Stephen Coonts - Combat

“Yes, sir.”

“Prepare to get under way,” he told his Chief of Boat. “We’re done waiting.”

By the time McGarvey and Hanrahan changed clothes and were led down one deck and forward to the officers’ wardroom directly beneath the attack center, the Seawolf had already started down. The XO, Lieutenant Commander Rod Paradise, who had been waiting for them when they emerged from the escape trunk, shook his head and grinned. “It’s getting to be a habit, picking you up,” he told McGarvey. “This is one time I think the captain is finally going to be surprised.”

On a mission last year the Seawolf had rescued him from the Japanese Space Center on the island of Tanegashima. While aboard he’d gotten to know the captain and some of the crew. He had developed a great deal of respect for them. It was one of the reasons he wanted this sub for the mission. Harding was unflappable.

“I’d take five dollars of that,” McGarvey said.

Paradise started to say something, but then shook his head. “I don’t think I’d care to bet against you after all.”

The angle on the bow was sharp. Harding was wasting no time getting back to the protection of the thermocline. But it made walking difficult, especially down ladders.

“Here we are,” Paradise said, shoving back the curtain.

Harding was just pouring a cup of coffee. He turned around and smiled pleasantly. “Ah, McGarvey. It’s nice to see you again.” After the Tanegashima mission they had gotten together with their wives for drinks and dinner in Washington. The women had gotten along very well, and McGarvey and Harding had talked over dinner and then at the bar afterward until midnight. There didn’t seem to be a subject that they disagreed on.

“Hello, Tom. Thanks for the lift.”

“Getting off the George must have been interesting.”

“Next time I’ll leave it to the kids,” McGarvey said. “This is Lieutenant Hank Hanrahan. He’s along for the ride.”

The captain noticed the SEAL insignia. “I suspect that you’re going to have an interesting time of it.”

“Yes, sir,” Hanrahan agreed happily.

They sat down at the compact table, and Paradise poured them coffee. If anything, it was better than the coffee on the George , which was going some because the carrier was the flag vessel for both fleets during this operation.

“Okay, Mac, you’re aboard safe and sound, and a lot of people went through a whole lot of trouble to get you here, so what’s the program?” Harding asked. He was not a man to beat around the bush; not with his questions, nor with his orders. When you dealt with Harding you were dealing with a straight shooter. It was one of the qualities McGarvey liked about the man.

McGarvey handed him the carte blanche letter from the President. Harding quickly read it and handed it back. He was not overly impressed.

McGarvey handed him another envelope, this one sealed. “Once you’ve taken a look at that you’re committed, Tom.”

A flinty look came into the captain’s eyes. “I wouldn’t have picked you up if I wasn’t already committed.”

“No one outside of this room can know what the real mission is.”

Harding considered it for a moment. He looked at Hanrahan. “Do you know what this contains, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, sir.”

Harding opened the envelope, quickly scanned the three pages it contained, then read them again before handing them to his XO. This time he was impressed.

“You’ll have to maintain radio silence,” McGarvey said. “We’re on our own now until we get back to Pearl, no matter what happens.”

“All this because the old men in Beijing are frightened,” Harding said, amazed. “But this isn’t all of it. There’s more.”

“Frightened men are capable of just about anything.”

“The question becomes how far are we willing to go to protect an ally,” Harding mused. “We’re talking about the potential for a nuclear exchange here. So I suppose just about anything should be considered. Even a stunt as harebrained as this one.”

McGarvey didn’t have a chance to answer before Harding cut him off.

“I think it’s worth a try, Mac,” he said. He glanced at Hanrahan. “When I said interesting, that was one hell of an understatement.”

Paradise finished reading the mission statement, then reached behind him and took out a chart of northern Taiwan and the waters around it. They moved the coffee cups so that he could spread it out on the table.

“Keelung will be your best bet,” Harding said. “It’s a big enough city so you might not be noticed. And if we make our approach from the southeast, we’ll have deep water to within just a few miles of the coast.”

“That’s what we thought,” McGarvey agreed. “We can get transportation there, and Taipei is only fifteen miles away.”

“We can supply you with an inflatable and a muffled outboard, but you’ll have to find someplace secure to hide it. I expect that the Taiwanese are a little jumpy about now. They’ll have plenty of shore patrols out and about.”

“We’re going in as just about who we really are,” McGarvey explained. “We’re American military advisors, so it’ll be up to the Taiwanese to keep quiet about us. It’s something they’ll understand.”

“Okay, so that gets you to Taipei, then what?” Paradise asked. “It’s a big city, maybe two million people.”

“That’s why they pay me the big bucks, Rod, to figure out things like that,” McGarvey said. There was no reason for him or Harding to know what that part of the plan was. In fact no one knew, not even Hanrahan. Nor would they ever.

“How about a time line, then?” Harding asked.

“If we’re not back in twenty-four hours, get the hell out, someplace where you can phone home and let them know that we’re overdue. The mission name is MAGIC LANTERN.”

“What’s the earliest we can expect you?”

“That depends on when you get us to Keelung.”

“We could have them ashore by midnight,” Paradise said, looking up from the chart. “Even if we take it slow and easy.”

“In that case with any luck we’ll be back before sunrise,” McGarvey said. “But the bad news is you’ll have to surface.”

“We can mask just about any surface radar, but if a surveillance aircraft or fighter/interceptor gets close enough, the game will be up.”

“We’ll have to take the chance.”

“You’re bringing something or someone aboard?”

“Something like that.”

Harding looked at the mission outline again. “We have one thing going for us. This side of the island is fairly secure. If the PRC makes a move, they’ll come from the west. The bulk of Taiwan’s ASW assets are directed that way.” He looked up. “Getting in and out will be the least of our problems, I think. Your mission ashore will be the tough nut to crack.”

“Like I said, Tom, that’s why they pay me the big bucks,” McGarvey replied.

“Conn, sonar.”

Heishui grabbed the phone. “This is the captain.”

“Sir, Sierra Eighteen is on the move. She just turned southeast, relative bearing two-zero-eight, and she’s making turns for ten knots.”

Heishui turned to his Officer of the Deck. “Turn right to two-zero-eight, and make your speed ten knots.”

“Aye, sir. Make my course two-zero-eight, my speed one-zero knots.”

Heishui turned back to the phone. “If he starts to make a clearing turn, or you even think that he might be about to do it, let me know immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

Heishui replaced the phone. “Prepare to commence all stop and emergency silent operations on my command,” he told his COB.