R. A. Heinlein

by totallynotabrony

Chapter 7

One of the soldiers handcuffed me behind my back. They took my camera and everything attached to my belt.

I ran through a quick mental inventory and decided that nothing on my person could positively identify where I was from. The camera was German. Nika had gotten me to try a Russian-made dive knife. The dive computer had been made in China.

One of them asked me who I was in English. I responded in Russian. That seemed to confuse him. After a short debate amongst themselves, the soldiers brought me up to the deck.

They took me towards the gangway. It angled down to the wharf, bridging a gap that was a couple of feet wide. As we got near the railing, I twisted hard in the grip of the men who held me, managing to get free enough to bend myself over the railing.

The gap between the ship and the shore looked very narrow and far away. As I went over the side, the hands holding me were pulled loose. I tumbled a couple of dozen feet and smacked the water.

I kicked to the surface and grabbed a breath before ducking under again to avoid the automatic weapons firing at me. I took a moment to bring my cuffed hands under my feet to get them ahead of me and then took off swimming. Between the darkness and the dirty salt water I couldn’t really see, but I had the curve of the hull to guide by.

Jeff had evidently heard the shooting and actually swam towards it. He flashed his dive light so I could find him. There wasn’t time to get my gear properly functioning again, so he shoved an emergency breather at me and helped me use my scooter with cuffs on. I was still basically blind, and had to be led.

I heard a splash behind us and a hand grabbed my ankle. Without a fin on my foot, there wasn’t much water resistance to keep me from kicking violently. My heel collided with something hard and flat about where I thought my attacker’s head would be. I figured I had kicked a diving facemask. That was important to know, because if it was just one of the soldiers who had jumped in after us, he would have limited breath. I was going to have to fight this guy, rather than just hold him until he passed out.

I grabbed for my dive knife before remembering that it had been taken when I was caught. I grabbed at my attacker’s throat and tried to wrap the handcuff chain around it. He could see and I couldn’t, and was able to deflect the attack. He knocked the emergency air mouthpiece out of my lips.

I kicked hard towards the surface, both trying to get a breath and also trying to get loose. I managed to haul the man up with me, and we broke the surface nearly together. The soldiers above didn’t fire, afraid of hitting one of their comrades.

I saw Jeff surface behind the man and use his own knife to cut his air lines. He pulled him off and grabbed my arm, yanking me down. He’d held on to his scooter, and we kicked along behind it, trying to go as fast as possible. We swapped the mouthpiece of his air supply back and forth.

We didn’t see or hear anything else on the way back. I counted the minutes, hoping we would get there before the authorities did. I figured we had two options. We could either leave the port as fast as possible and look suspicious, or we could stay and try to bluff. If we stayed and managed to look suspicious anyway, we would probably not be able to shoot our way out of the crowded port.

We made it back and rode the winch up. “How did it go?” asked Jones, who was standing there.

“It was a trap,” I said curtly. “We were probably lucky to only loose half our gear.”

Before I even took a shower, I called a meeting and explained the situation. We’d been spotted infiltrating Chinese property. We could legitimately be charged as spies if they realized who we were. They couldn’t definitively prove that the two of us that they had encountered at the site of the ambush were from the United States, but they did probably know that the CIA was interested in their biological weapons, and they might come looking for U.S. flagged ships that were in the area.

The CIA might come to the rescue of Jones, but probably not the rest of us because we were private contractors. It was the old, “Spy who? Uh, no, we’ve never heard of them.”

“So what do we want to do?” I asked.

We had a discussion, and decided to stay until the morning, when we could get a quantity of consumer goods bound for South Korea. That would probably take the suspicion off when we left, and maybe they would never notice us at all.

Somehow, that plan seemed to work out pretty well, and soon we were back on the open sea. I was getting the feeling that we were pressing our luck every time we returned to China.

While we were on our way to Korea, I tried once again to get the Navy to take some missiles off my hands. The problem was, the orders to give them to me were classified under the highest levels of secrecy, and getting orders to give them back would have to be filed similarly. I couldn’t talk to just anyone about it, and didn’t know who to call to make things happen. The Chief of Naval Operations, one of the Joint Chiefs, seemed like a good candidate, but I certainly didn’t have his number. The Joint Chiefs had only called me, it didn’t work the other way around.

I did consider jettisoning the nukes. As much as I would have liked to, they were no third-world crap, and I would feel a little bad if the paperwork eventually went through and the Navy asked for them.

