Robert Doherty: The Citadel

Patterson nodded. He knew that the message he had just received from the Pentagon had quite a bit to do with that. Apparently the Confederation of Independent States had talked to their former friends in North Korea and informed them that it would not be in their best interest to conduct offensive operations against the South. There had also been a veiled reference from General Morris that the Kitty Hawk Battle Group had been involved in a joint U.S.-CIS operation that affected events here. Reading between the lines, the message between had been clear to Patterson: don't complain about the deployment of 7th Fleet elements anymore.

For the time being, things on the peninsula would stay the same-a wary watching across barbwire and antitank trenches. "Inform all units to reduce to a level four alert status."

South Pacific Sea

"You failed," Araki said.

The sun was shining, and Fatima stood on the wing of the bridge, feeling the rays warm her skin. It was the first nice day they'd had since leaving Antarctica. She looked forward to getting back to the Philippines.

"We did not fail."

"The Koreans-" Araki began.

"The Koreans failed," Fatima said, "which actually was what I was hoping would happen. Otherwise I would have had to use my men aboard this ship to kill them all."

Araki stared at her. "You never planned on letting the Koreans do whatever they planned with the bomb."

"That's right," Fatima said. "It would be the worst thing that could happen if a nuclear weapon went off, killing innocent people. In this my uncle was wrong: terrorism at a high level only succeeds in stiffening the resolve of those you fight against. The battle must be much more subtle and psychological."

"So what did you achieve?" Araki asked.

"I showed you something," Fatima said with a slight smile. "Things are not as clear as they were for you."

"You did not do this just to show me that there is some Organization out there pulling strings."

"No. I did this to hurt that Organization. The base is gone. With the Russian submarine here and the American forces, I think this spilled out of what is easily contained and compartmentalized by the Organization. We caused it problems. We won't really know the results of what we did for a while."

"And in the meanwhile?" Araki asked.

Fatima closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sunlight. "We continue the fight."

USSKitty Hawk, Off the Coast of Antarctica

"I told them about Logan, but they insisted they had to take us directly back here." Tai fumed. "They said they would send some planes out to recover his body."

Vaughn shrugged. He wasn't as worried about the dead as the living. He was propped up on the bed, his chest swathed in bandages and an IV hooked into each arm. He'd been unconscious ever since they'd brought him in from surgery, waking only minutes ago. The doctor had said his prognosis for recovery was good.

There was a Marine guard outside the wardroom door, and Tai had been pacing back and forth for the past fifteen minutes, ever since Vaughn had woken up. He was too weary to say anything right now. According to her, no one had said anything to them since they'd been picked up. Vaughn had a feeling they were waiting for someone to arrive who would have the "word," whatever it was.

"Burke?" he asked.

"He's sleeping in a room they assigned him," Tai said. "More like a prison. They have a Marine on his door just like they have one on yours."

"We'll find out-" Vaughn began, but stopped as the door opened. A man wearing a simple black suit and white shirt stepped in. He was nondescript: a bland face, thinning blond hair, pale blue eyes. He carried a metal briefcase, which he placed on the table on the opposite side of the bed from Tai.

"Good morning," he said. "Major Vaughn. Captain Tai." The man stood there looking at the two of them for a little while, then spoke again. "We've recovered Mr. Logan's body. Tentative cause of death is ruled as extreme hypothermia."

The man pulled one of the plastic chairs over to himself and sat down. "It is interesting to see both of you so healthy, or relatively healthy, considering you were both reported as killed in action."

"Royce-" Vaughn began, but the man interrupted.

"Royce apparently did what he needed to. There are other issues of more importance. We have a problem here that also happens to be your problem. To put it bluntly, the word 'Citadel' must never be mentioned publicly."

"Why not?" Vaughn asked.

The man didn't even blink. "Let me explain the facts to you. First, the Citadel doesn't exist any longer. We've landed men there to sterilize what little is left, to include the reactor.

"Second, you have no record of the base existing. The pictures from the Records Center have been taken care of. As a matter of fact, you might say the circumstances surrounding the deaths of your party are very unclear. We have only your word on that issue. There are some who might say the two of you had a hand in their deaths, especially Mr. Logan's. At the very least you might be found negligent in his death."

Vaughn just continued to stare. Now was not the time or place to fight. The fact that the man was laying this out meant they would be able to walk away from it. "What's the deal?"

The man seemed to relax for the first time. "As I said-no word of the Citadel." He opened the briefcase and removed a piece of paper. "A Xerox of tomorrow's headline in the Washington Post."

He handed it to Vaughn. Tai leaned over his shoulder to read: DIRECTOR CIA, SECDEF, 9 OTHERS KILLED IN PLANE CRASH

Vaughn looked at the man. "And?"

"Let's say you did a service to your country. Exposed something dangerous. And it was dealt with."

"A service to my country?" Vaughn repeated.

The man stood. "So to speak." He walked to the door and stopped. "I will assume I have your agreement." He stepped out.

Vaughn looked over at Tai, giving her a weak smile. "Are we having fun yet?"

Tai rubbed a hand through the tangle of her dark hair. "You think they'll just let us go?"

"Yes." Vaughn closed his eyes briefly. "Because they think we're working for Royce. And Royce is still working for them. In some form or another."

"So what exactly did we accomplish?" Tai asked.

Vaughn felt the pain in his chest. He was very tired. Exhausted down to his core "I don't know exactly. Remember on the ice? The cracks and then the killer whale coming through?"

"Yes."

"I think we've started some cracks in the ice that protects the Organization."

ROBERT DOHERTYis the covert name of the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than thirty books. He is a West Point graduate, commanded a Special Forces A-Team, and taught at the JFK Special Warfare Center & School at Fort Bragg. For more information, check www.bobmayer.org.