Roger Ellis - AK-239

He falls back in pain.

I pick up the phone and answer it. On the other end of the phone in Farsi a man says,

“General, we are now ready to launch all of our Shahab 4s on your command.”

I recognize this is Farsi but don’t really understand what was said.

The general starts screaming in Farsi,

“Launch all of your missiles at the American cities now.”

An Iranian commando pops out of nowhere at my ‘6’ and shoves a gun in my back.

“Drop your weapon.”

I could fight but I’ll be shot before I can wheel around.

I release my gun and the little Iranian general confidently stands, still holding his bleeding eye.

“You will now give me your gun.”

A tense moment ensues as I’m frozen.

I decide I don’t have any choice when I see another man walk to the door on the far side of the bridge.

“What the hell is going on here….”

It’s Stone and his timing couldn’t have been better or worse… depending on where you are in the room.

The Iranian soldier wheels around to shoot Stone. I clock the little general again with the butt of my gun while simultaneously shooting the Iranian soldier.

A second Iranian is about to shoot Stone in his back when a bullet rings out and knocks the second Iranian soldier to the ground dead as well.

Stone and I both raise our weapons at each other not knowing from where the last bullet came.

After a tense standoff Jennifer walks into the room, soaking wet.

“The Navy didn’t train me for this shit!”

I’m so relieved to see her but she doesn’t look in the mood for anything.

So, again, I hold it all inside.

“Who the hell are you?” says Stone.

“We’re FBI!” I say.

Stone isn’t impressed.

“Got any ID?” Stone asks.

Ya, it’s at the bottom of this bay”

Still suspicious Stone asks, “What’s your name?”

“John Denning, Special Agent, FBI.”

Where you from?”

“Portland, Oregon,” I answer.

Anybody could know that,” Stone says.

I throw my hands in the air as Stone looks to maybe shoot me.

“Don’t make any sudden moves,” says Stone.

“Why? Would it make any difference?”

I guess I was in no mood for an idiot. So I make all sorts of sudden moves.

“All right, all right, stop it!” says Stone.

Then Stone looks to Jennifer.

“And you?”

“Jennifer Tavana, Special Agent, FBI Juneau.”

“I’m guessing you’re the idiot Chief of Police here.”

Stone still doesn’t answer.

“What is it with you people?” says Stone.

Jennifer says, “Who you calling, you people?”

Stone ignores her not understanding the insult. Instead he picks up General Bahadur by the nap of his neck and pokes his finger in his eye.

“And who the hell is this?”

I look at Jennifer trying to figure out if this General Patton or just an idiot.

“I’m only asking one more time, then I’m poking your eye out. Who are you?”

“The general screams in pain.”

“General Bahadur.”

Well, now, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?

“And who’s sub is that?

No answer so Stone shoves his finger a little further into the general’s bleeding eye.

“Mine. It’s mine.”

And you’re Russian?

Both stare at each other a moment. Bahadur knows what’s coming so just gives up.

“Iranian.”

“Why are you guys shooting at each other in my town?”

“I will not say any more.” says General Bahadur.

Just then Tony, Stone’s son, comes running onto the bridge.

Jennifer, Stone and I almost shoot him.

“Son, how many times do I have to tell you, never, never run into a gunfight.”

I say, “Gee that’s funny, that’s all I’ve been trained to do.”

“SEAL huh, well that’s just crazy!” says Stone.

“You got that right,” I say disgustedly.

“This is my idiot son, Tony, everybody!” says Stone.

“Thanks dad,” says Tony, clearly not happy.

The general pipes up, “You can kill me but you will never get my submarine. I am Brigadier General Bahadur.”

“Was anyone talking to you: Bad Odor?” says Stone.

General Bahadur confidently says, “We have ICBM’s aboard that will destroy all your American cities and there is nothing you people can do to stop us.”

Just then all of the remaining ballistic missile hatches open on the Iranian submarine and fire begins shooting out of all of them as the missiles prepare for launch. The fire flies into the air fifty feet above the sub’s hull.

All five of us, Bahadur, Stone, Tony, Jen and myself just stand with our mouths hanging open. I can’t tell you what everybody else was thinking at that moment. All I knew is that every scenario we practiced for in the FBI terrorist scenarios:

Didn’t include this!

Jen wrote in her diary:

I felt this was the end

Had not spoken to my mother in years.

At this very moment, all I really wanted to tell her was:

I’m sorry.

I love you.

A split second later, two torpedoes hit the Iranian sub in a tremendous explosion that shakes their ship.

Stone, “What the hell was that?”

TK-20

Captain Vasili’s Diary

Christmas Day

I’m on the surface looking through an infrared monocular from my conn.

I shout:

“DIE, IRANIAN BASTARDS, DIE!”

Next to me is a kid who I really liked but can never remember his name. He can’t be over twenty years old.

I say to him,

“Fools! First rule of naval warfare: Never enter any waters with no escape possible.”

“Yes, sir,” says the blond haired, green-eyed kid.”

“However, now, there’s nowhere for us to run either. Better bring up my flashlight.”

“Your flashlight?” the kid asks in a questioning tone.

I simply just stare at him.

“Your flashlight! Yes, sir,” says the kid enthusiastically as he disappears from my conn.

I think I just found my way to warn the Americans.

Just hope we all don’t get killed first.

Fishing Trawler

General “Bad Odor” cannot believe what he’s witnessing: The sinking of his beloved boat. Stone looks on with casual confidence.

“You got some splainin’ to do now, son.”

I look at Jennifer dripping wet,

My first thought is: She looks pretty hot!

Thank God I didn’t say that out loud. What I ask is:

“I’m totally confused, so, who just sank that sub?”

“Oh I called in SERT,” says Stone confidently.

“Who?” I ask.

Jennifer, “SERT. They’re kinda like Alaska’s SWAT team.”

“Well,” I ask, “Does SERT carry torpedoes?”

“What?” Stone looks surprised.

“It’s a simple question,” I say.

“He’s right. Those were torpedoes,” says Jennifer.

“What?” Stone looks out the window in a panic.

Meanwhile, I’m looking through some old binoculars and see a pattern of flashing light at the mouth of Kendrick Bay saying,

“It’s Morris Code: Russian sub T-K-2-Zero. They’re saying, you’re B.E.L.C.O.M.E., belcome?”

Jennifer acts disgusted as she grabs the binoculars.

“Welcome. You are welcome! If that’s TK-20 that’s a Russian typhoon class boomer with enough firepower to take out North America.”

“Shit, I almost forgot!” says Stone.

Stone takes out his phone and calls Yura.

“Hi Yura, tell NORAD that we got TK two zero a Russian sub sitting at the mouth of Kendrick Bay. Make sure… Hang on.”

Stone sees General “Bad Odor” trying to crawl away so he puts his phone down and simply kicks his Alaskan cowboy boot into the Iranian’s forehead.