Steve Abbott - Devil's Gambit

Abrahams thumped back in his chair. “Military intelligence? Don’t swear around me Captain.”

Gayle suppressed a smile, “No, sir.”

“And you are positive about the warhead type?”

“I personally verified it at the rocket site in question.”

Abrahams suddenly looked very tired. “And I would guess that you and your stone-faced partners are aware there are reports of the North Koreans having a SCUD delivery system variant with a one thousand kilometer range.”

Gayle met the Admiral’s gaze, “We are aware.”

He looked back down at the report. “And these three devices are most likely on board a DPRK submarine?”

“Yes sir. As you can see by the notes, a Lynx Helicopter from the HMS Bloodhound spotted a freighter of North Korean registry holding station off the coast of South Africa, in what they described as heavy seas. They were almost at the ship when it exploded and sank. Unfortunately, due to weather conditions and lack of fuel at the time, they could not locate and destroy the sub. A torpedo was dropped. It failed to hit the target. The sub, as far as we know, escaped.”

“Have the President and the Joint Chiefs been briefed yet on this situation?”

I assume so. We have been submitting regular reports back to Washington. For the most part though, we’ve been on our own.”

“So you don’t know for sure that your reports are getting to the President.”

“Sir, this is a top priority mission. I’m sure the President is getting a regular brief on this situation.”

“Well, Captain, before I go hunting for this sub and possibly restart a war, the Joint Chiefs and the President will be personally updated by me.”

Gayle started to protest. “But I…”

Abrahams’s face darkened. “Captain, you have obviously been running on fumes for some time now, so I will just chalk that up to fatigue and let it slide. I understand your concern, but don’t worry, I will deal with the sub as best I can right now. These are my ships, my men and my responsibility. Our government trusts me to do what is right and has trained me to that end. You, I am sure, are very good at what you do, but I doubt you would be very good at what I do. This is my piece of ocean and I know not every solution is a military one. Politics lurk in every fold of a wave out here.”

His expression softened. “You and your partners look beat. One of my stewards will escort you to the guest staterooms so you can clean up and get some rest.”

Gayle looked like she was going to protest again.

The Admiral made a calming motion with his hand. “Relax Captain. One of my men will notify you the moment something develops.”

Abrahams leafed through the last pages of the NEST report. It was a frightening document. With the present capability of North Korean Rocket Forces enhanced SCUDS, his task force, in fact any ships operating from the South China Sea right into the Indian Ocean, were in danger of a nuclear attack. If it had been any other country seeking to secure this kind of capability and join that most exclusive membership in the nuclear club, Abrahams would have been inclined to dismiss this kind of paranoia. But these were North Koreans and they were a very serious people. Still frowning, he picked up his phone and dialed the bridge.

“Bridge. Commander Sorra.”

Abrahams’s voice was grave. “Jeff, looks like we have a situation brewing. Get Tom and everybody together in the briefing room.” He checked his watch. “By twenty-one hundred.”

“That bad, boss?”

Abrahams was suddenly very tired. “Yeah Jeff, looks that way. Better tell the Skips on all of our Oliver Hazard Perrys to get their birds up and dipping to the west of us. I want every Orion they can throw out of Kadina in the air and in front of my task force. Tell them they can start dropping sonobouys from the end of the runway.” He looked down at the file again. With a heavy sigh, the die was cast. “Ah hell, better get the boys rounded up now. This can’t wait.”

“Aye, sir.” The line went dead. Abrahams punched up the Central Communications Room.

“CCR. Master Seaman Donaldson.”

“Abrahams, get me CINCPAC now.”

“Aye, sir.”

Seconds later, he was patched through a secure military communications satellite to the offices of the Commander in Chief Pacific Forces. CINCPAC had gone home for the evening, so the Admiral’s call was forwarded through the Base Exchange to his house.

Vice Admiral William Collingsworth was hosting his usual Saturday night poker game. He was not impressed when his wife came to the doorway with a cordless phone in her hand.

She held the phone out, with her left hand over the receiver. “It’s for you, dear.”

Collingsworth pushed his reply around his cigar. “Tell ’em I’ll call ’em back.”

“It’s Doug Abrahams.”

“Damn!” He threw his hand down on the table. His bluff had been on the verge of succeeding. “I’ll take it in the den, Grace.”

He sat behind his sea desk and picked up the phone. To Abrahams, Collingsworth always sounded like a bulldog chewing on nails. “Collingsworth. This had better be good Doug. You cost me some money.”

“Sorry, Bill. Did I screw up a really good hand?”

Doug Abrahams had been a Saturday night regular at the Collingsworth home. He knew how serious the boss took his Saturday nights. Collingsworth regarded Abrahams as one of the finest young Admirals in the fleet. For him to call, it had to be a very serious situation indeed. “Don’t worry about the game, Doug. What’s on your mind?”

Abrahams got to the point. “What do you know about a phantom North Korean submarine loaded with nuclear warheads?”

Collingsworth looked to see that the incoming call was scrambled. “Jesus, Doug, who told you this?”

“A little bird in Air Force blue just handed me a very complete file. Why wasn’t I notified by the joint chiefs about this?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. When Collingsworth spoke, it was in careful and measured tones. “We weren’t sure the warheads didn’t go to the bottom with that freighter. The joint chiefs didn’t want to do anything that might inflame the Korean situation.”

Abrahams kept the anger in his voice barely in check. “So you were prepared to sacrifice my fleet instead?”

“Of course not, Doug. I take it you have taken precautions.”

“The alert boosted our status to DEFCON 2 and I now have a North Korean sub with nuclear warheads on board heading right towards my picket line. You’re damn right precautions have been taken. I just put a call out to Kadina and told them to get every Orion they have in the air on their way to our positions. Sonobouys are going to be in short supply if you boys expect me to nail this guy. I’m going to need you to release at least one AWACS for command and control. My E2C Hawkeyes aren’t up to the task of running the show if we get into a full scale countrywide fur ball out here. With the fighter wings out at Pusan, and Kadina on alert as well, the unfriendly skies could get real crowded. I want to only splash bad guys, not friendlies. If that sub is out there, it and its cargo are going straight to the bottom.”

“It’s your call, Doug. Do what you think best. I’ll try to get a couple of A3s released out of Okinawa, but it could be iffy. It’s bad enough having your carrier group out there, and AWACS floating around outside of NK airspace could set the bastards off. Washington still doesn’t want to jeopardize any talks. It’s still going to be your call. Any decision you make, I will back to the hilt.”

“You mean that? Because if it hits the fan out here, it’s likely that the whole mess is going to blow up in our faces.”