John O'Brien - Takedown

His plan is to journey down the Western Seaboard to San Diego, checking out the communities and harbors along the way. After that, he’ll make a decision about whether to travel to Hawaii or return to Walker’s group. The boat is well stocked with supplies, and, thanks to Walker, weapons and ammo. He may have to make some forays into towns along the way to restock on perishables but he’ll limit those to daylight. They’ll more than likely have to go into buildings for those — darkened buildings — so he’ll limit those excursions to only essential ones. He’s learned his lesson. He doesn’t see how he can avoid it altogether but he’s at least aware of what perils await those who venture inside.

The other worry he has is the crew itself. There is the very real prospect of deserters. He’ll run submerged for the most part although this will take more time — years of playing hide-and-seek has ingrained that into his core. At times, he’ll surface and give the crew a chance to get outside. The pressure of being cooped up for long periods at a time, along with the added stress of the situation, will make this a necessity. They’ve already been on patrol and under the waves for a while. Having time ashore is a luxury that isn’t in the cards this time around. He’ll keep a watch topside whenever they are surfaced to guard against anyone trying to jump. This is especially true when they draw close to shore. At those times, he’ll stay submerged to the greatest extent possible. The sub runs with a limited crew as it is and anyone lost will affect operations. For now, however, he’ll run on the surface and enjoy the breeze against his cheeks.

The run through the channels and straits takes most of the day. He’s seen all that he wants of the surrounding area on their passage down so Leonard keeps his boat directed to the open waters of the Pacific. The waves glitter under the sun settling, throwing off a myriad of prisms, as the USS Santa Fe passes Neah Bay on the left and enters the ocean proper. Dropping down the narrow hatchway, Leonard issues the order to submerge.

“What course, sir?” his XO asks.

“Set a course to the mouth of the Columbia River,” he answers.

“How far off shore?”

“Keep us close in.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

The roll of the ocean swells cease as they submerge beneath the waves, becoming a creature of the depths once again. The XO has the sub turned to the south once they reach a depth where it’s hard to be detected using MAD (Magnetic Anomaly Detection) systems. Leonard sits in his chair with a thousand thoughts careening through his mind — none staying too long. At times, he has the sub brought to periscope depth and watches the shore of the Washington coastline pass by. The moon’s rays reflect off of the waves crashing on shore.

After time, he rises. “I’ll be in my cabin. Bring us up to periscope depth where towns are marked and have the night watch look for lights. Wake me if you find anything.”

Mechanically ducking through hatches, he makes his way to his room. He kicks off his shoes and settles onto his bunk. Thoughts continue to race through his mind as he settles into a restless sleep.

Morning finds the Santa Fe sitting off the headlands protecting the Columbia River entrance. Leonard rises and splashes water on his face. Attempting to wipe the sleep away, he dons his shoes and heads to the control room.

“Anything?” he asks, standing near the periscope.

“There are a few ships sitting off the channel but no engine noises. It’s been quiet, sir.”

Leonard raises the periscope and looks over the world above their heads. Indeed, several ships tug on the end of their anchor chains against the incoming tide. They sit waiting for pilot vessels that will never arrive. The crew that once manned the rusting vessels has left in one fashion or another. The ships will now sit until their chains break and they are cast free, either to run ashore or be swept out to sea with the tide. Those that don’t run aground will eventually rust through and sink to the depths.

He briefly thinks of searching the ships for supplies — medical and edible — but pushes that thought away. There is little chance that any night runners could still be alive aboard the vessels. Any food and water they might have had would be long gone but the thought of a single SEAL Team searching the darkened corridors of an unknown ship, with even the possibility that there might be night runners onboard, sends shivers down his spine. They could stay and watch the decks for any emergence of night runners but he decides against it. Anything they might find would be unsubstantial compared to the risks.

The periscope slides down. “Prepare to surface,” Leonard orders.

The Santa Fe slides upward, breaching the surface. Water hisses down the black anechoic covered decks. The top watch scrambles up the ladder as soon as the conning tower clears the surface. Leonard and his XO join them shortly after the sub becomes stabilized. The sun has crested the far mountains, climbing into a blue sky. A coastal breeze brings a chill and a tangy odor from the cities lying just inside the channel.

“Bring us just inside the strait. Just far enough so we can get a look at Astoria. Slow and steady,” Leonard says.

He knows these waters are tricky. Not only are the currents difficult but the sands shift within the waterway and have to be continually dredged. No captain would bring his vessel into these waters without the skillful guidance of the river pilots. The engine kicks in and the sub slowly advances on the twin headlands. Riding the ocean swells, they pass the eerie, silent ships moored at the entrance. Entering the channel, they sweep by sandy beaches to either side.

The long motorway across the river, connecting Washington and Oregon, comes into view little by little until it begins its arch up to the tall bridge leading into the heart of Astoria. Leonard brings his binoculars up. The center span is missing. Looking at the channel beneath the bridge, he makes out parts of the superstructure poking above the water in places. The dropped bridge will make any further progress up the river impossible.

The docks and buildings of the small port come into view. Glassing the area, he sees nothing that looks amiss with the exception that another span of a bridge to the west has also been dropped into the chill waters below.

“Park us here in the channel and blow the foghorn.”

The loud, low-pitched sound of the foghorn resonates from the hills and sweeps across a town mostly hidden by trees and rising terrain. Leonard keeps his eye on the docks and streets for any movement. There is no doubt that anyone here would hear the low, mournful cry of the signal. Like the towns he saw lining the shores of Puget Sound, the streets remain empty. He has the horn blown again and they wait for an hour. Nothing.

“Turn us around and take us out of here. Set a course for Seaside,” Leonard says and climbs down the long ladder leading into the control room.

Sitting in his chair, he feels the heel of his boat turning. Looking at a chart of the seaboard, he notices that there are few towns they will actually be able to see. Most reside in ports and bays which aren’t visible from the sea. The ports themselves are mostly fishing ports with entrances between rocky breakwater jetties. There is no way he’s bringing his boat into those. They just won’t fit, and the currents there are even trickier than the Columbia River entrance. Seaside, as its name implies, is one of the few towns residing right on the shore.

If things look okay when they arrive, he’ll send Chief Krandle in with his team to have a look around. His concern about his crew deserting extends to Krandle and his team as well. He’ll just have to take his chances with them though as he’ll need them to go ashore at times. He admits he had some reservations about Krandle upon his return from the mission in the Philippines. The story he told upon returning was a wild one and caused some disbelief because it was so far-fetched. However, events have since proved him right and he feels he can trust him. He’s glad the chief decided to stay with him instead of going with Walker. Leonard isn’t sure he could continue with his plans if the chief and his team weren’t aboard. He knows his regular crew isn’t prepared to handle themselves if they have to go ashore. They don’t have that kind of training.