chief are going to have to explain the loss of a billion-dollar submarine—a billion dollars to build, plus another billion on research and development. Taxpayers’ money. Is this the most incompetent Navy and the most dubious administration in the entire history of this country? That’s what they’ll ask.

“And you, sir, are attempting to take two hundred of the Fourth Estate’s finest, right into the one place on this earth where they can nail that story right down. Sailors talk. You can try and shut ’em up, but it only takes one with a few beers on board, and you’re looking at a prairie fire.

“If you don’t go to Hawaii, none of them will go either, because they don’t even know the carrier’s calling at Pearl. But if you do go, you will find yourself in a storm of controversy. And the left-wing press will kill you—especially if there’s American dead.”

“But Arnold, Linus will expect me to be there. And after all he’s gone through…just imagine how bad he’ll feel.”

“Probably not as bad as if he were still in the slammer on Xiachuan Dao.”

“Arnold, with the greatest respect, I do not think you are hearing me.”

“Sir, if you still wish to make that point, you are most certainly not hearing me…in which case I will have to be blunt. Mr. President, if this little lot somehow gets into the media, it could bring down your administration. It would just be a matter of time before someone asked,
Did this President actually go to war in secret with the People’s Republic of China in order to save his son’s ass?

“Sir, I cannot let you do this. You cannot go to Pearl to meet the carrier. And if you attempt to do so, the carrier will be diverted and head straight back to the USA. I cannot let you do this to yourself. Do you really want to be up there on the goddamned television explaining how we managed to LOSE a nine-thousand-ton nuclear submarine…sir, please…I promised you I’d get him back…now you have to promise me you’ll let us handle the aftermath. Remember, sir. I did it for you.”

The President stood and nodded gravely. “I understand, Arnold. Truly I do. And I am grateful to you. And I would like to ask you one favor.”

“Sure.”

“Will you go and spend the next twenty minutes trying to think of a way for me to go and meet my boy? With no harm done. Not like you just explained.”

The National Security Adviser smiled. “Okay, sir. Gimme a little time. I’ll be back in thirty…but don’t hold your breath.”

“Thanks, Arnie. I’d appreciate it.”

Admiral Morgan walked back to his office slowly, which was rare since he normally hit a pace containing the inertia of an aircraft carrier. He always looked as if he might walk straight through any door he approached with a splintering of wood and wrenching of hinges. But this was a slow walk, and he executed it with his head down, lost in thought.

“
Am I seeing things
,” he muttered, “
or is this President losing his grip? Jesus Christ, I just told him the facts of life in words of one syllable, and he did not quite get it. That’s not like him at all. This Linus crap has affected him. No doubt of that. As it might affect any father, faced with the terror of his son’s torture on the other side of the world. But we got him out of that, and he ought to be through it. At least, he ought to be if he wants to stay on in that office
.

“
Right now he’s too preoccupied with that boy to be any good to anyone.…Christ, he must see the danger of taking the Washington press corps to Pearl, which is what would happen, whether he likes it or not. He answers to the people, and that means the press…it ain’t great, because they’re about as loyal to this nation as the fucking Chinese. But that’s show business, Johnny-baby, and you gotta live with ’em
.”

He rounded the corner to his office, and entered the outer area, where Kathy was on the telephone. “Come on in, soon as you’re through,” he said, and continued walking slowly to his desk.

Three minutes later, she came in and closed the door behind her. “Don’t tell me,” she said. “He wants you to go to Hawaii with him, while I stay here and look after the store.”

“Wrong. On both counts. He ain’t going anywhere near Hawaii, and neither are we. Which has left one surly little Oklahoman in the Oval Office.”

“You didn’t tell him he couldn’t go, did you? He is the President.”

“Yes, I did tell him. And I told him that if he wanted to go on being President, he better see sense over this particular issue.”

“This, Arnold, is a Linus issue. And if you’d told me where you were going I’d have told you to keep quiet. He’s developing an obsession over that boy. I would not” be surprised if he converts to Catholicism as a result of the safe delivery of Linus from death.”

“I know. You told me all about that church business.”

“Arnie, you know what I think…just from talking to him…when he heard there was a possibility of torture, he fixed in his mind a picture of sweet freckle-faced Linus as a little boy back home in Oklahoma. And whenever he though of torture—red-hot pokers up your butt or whatever—he thought of the desecration of that little boy. There’s a psychologist’s name for it—kind of worst-case-scenario in terms of the psyche. And I think he still has that picture in his mind, which is clouding his judgment on all matters. All he wants is to put his arms around his little boy.”

“Kathy, I don’t know if that’s right. But it sure does fit…that’s what I’m hearing from him. Even after I laid on him the calamitous consequences of going to Pearl, he still just asked me to try to find a way to make it possible for him to see Linus again, the minute they dock in Hawaii…and I’m not going to be able to do that…and he’s gonna be real disappointed.”

He and Kathy had lunch together, sharing one medium-sized tuna fish sandwich, which caused the boss to wonder if she was expecting a kitten for lunch. But he ate it in a couple of bites, and gulped down a glass of mineral water and prepared to talk again to the President.

“Two things are now for certain in this uncertain place,” he growled. “The Chief ain’t gonna like what I’m telling him, and tonight we ate going to find some proper food…steak magnifico, with fries and spinach…and wine from the great vineyards of Bordeaux, left bank of the Gironde…Pauillac, home of the snorto de luxe.”

Kathy wanted to tell him it was Friday and that she was supposed to be having fish, as she always had since childhood, but she was laughing too much to speak coherently, and just shook her head as the President’s NSA strode purposefully back to the Oval Office.

“Sir,” he told the boss, “you cannot go. It’s too public, too dangerous, we’re too vulnerable, and you’d end up getting the sack or being impeached, and the Democrats
would be back in power…the most I can offer you is to fly a half-dozen of
Seawolf
’s officers in direct from Hawaii on some pretense. Also, maybe the top SEALs, all to San Diego. Then maybe Linus and one or two significant other personnel could fly on to Washington, and we can pick him up and deliver him wherever in secret. That’s the most. Hawaii is out, out, out. Mr. President, you’re staying in, in, in.”

Even President Clarke was obliged to chuckle. “Are you sure you’re not overreacting to all this, Arnie? I just want to meet his ship, like any other dad.”

“What you are not, sir, is any other dad. The U.S. made mistakes on this. Do you really want all of that to come out? Don’t answer. You don’t. Trust me. I’m leaving you with just one thought. This afternoon I’m bringing Who Flung Dung in for a chat. By seventeen-hundred the recent events that took place in the China Sea NEVER HAPPENED. Both our governments will agree for different but equally subversive reasons, all to do with total embarrassment.”

And he stood, preparing to leave, saying very simply, “You want me to get Linus home, by air, in secret, as fast as possible?”

“Arnold, thank you. I’d be more grateful than you’ll ever know.”

1530. Friday. July 21
.
Office of the CNO. The Pentagon
.

“Joe, I’m telling you, we have a real problem here. The President’s lost the plot.”

“What do you mean, he’s lost the plot? Come on, Arnie, this is the best President the military has ever had.”

“That may be so. But right now, he’s a goddamned time bomb. The only thing in his mind is his son Linus: He actually wanted to go to Hawaii and meet the kid, complete with the omnipotent Washington press corps.
All two hundred of them, all asking every sailor in Pearl Harbor precisely what happened in the South China Sea.”