Troublemaker

by totallynotabrony

3:2

I’ve been surprised before in my life, but honestly, the last person I thought would come to my rescue would be Nevis. Carl Hanley got out of the car with him. They walked up and spoke to Scorpion. He seemed a little surprised and unbelieving of what they had to say.

After a few minutes of what appeared to be arguing, Scorpion spoke to Gene, who came over and pulled me out of the car.

“What’s happening?” I asked him.

“You’ve got more powerful friends than we thought.” He unlocked the cuffs and walked me over to where Scorpion, Hanley and Nevis were standing. Nevis looked a little smug. Hanley appeared to be annoyed. Scorpion was livid.

Nevis was the first to speak. “I heard about this misunderstanding you had and thought I might help you clear it up. After all, you are my best defense contractor.” Nevis didn’t wink at me, but he might as well have. After that deal of fifteen percent off, he would bend over backwards to help me out of trouble and able to keep helping him. I didn’t know how he had heard what I’d done, but I was grateful. It was a useful system of quid pro quo we had set up.

“So I’m clear? I’m not going to be put away forever on the charge of treason?”

“That’s right.”

Something nagged at me. After doing business with the government for so long, I knew that nothing was ever that clean and clear.

“Is there a catch to all this?”

Hanley nodded. “For all intents and purposes, Mr. Canvas, the United States Central Intelligence Agency now owns your soul.”

“Does that mean I’m going to keep having going out to do the dirty work?”

“That’s exactly what it means.”

“I’m going to need a bigger boat, then”

Hanley chuckled, but stopped when he saw that I was serious. I turned to Scorpion. “Tell him. That yacht was not designed to do the things we did.”

Scorpion may have hated me at that moment, but he nodded his agreement.

I went on. “We need a new, purpose built vessel that has all the weapons systems integrated. It needs to have a twin engine setup for reliability and more power, stronger steel construction for better damage control, and an amphibious well deck couldn’t hurt. And while we’re at it—”

Hanley cut me off. “We’ll talk about it later. Right now, all of you—” he pointed to me, Scorpion, Gene and John, “—need to have a serious debriefing.”

Nevis left in his staff car. I would have to catch up to him later and discuss how we stood. While we had been talking, one of those ubiquitous black Chevrolet Suburbans that the government seems to have so many of had rolled up. Hanley and the boat crew, including myself, climbed in. I thought for a moment we might be going all the way out to Langley, but instead we wound up stopping at a safe house in Newport News.

The place didn’t look like too much on the outside, and that was the point. I thought that someone’s suspicions might be aroused by the black Suburban parked outside, but I had no sooner had the thought than the driver moved it to another location.

The inside of the safe house was government cheap, but fully functional. In other parts of the building, I assumed that there were probably the high tech communications and probably a gun locker with all the newest and best weapons. It was possible, though, that I was reading too much James Bond into it.

They took us to a conference room that reminded me of the Navy security interrogation room back at the Norfolk base. The chairs at the safe house were better, though.

The five of us sat down and Hanley pulled out a sheaf of notes and a tape recorder.

“Talk through it,” he said. “What did you do, what would you do differently if you had to do it again, what worked, what didn’t.”

Slowly, piece by piece, we recreated the entire scene from when we first set out across the Atlantic Ocean, to the time when we returned with me hog-tied on the galley table. Despite me being right there and their animosity for me, the crew liked how the boat had been outfitted, and other than going along with my suggestion for a better one, had been fairly happy.

The issued equipment had been slightly more of a problem. Everyone agreed that some anti ship missiles would have been nice. We hadn’t needed them, but if we had needed to take out that Libyan patrol boat, it sure would have been helpful to be able to do it right. Another thing discussed were the small arms we had taken aboard.

“The next time I go out to do something like this,” said Gene, “you will give me a rifle with an ACOG on it.” I seconded this. Nearly any optical sights would help.

We also discussed having proper diving gear. The arctic suits had worked, but something else would have been better. Having water scooters, motorized torpedoes you hung onto underwater, would have saved us a long swim.