We docked in South Korea and began waiting again. USS Pueblo went by under tow. It had been detained in North Korea since 1968. Some of the first U.S. troops to set foot in Pyongyang had gone to the Pueblo, where it was currently being used as a North Korean museum, and raised the stars and stripes. In the following weeks, it had been made seaworthy and was now being taken back to the states.

It was a couple of days before the CIA picked up any more leads. There was a small Chinese scientific station set up in the south Atlantic where some unusual things had recently been observed. There had been extra people aboard the station, and more supply ships than usual had been visiting it.

The southern part of the Atlantic Ocean was a long way from where we were, but it was all we had to go on. We had to be careful picking out way down through the heavy shipping traffic of Asia and Oceana, but once we had sailed into the Indian Ocean, we were able to open the throttles and make some speed.

I talked to Nevis on the way. He said that some reporter, by which I assumed he meant Sally Townsend, had been sniffing around for any secret Navy projects. She’d managed to come up with a few things Nevis had been doing that I actually hadn’t been involved in. Evidentially, he didn’t cover his tracks as well as I did.

Nevis had called me from his personal phone. I guessed that was an indication that he was either a civilian now, or close to being turned into one. At least he didn’t call me to complain.

“So do you need any crew?” he asked. I couldn’t tell if he was serious. “Sail, I could really use whatever help you can give me.”

I was a little taken aback by his straightforwardness. I doubted Nevis was hurting for money, but he might be facing criminal action. If he was headed to jail, there was no point in even making an effort to assist him.

“Let me get back to you on that,” I said. I wanted to do some checking first. I hadn’t been keeping up with the news well enough to know exactly what kind of trouble he was in.

Sensing my unwillingness, he said, “I hope you’ll take into account the long years we’ve had together and the pile of paperwork I’ve accumulated about you.”

It was a rather thinly veiled threat, and also a rather desperate one. I suspected that if such documents actually existed, he would have mentioned them before now. Also, if the Navy ever got a hold of them, I would be screwed whether I helped him or not.

“I’ll get back to you.”

After rocketing across the Indian Ocean, we had to stop for fuel in South Africa. Since the tank capacity of a ship is much larger than that of a car, it generally takes hours to fill up. That was why we were still sitting at the dock when Sally Townsend and Todd showed up.

I was up in the bridge and saw them approaching along the pier. “Prepare to repel boarders,” I muttered. I flew down to the CIC to have Andy alert everyone that we had visitors. Then I sent him down to deal with them.

He carried a portable radio that had the transmit button stuck on so we could hear the conversation. To my amusement, he channeled a little bit of my smartassness. “To what do we owe this visit?”

“I’ve come to see if you’re ready to talk,” Sally said. “There’s something very fishy about this ship, and I intend to get to the bottom of it. Is Sail Canvas around? I understand that he owns this ship.”

Andy turned to look at the rest of the ship in mock surprise. “Fishy? No ma’am, we only carry bulk material goods.”

A trace of annoyance showed on her face. “It’s all going to come out eventually. You might as well make it easier on yourself.”

“We’ve never been ones to take the easy way. Now let’s see…” He held up his hands and ticked fingers off. “It’s obviously no coincidence that you’re here at the same time we are, so you have a source that informed you.”

Most likely Nevis, I thought. He might have told her about me in an attempt to get her to off his back. Andy went on. “You don’t have the full story, or you wouldn’t be here talking to us.” That appeared to annoy Sally even more. “Lastly, how do you know we’re even up to something worth reporting about? We could be secret government mailmen.”

“Talking with my sources, I’ve discovered a lot of inconsistencies surrounding Mr. Canvas, this ship, and your business in general.”

Andy said, “I’ve heard that ‘black’ operations often involve deception and unexplained money transfers. Not that we’re masterminds of such ventures. Honestly, I bet if you ever do discover anything interesting, the government would probably block publication on the grounds of national security.” That last sentence came out sounding a little cockier than he probably intended.

“The CIA isn’t as daring and invincible as it once was. I’ll take that bet,” Sally retorted. I had a small moment of panic hearing that she knew who we worked for. She still hadn’t shown that she actually knew anything, though.

Andy shrugged and turned to go.

“What are you doing in South Africa?” Sally called.

“Just hunting for some Chinese biological weapons of mass destruction that mysteriously disappeared after that conflict with North Korea.”

She snorted, sounding unladylike. “If you’re going to lie, at least make it convincing.”

---

The south Atlantic Ocean is not heavily traveled. Most of the traffic is either going to or coming from the Antarctic. Speaking of the Antarctic, the weather was turning cold. Not only because we were sailing so close to the South Pole, but because we were simply in the Southern Hemisphere, and the climate was flipped from what all of us were used to.

