Dominic Conlon - Silent Warpath

Now it was time for Lomax to get tough. ‘What happened?’

DD struggled to sit up. ‘I gave London two names. London found they were being paid by the same corporation.’

‘You mean Advanced Marine Agency?’

‘Yes. I thought I might be able to hack into their wireless network, but two goons grabbed me before I managed to get in.’

Lomax shook his head. ‘I saw it happen. How often have you been told that everything you do, you check with me first?’

DD looked shame faced. ‘I know — I just forgot. I’m sorry. Believe me it won’t happen again.’ DD’s voice was noticeably drowsier as the drugs began to take effect.

‘You’re damn right about that’ said Lomax. ‘It won’t happen again’.

Outside the room Lomax listened as DD’s breathing settled into a rhythm. Lomax took out his cell phone and called Sean. ‘OK I have DD back, safe and sound. He won’t be going off on a jaunt again. He’s a bit roughed up but sleeping it off now.’ Lomax listened briefly. ‘You remember the company where DD was snatched — the Advanced Marine Agency — well I know for definite they’re involved. I’ve also got a name for you: Christopher Schaeffer. He’s the guy DD’s snatch squad reported to. I’ll work on his background.’

‘Does that sound like our target?’ asked Captain Armstrong.

‘Yep’ replied McIver. ‘I don’t know how he got there so fast — let me see a chart will you?’

The Captain looked at the Ensign who immediately fetched a map and spread it out over the table.

‘He’s covered a lot of ground in what — four days?’ said McIver, tracing a line between the original sea trials off the coast of South America and the incident with the Astute in the Gulf of Mexico.

‘Where do you think he’s headed?’ asked Armstrong.

McIver looked up. ‘Beats me Chris. If he carries on up the coast he could go all the way to the arctic.’

‘Or he could turn into any of our ports on the Eastern seaboard.’

‘God help us’ replied McIver. ‘Anyway we need to get ahead of him. We’ve got an idea of direction and speed, so let’s estimate where he’s going to be and have a surprise waiting for him.’

McIver made his way out onto the deck as two helicopters were being readied. The squally rain had lifted leaving a thin sea mist that still clung to the wave tops. Steaming north at full speed for 24 hours they had been joined in the night with the additional resources McIver had promised. Two new frigates lay off their port bow, a new supply ship brought up at the rear and a hunter-killer submarine made up the rest of the combined group. He returned to the bridge.

‘I want to cover as much ocean as possible’ said McIver, leaning over the plot table.

‘Each frigate has a compliment of twenty four helicopters’ said Armstrong. ‘We could rotate four from each ship. That would keep eight helicopters in the air round the clock. If we form two lines of four we could keep each helicopter in line 200 yards from its neighbour.’

Armstrong sketched out his strategy. ‘The second line of four follows a quarter of a mile behind and covers the gaps from the first line. What do you say?’

McIver agreed. ‘If we work to a predefined search pattern we can sweep a path half a mile wide.’

‘We would need to have a pretty accurate estimate of its position — half a mile is nothing in these waters.’

Captain Armstrong gave the orders and they watched as the first helicopters took off. Soon they established their lines, dipping sensitive sonobuoys into the water at different intervals. On board each aircraft a seasoned sonar man listened with a huge pair of earphones. The sonobuoys relayed the faintest sounds back up the helicopter and from there to the sonar room on Armstrong’s cruiser.

McIver knew just what a punishing schedule they were keeping, having been a helicopter pilot himself more than ten years previously. And he knew just how difficult it was to separate biological from mechanical noise when listening to the cacophony of sound that came through the sensitive microphones. He sat next to two men on the sonar desk, clamping a spare set of headphones over his head.

The signals were collated from all the helicopters aloft. They were then filtered by computer and tagged and checked against a database of known shipping. The list included all surface ships and most underwater subs. Armstrong was right, mused McIver. This really was like trying to find the proverbial needle in a haystack. How are we going to find something in this vast ocean, when it’s beyond the range of our instruments to detect?

McIver shook his head. Only the US Navy could have cut orders like this.

‘I’m dying’ said DD putting a hand to his ribs.

Despite the pain killers and sleeping tablets DD woke up in the night with a splitting headache and a fierce pain in the ribs. He managed to lever himself up and just made it to the bathroom in time to be sick. Lomax came in to see him.

‘Dan, I know that you’ve been through a traumatic time. But it’s what you signed up for and why HM Gov pay you a handsome cheque each month.’

DD crawled back into bed. ‘I didn’t sign up to be tortured by sadistic brutes!’

‘If you hadn’t been such an idiot you wouldn’t have been snatched — you’ve only yourself to blame for that’. Lomax was losing patience. ‘Look take another painkiller.’

DD gulped the capsule down with some water. ‘I want to go back’ he said simply. ‘I know I’ve been a stupid fool but I really want to go back home.’

Lomax sat on the bed. ‘You’re not going anywhere until the mission has been completed. What do you think we’re doing here — a holiday with all expenses paid?’ Lomax decided he needed to take a firmer grip.

‘Now you listen to me. We all have to work together — as a team — to get the job done. When the job is done, then we all get to go home.’

DD held his ribs. ‘Thanks for the pep talk Dad, but I can’t work when I’m in so much pain.’

Lomax picked up a small flashlight and checked DD’s eyes again for signs of concussion. There was a slight indication but not enough to call the medic.

‘Do you think Sean would complain and ask to be sent home the first time he has to endure a little rough stuff?’ asked Lomax.

‘I’m not like Sean. I feel things differently and I haven’t had the training he has.’

Lomax got up and pulled up a chair. ‘Before Sean became a marine he had to go on a number of training courses. One time he and a group of other recruits were being lead by two instructors in the Dolomites. One of the instructors was leading on an ice climb. He fell. The rope caught under the legs of three of the trainees and one of them fell 600 feet. They thought he’d died. The second instructor who was at the rear didn’t see what was going on until it was too late. Two trainees managed to grab the rope and dig in and the first instructor was rescued by the second. By the time they had sorted themselves out it was dark and too late to go looking for the fallen trainee. They sent a mayday but the rescue helicopters didn’t fly in the dark. The group camped out and they started looking at first light the next day, but found nothing. They were joined by a mountain rescue team and a helicopter but there was no sign of him.’

DD found himself becoming interested. ‘And I suppose the fallen trainee was Sean?’

Lomax nodded. ‘It turned out that he’d fallen much further than they thought. He landed in a snow drift and was unconscious for several hours. He didn’t realise it then but the fall had ripped his helmet off. He had hit his head against a rock on the way down and hurt his shoulder. When night fell he thought the group had given up searching, so he effected a self-rescue. But because of the shoulder he couldn’t climb very well. What’s more he developed a bad concussion. It was dark before he stopped climbing. He spent the night on a ledge in a snow hole and reached the top early the next morning. By one of those quirks neither the rescue team nor the helicopter spotted him and they abandoned the search on the second day because of bad weather.