The Russians found their way into the conversation. It was true that the more people knew about a secret operation, the less secret it was, but in this case having their cooperation had been very helpful. I knew that Gene, John, and Scorpion knew that I had developed a friendship with Agent Ivanova, but thankfully none of them mentioned it.

With the success of this operation, cooperation with the FSB in the future would be a likelihood. I wasn’t alive during the Cold War, but it seemed slightly amazing that things could turn around between two countries so quickly.

Unfortunately, the total success we had hoped for had not been achieved. Nikitin being killed had not been part of the plan. He probably could have told us more about what had been going on in the Russian black market, but his documents were chock full of other lovely people to go after. It would keep somebody busy for quite a while. Probably me, I realized unhappily.

Of course, the mission into Libya hadn’t been a complete success, either. The Marine Corps wasn’t happy about their lost helicopter, but all it would take to replace it was money. Mr. Triple A hadn’t been seen in a while, so we had probably got him. The Libyans raised some concerns with the international media about the United States bombing them. Most of the world believed them, but few cared because that was nothing new and it had happened several times before. The matter was quickly forgotten.

The debrief didn’t get over that day. We slept that night on the economy mattresses in the safe house. At least the showers worked well. Breakfast in the morning was decent, but not very inspiring. I preferred my eggs sunny side up, but all that they would make was scrambled.

We had been all debriefed out a couple of hours after breakfast. I didn’t want to hang around to see what they might try to feed me for lunch, so I left. Hanley must have been thinking the same thing, because he came with me.

We rode in the back of a black Suburban. I couldn’t tell if it was the same one, or another. I knew that I had gotten in the SUV to go somewhere, but I didn’t know where I wanted to go. The marina, I supposed. I hoped my car was still there.

I talked to Hanley as we drove. “I wanted to ask about my friend that I snuck aboard.”

“Andrew Newhart? We detained him.”

“For how long?”

“We had him for maybe a day when Admiral Nevis called up and said you were a true patriot and would never do anything to breach national security.”

“Just like that you let him go?”

“Pretty much. Why? Should we have kept him longer?”

“No, not really. So did you just tell him to behave and forget what he saw?”

“Something like that. I think you should talk to him and make sure he understands that this was an anomaly of the system. He fell through a crack, and he’s damn lucky he’s not still in custody. And Mr. Canvas, we’ve shown quite a bit of leniency to you on this, but this is something you aren’t going to do again, understand?”

I said that I did. The rest of the way back to the marina was spent in silence.

My car was not only still where I had left it, but appeared to be completely unmolested. I went to get my luggage from the boat and returned. I slid in and shut the door, just sitting for a moment.

Now that I was back in my own car and had my own steering wheel to touch, it really, truly felt like I was home again. It had been a long, strange trip.

I checked the glove box to see if my animal crackers were still there. They were. I found them to be a little stale, but I ate some anyway. It’s the little things you miss when you go away from home for a while.

The next few days were not great to me. I had to set things right that had happened while I was gone. The company itself seemed to be doing okay, but I had to speak to several potential investors that Canvas Shipbuilding was a capable company with many years of experience, despite the fact that the name had been registered just a few weeks before. It was a difficult process, but I could see stock prices start to turn around. Lucky for me, I had gotten myself majority shareholder status again though creative but, David told me, perfectly legal bookkeeping methods while the company was still reorganizing.

Matt Hawthorne appeared to be doing fairly well at running things day to day, although I made sure to stop by at least once a week even though I had rewritten company policies and wasn’t required to check in now.

We did land the contract to provide boats to Saint Petersburg harbor security. I figured I could use it as an excuse to spend some more time in Russia.

Andy seemed a little surprised to see me when I showed up at his place. “Sail, I thought they were going to put you away for good.” He let me in, and looked around before closing the door.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. With a little luck and creative bargaining, I managed to get us both out from under the axe.”

“Thanks a lot,” he said. “I suppose I should have refused to come. I knew something like this could happen.”