There was some cold weather gear aboard, but not the specialized things we’d need for sustained operations outdoors. I hoped that wouldn’t become necessary. In that part of the world, temperatures usually hovered right around freezing, not to mention the ocean wind.

I’d rarely traveled south of the equator, and never this far south. There wasn’t a whole lot of land, especially inhabited land, down there. The scientific platform that we suspected of being a launch site was west of Bouvet Island, which itself was known as the most remote place on earth. It was a thousand miles of cold ocean to reach Antarctica, and fifteen hundred or so to South Africa. For some reason, Bouvet Island was owned by Norway.

Not only was it a forbidding place to sail into, but the navigation was all wrong. We had to use the southern point on the compass. The stars at the bottom of the world were different than at the top. There was no North Star, but there was a Southern Cross, which was about as useful.

We had no satellite coverage, which made sense. The United States cared little for this section of ocean. Hanley said that he would see what could be done about getting us some support. I appreciated it. Such a remote area of the world was not a good place to be alone.

Because of its remoteness, some strange things had happened in this part of the ocean and gone uninvestigated. Things like the South Atlantic Anomaly and the Vela Incident. Most had names that sounded very science fiction-y like that. Robert Heinlein would be interested.

There was an accurate GPS fix at least, so we weren’t exactly lost. There wasn’t a whole lot out there to hit, so we were able to comfortably run without radar. The seas were calm, which was great, because waves coming over the bow could have frozen down as ice, potentially making it difficult or impossible to get the hold covers open if we needed to.

Near dusk, we began picking up signals from a ship radar somewhere to our west. It appeared to be heading northeast. We ducked to the south to avoid being detected.

“Sail,” called Andy from the CIC, “there’s a high likelihood that they’re departing from the platform.”

I had had that thought, too. “Keep them under surveillance as long as possible.”

When we came to one hundred miles from the platform, I got Shep to fire up the helicopter. We were going to take an initial look and see what was going on. Depending on what we found, then a decision would be made to proceed from there.

I decided that it was best to be prepared. Nika wanted to go. She grabbed one of the machine guns and put it in the back of the helo. We all grabbed night vision headsets.

We didn’t mount the machine gun on the pintle near the side door, because it was too cold to open the door. The outside temperature was about thirty degrees, and the wind chill and rotor wash made it worse.

I leaned in to the cockpit to look out the windsheild as we approached the platform. All the instruments on the dashboard were turned down to low illumination to compensate for the night vision equipment Shep was wearing.

The scientific platform was anchored by long cables to the seafloor. It floated on large pontoons. Overall, it was about the size and shape of an oil rig. There was a tall central tower that reminded me of the derrick on a drilling platform. Around the base were enclosed spaces that were probably living and working areas. On the entire platform, there was not a single light turned on.

There was a convenient helicopter pad on one side, but I told Shep to stand off and let me fly in. I slid the door open jumped out. Nika braved the cold and covered me with the gun.

I swept the perimeter of the platform. Other than the helicopter pad, a couple of fuel tanks, and miscellaneous deck equipment, there was nothing of interest. My wings felt cold and cloud of my breath kept obstructing the night vision.

I opened the door to the rest of the platform. Everything inside was clean, because it looked like most of the things that had been there were gone. At least it was warm. The platform hadn’t been abandoned very long ago, probably only a few hours at most. The indication that the ship we’d encountered was fleeing the place now seemed stronger.

In the living quarters, I found four bodies. They were Asian, and they had been shot. None of them looked like solider types. Scientists, if anything. It looked like an execution to me. Maybe they knew too much.

Stepping around them, I continued searching. I came to a room that contained some high-tech-looking equipment. Despite all the labels being in Chinese, it didn’t look like science stuff. This was also the only place on the entire platform where I found some activity. A few lights glowed softly.

Stepping back into the passageway, I headed towards two very heavy doors that were built into the bulkhead. I figured that I was near the center tower of the platform, and the doors probably led inside.

Since I hadn’t seen any sign of life on the platform, I figured it was okay to have a go at the doors. They both had a central locking wheel and appeared to weigh much more than me. I yanked on the wheel of one and got it to turn. When the bolts were pulled out, I swung the door open.

I was looking at a weapon. I took a step forward and looked up at the towering intercontinental ballistic missile, probably one of those that had been hurriedly moved from China. Even with the night vision I couldn’t see the warhead very well, but it was probably shrouded inside the missile’s nosecone anyway. Regardless, even if it wasn’t a bio weapon, it was a little frightening to have the Chinese covertly deploying missiles.