“Well, the good news is that neither of us is going to do hard time. The bad news is that both of us are probably going to be under surveillance for the rest of our lives.” I shrugged.

“I suppose I can live with that.”

“I wish that was all that was on me. From now on, I probably won’t be able to make any real money off Navy contracts and the CIA will be knocking on my door every other week to go do crazy things again.”

“So you’re kind of like a slave now?” Andy looked concerned. “I’m sorry, man. I would have tried to say it was my idea if I had known.”

“Don’t worry about. If I play my cards right, I can get them to pay for a new boat.” I said goodbye to him and left. Next on my list of places to go was Dr. Games’ office.

She asked me what I had been up to since we’d talked last. Once again, I got the urge to tell her everything, but I was in enough trouble as it was.

Instead, I said, “A lot of things went wrong, but a few things went right.”

“What sort of things?”

“Well, I’m in deeper than I was before. I did some things I shouldn’t have, and now I owe certain people even bigger than I did previously.”

“Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know. I suppose it started off as a kind of prank. It might have turned into a little contest with myself to see how much I could get away with.”

“You knew you were breaking the rules?”

“Right.”

“Did you learn your lesson?”

“I really, really hope so. I suppose until I get slapped down hard enough to make the idea stick, I’ll probably just keep doing it. As it is, I got stuck with a job I don’t want but I’m still living pretty well and things are never boring.”

The doctor folded her forelegs in front of her. “I think it’s interesting how you realize that you’re doing something you shouldn’t, but you go ahead with it anyway because you know you can survive the consequences.”

“Do you think it’s because I got bored with all this disposable income and started causing trouble for lack of anything better to do?”

“It’s possible. You can lose so much before you notice that anything is gone.”

“So should I start donating to charity or something?”

“That might be a good idea. You can also start your own.”

“I’ll have to give that some thought.”

Later, I wound up at Nevis’s office. Chief Stanton let me in without a fight. I had come to see if the Navy needed anything and also to see if he would let me have any nice toys to put on my new boat.

Nevis offered me coffee. He had never done that before. I had never wanted coffee in his office before. It was a warm summer day. But hey, free coffee.

“What can I do for you, Canvas?”

“Actually, I think the question should be what can I do for you? Canvas Shipbuilding is looking to pick up as much business as possible.”

“At reasonable prices, I assume.”

“Can’t make it on quality, make it on volume, I guess.”

“Fair enough. I’ll see what kind of odd jobs I can dig up.”

“Also, I think you heard I’m building a new boat. I’d like your help in getting these items,” I said, placing a page from my notebook on his desk. He read down the list I’d written out.

“I think this is pushing it a little far. What if someone found out?”

“I need you to bury the paperwork deep enough that they won’t.”

He stared at me for a few seconds and folded his hands. “Canvas, if I give you authorization to build this new armed yacht, it had better be the best damn Q-ship the world has ever seen.”

“I’ll do that, sir, believe me.”

I had begun drawing plans for the new boat almost as soon as Hanley had said it might be possible to get it built. Since I didn’t know how much money was going to be authorized for the project, I made sure to keep my options open.

Whatever happened, the boat had to have two engines. Troublemaker had been running at top speed and that hadn’t been fast enough. More protection would also be nice. That meant a thicker hull and superstructure made of steel. Aluminum isn’t a great ship choice because it’s brittle and won’t flex when the ship rolls in the waves. Fiberglass isn’t bulletproof.

Since we already had it, we might as well reuse the CIWS. It would be good to have a better way to hide it rather than a box on the deck. Maybe some kind of hydraulic lift to raise it up through a hole in the deck.

To avoid building a ship that required a deep draft to float, I knew that it would need to be longer. I did some figuring and decided that a nice 160 foot boat would provide enough flotation and more than enough room for all the gear.

I decided to move the helicopter deck to the bow. It would require flaring the deck above the waterline to make a reasonably square landing pad, but I was fine with that.