I stepped back out the door and tried the other one. It was an identical missile. I checked around and didn’t see anything else that might indicate the presence of more. If these were the DF-4 missiles that we had been told about, they had a range of perhaps 4500 miles. The good news was that it wasn’t enough to reach the United States.

I went back out into the cold and checked the fuel tanks. By the smell, I could tell that one held diesel. It was nearly full. The other was empty, and smelled like rotten ammonia. I had no idea what it was, but I knew that the DF-4 used liquid fuel. If the rocket fuel tank was empty, that must mean that the missiles were filled up and ready to go.

I dashed back outside and made for the helo. Climbing in, I grabbed a headset. “Back to the ship as fast as you can.”

I got the radio set up and called Andy. “There are two ballistic missiles aboard that platform. There’s no one there, and the missiles are ready to fire. They might be on a timer.”

“What should we do?”

“There’s no way to know when those things could be set to launch. We have to take out the platform. Patch me through to Hanley.” The helicopter’s radio couldn’t reach Washington, but it could be linked to the ship to achieve the same effect.

Hanley was not pleased to hear what I had to say. “You’ve got to disarm them.”

“Who do you think I am, James Bond? We have no way of knowing when they’re going to fire, and trying to disable one is probably more likely to be fatal than a bullet to the head.”

“You’ve got to do something. People are going to die if you don’t.”

“I know, I know.” I thought for a moment. While the helicopter had visited the platform, Heinlein had closed to within seventy miles of it. It would take probably another two hours to get within gun range, and the only other surface to surface weapon we had aboard were the Tomahawks…

“We’ve got the cruise missiles,” I said to Hanley.

“Which ones?”

“A pair of nuclear tipped Tomahawks the Navy gave us ‘just in case’ for Korea, but we never used.”

“You still have those?” shouted Hanley. “No. I forbid you—”

“Sorry,” I said. “You said we had to do something.” I ended the conversation.

“Did you get that?” I asked Andy.

“Yeah.” He was quiet. “Are you sure we can do this?”

“That Chinese ship left the platform a couple of hours ago. If the ballistic missiles are set to go off on a timer, every second brings us closer to launch. This also will ensure that any weapons that they’re carrying are destroyed.”

“Right,” said Andy reluctantly. “I have the coordinates of the platform. Uploading them now.”

Shep dipped the nose of the helo even further to increase the speed forward. “I’d really like to get tied down to the deck before we do anything crazy,” he explained.

It was not to be, however, and I was glad Andy hadn’t waited. There was a streak of fire on the horizon. That would be the booster for a Tomahawk launch from the ship. I nervously checked behind us, making sure neither of the missiles on the platform had fired yet.

The nuclear Tomahawk passed invisibly beneath us in the darkness. Shep flared the helicopter to bleed off speed and put us down on the pad located in the fake number two hold. Nika and I helped Jeff quickly tie the helicopter to the deck while Shep got everything shut down. The hold cover was already sliding closed.

I went to the bridge. Penny was there, looking anxious. The radar display showed the platform as the lone surface contact, while our missile tracked towards it. It was amazing how a cruise missile traveling 550 miles per hour could seem so slow when you were in a hurry.

The missile hadn’t reached the target yet when the platform’s radar return appeared to flare and a new contact appeared, leaving the platform.

I immediately launched an ESSM. We were at the bare edge of the range for the anti-air missile, but I had to try. I watched the radar in desperation, knowing it would likely fall short.

The Tomahawk continued to creep closer to the target. The display flared again as the second missile was launched—

—and disappeared in a nuclear flash. I glanced up, out through the bridge windows and immediately regretted it. Even at seventy miles away, it was the brightest thing I had ever seen. The light faded away, leaving me night-blind. Unable to see anything outside, I turned back to the radar.

The second missile had been destroyed, but the first was already accelerating past Mach 5 and still climbing. The ESSM fell far behind and ran out of fuel.

I ran down to the CIC. “Where’s it headed?” I asked.

“Looks like north or northeast,” said Andy.

“Where would you say it’s going to land?”

“If it goes to its maximum range, central Africa, maybe.”

I tried to figure out why the Chinese wanted to do that. If we were still assuming a biological weapon, it could kill a lot of people there before the rest of the world could get in to help. That is, if the rest of the world cared about central Africa.

Something happened to the radar just then. “Looks like interference,” Andy muttered, as he set about trying to fix it. He dialed some controls and appeared to reach a sort of balance. He looked at it and appeared to recognize something.

“What is it?” I asked.

He broke into a grin. “Cobra Judy’s out there.”

Comments

[Riverwing]

Cobra Judy to the rescue!
Damn that's such a great name.