Putting the well deck in the stern created a few problems. I thought it should be big enough to accommodate at least a Zodiac-type boat. Room to store a jet ski or two wouldn’t hurt. Just in case, I also made sure it could also fit a SEAL Delivery Vehicle inside.

The well deck would require the engines to be moved forward and longer propeller shafts used. The forward mounted engines balanced out the weight for what else I had in mind for the stern.

The Navy vertical launch system installed on their ships was capable of supporting surface to air missiles, land attack missiles or rocket assisted torpedoes. It stored all of them pointing upward in tubes. Since each tube had to accommodate missiles that were more than twenty five feet long, the tubes were going to have to run from down near the keel and be concealed by the superstructure on the top.

With the helicopter pad forward, all the superstructure would cover the stern completely. Maybe put a catwalk around the back, but there wasn’t much room for anything else. Staterooms would occupy the very furthest aft space, I decided. Being simple compartments full of air, they wouldn’t weigh much and would serve to balance the ship a little better. It also provided the entire aft superstructure to install portholes in. I decided to place them as high as possible to make room for heavier things down below in order to keep the boat’s center of gravity low.

The missile tubes were a bit of a problem. I figured eight of them ought to do it. They could be tipped slightly, but too much and they would cease to be true vertical launch tubes. Coming up with clear space from top to bottom while avoiding the engines, passageways, compartments and other things was a little difficult, but I managed.

Mounting the CIWS forward was a little easier. I placed a large square elevator shaft that ran from the lowest deck to the helicopter deck. I designed a simple new mount for the CIWS that incorporated a platform above the radar dome. The platform would be the floor of the elevator and could be used to transport things from the helicopter deck down to the deck below. It looked harmless enough and a civilian probably wouldn’t question it. If the elevator was pushed upwards out of the shaft, the CIWS would emerge from the deck. It was spaced out a little from the superstructure, and still couldn’t make a full 360 degree sweep, but it was better than previously.

The stern was unprotected, but I made a note to include heavy duty handrails that could support hard points for mounting weapons. Plus, the missiles from the launch tubes could provide protection to the rear.

I put the bridge at the highest point, but added a CIC, combat information center, below decks to install all the weapons related hardware.

I’d been just a little vague with the design, so it could be changed if anyone objected to the cost. I hoped they wouldn’t. It would be like planning to get the most awesome Christmas toy you could ever get, and only receiving part of it.

I was prepared when Hanley called me in to review my suggested design. I was unfamiliar with all of the other five men who had come to the meeting. I thought I recognized the director of the CIA, but that was it. Hanley didn’t offer any explanation on who the rest were.

“Gentlemen,” I said, putting a PowerPoint slide up with an image of the old boat, “this is the yacht I inherited from my parents. My father named her Troublemaker. She was recently modified and used in a new kind of operation. From all aspects, she appears to be a normal pleasure craft.” I clicked through a few more pictures. “However, in reality she is an effective platform for launching special operations.”

“How was the boat modified?” one of the men asked.

“Mostly it was just basic things. A little bit of bullet resistant material, accommodations for the crew, a secure communications suite. The really big thing we were able to do, though, was the addition of a Phalanx Close In Weapon System. For those of you who don’t know, it’s a computer controlled 20 mm gatling gun.” I used a laser pointer to show the disguise box. “It’s hidden here.”

I continued. “The boat performed the job admirably, however it was in no way designed for the mission. A new vessel with all the weapons systems integrated would be preferable. Such a boat could also employ better armor, advanced weaponry and increased mission flexibility. I’ve drawn up a new design for your approval.”

I changed over to the new slides. I hadn’t put anything in the PowerPoint that might be incriminating if it got leaked. Since beginning servitude with the CIA, I had been a lot more careful in terms of what could be used against me. The slides only showed the exterior of the new boat.

I explained the basic design and layout. The helicopter pad was now large enough to land everything up to a Marine Corps MV-22 Osprey tilt rotor on it. I’d added another stateroom for a total of six. Troublemaker’s staterooms were very large, so I figured I could reduce their size a little bit to gain room to use elsewhere. I’d also added provisions for quickly converting to bunk beds in case an entire commando unit came on board. Hammocks could also be strung up in the galley.

“This is all well and good,” said one of the men, “but I thought you mentioned weapons.”

“That’s right.” I began talking about that. There were a few gasps of disbelief.

“You want to do what?” said one of them. “Missiles on a yacht?”

“Why not? I thought you wanted a boat that could do anything.”

That shut them up, and I kept talking. “The Navy routinely fires SM-2, SM-3, ASROC and Tomahawk missiles from these tubes. The SM-2 is a long range air to air missile. The -3 is a long range missile than can be used for shooting down ballistic missiles. Maybe you remember a few years back when they used one of those to kill that malfunctioning satellite? The ASROC is an antisubmarine torpedo that flies out to where the submarine is and drops into the water. The Tomahawk is a cruise missile for attacking land or sea targets and can have a range of up to 1,500 miles.”

I spoke for a few more minutes and brought the presentation to a close. Hanley walked me out as everyone else began speaking quietly amongst themselves.

“You think they’re going to go for it?” I asked.

“I guess we’ll find out. I don’t remember how much you said it was going to cost.”

“I didn’t say, but I figure a few hundred million ought to do nicely.”

“Jesus.”

“Hey, they were the ones who forgot to ask.”

Later in the day, I got a surprise call from Nika. She was coming to Washington, D.C. soon for a law enforcement conference. We made plans to meet. I told her just a little about the new yacht.

On the next Sunday, I went to the club. I hadn’t drank with David for quite a while. He had his tequila and I had my usual.

“What have you been up to?” he asked.

“Well, aside from working the company back up into top form, I’ve been busy doing other things. I got approval to start building a new yacht.”

“Who do you have to get approval from? Or do I need to know?”

“No, you don’t,” I told him.

“All right. Are you still under the government’s thumb?”

“Yes, for the foreseeable future, but I have a plan to get out of that.”

“Do I want to know?” he asked.

“Maybe, maybe not. Since you’ll probably be involved somehow, I might as well tell you. Once that boat is built, I’m going to steal it.”

“Don’t you already own it?”

“On paper, maybe. I’ll take it and leave everything else behind.”

“Won’t everybody be a little angry about that?”

“Probably, but what are they going to do? I’m the one with the armed yacht. In addition, I’ve also been working up a package of damaging information to release if they come after me. I’ll leave that with you.”

“Oh great. So if you’re running, who’s coming with you?”

“I’ve got a few people in mind.”

“Okay. What are you going to do for money? They’re bound to freeze your assets.”

“I’ll offer my services freelance to them. The amount of money they’ll probably seize from me will pay for a lot of work.”

“What if they won’t hire you?”

“I’ll work for the Russians.”

David sat back in his chair, out of questions for the moment. “Sounds like you have a plan. It’s going to be trouble, though.”

I thought about what Dr. Games had said about me surviving the consequences of my own actions. Why did I do it? Because I could.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Dad was right. I’m a natural-born troublemaker.”

The End

Comments

[totallynotabrony]

1332252
There will be two sequels, "Corsair," and "Traveler."

Maybe prequels, too, not sure yet.

[Gyvon]

There had better be more coming, buster!

[totallynotabrony]

1332648
I've got a blog coming tonight that talks a little about that.

[Enceledus]

i hope he gains a fleet of those yachts to help him, that would be cool as all fuck!

[Enceledus]

1334326 just read last chapter i changed my perview of the situation

[totallynotabrony]

1491914
I guess I never said anything, but in my headcanon, pegasi are natuarally resistant to cold.

[AppleTank]

Nice. The only thing I'm somewhat confused about is that Sail's status as a pony doesn't really seem to affect the story much. He really doesn't get to do anything special with being a pony besides being unable to use a gun and being a bit out of place.

[APS]

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Q-ship

[DF]

This story deserves to have more views.