Tidal Rip

“Sir, we’re ordered to two-way floating-wire-antenna depth.”

“Two-way?”

“Affirmative, sir. Message includes code block for radiate on voice, imperative, no recourse.”

“From who?”

“Atlantic Fleet again.”

“Very well. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Will this be valuable info, or more bad news, or useless meddling?

Jeffrey thought it over very carefully. To listen to a radio message on his floating wire antenna was one thing. The wire was trailed underwater, and Challenger didn’t transmit, so the whole process was pretty stealthy. But to radiate, to transmit, would give his position away to any halfway decent eavesdropper on the sea or up in the air or out in space. The risk involved was severe.

And what else is new? Last I heard the whole world was coming apart at the seams.

Jeffrey studied the tactical plot.

Most merchant shipping had headed closer toward the Brazilian coast to gain protection inside the newly announced military exclusion zone. But some ships continued on course.

Their masters may think this exclusion zone could backfire. They might feel safer far out at sea.

Which suits my purposes nicely.

Jeffrey picked the closest big merchant ship outside the zone. It was designated Master 153 on his plot. Master 153 was over thirty miles away to the south, but heading northward.

“Navigator.”

“Captain?” Lieutenant Sessions sounded tired, but eager for something nonroutine to do.

“Give me an intercept course on Master one five three.”

“Own ship’s speed, sir?”

“Use our present speed, twenty-six knots.”

“Aye aye.”

And now, just in case…

“Chief of the watch.”

“Sir?” a senior chief answered. He sounded as if, at this point, nothing Jeffrey said would surprise him.

“Sound silent battle-stations torpedo.”

People in the control room played musical chairs, while others rushed smoothly hither and yon throughout the ship. The quiet of it all was the eeriest part.

Jeffrey listened on the sonar speakers as Master 153 churned steadily northward overhead. Challenger had met her and then changed course to keep station underneath. The cargo vessel, identified by Kathy Milgrom’s people as an Iranian-owned container ship of Panamanian registry, might intend to put in farther up the Brazilian coast — at Salvador, for example — until the Atlantic Narrows were safer for a neutral flag to cross.

The vessel’s diesel-electric engines growled and whined, and her screw props churned and burbled with a syncopated beat. There were also thrums and whirrs from auxiliary machinery, and a rhythmic hissing as her hull cut through the gentle swells.

Now and then Jeffrey could also hear a different, intermittent whine and sigh. He knew this was the ship’s hydraulic steering gear, shifting the rudder slightly as her helmsman made small course corrections.

“Considering how mild the sea state is topside, Captain,” Bell said, “this helmsman seems rather ham- fisted.”

“He’ll do,” Jeffrey said dryly.

“My depth is one hundred twenty feet, sir,” Meltzer called from the ship-control station. “My course and speed match Master one five three’s. We are directly under Master one five three, sir.”

“Very well, Helm… Chief of the watch.”

“Sir?” COB responded.

“Trail the two-way floating wire antenna.”

“Trail the two-way wire, aye.”

COB flipped switches on his panel next to Meltzer’s. The antenna began to reel out.

“The noise should be well masked by that container ship,” Jeffrey said.

“Concur, Skipper,” Bell said.

“My intention, as if you haven’t guessed, is to make our transmissions appear to come from the merchant ship.”

Bell nodded. “Understood. But I feel compelled to point out, sir, that a hostile signals intercept would recognize our broadcast as some sort of Allied military code.”

Jeffrey shrugged. “Precisely. And they’ll mark the merchie down as a spy trawler.”

“What if the Axis take a shot at her later?”

“I hate to sound callous, XO, but would you rather the enemy drew a bead and took a shot at us?”

Bell kept his thoughts to himself.

“Antenna deployed,” COB announced. The two-way floating wire antenna was equipped with distinct transmitter segments. Special software cut through signal distortion as the antenna whipped around and bobbed beneath the waves — or twisted under a surface ship’s wake.

“I’ll be in the radio room,” Jeffrey said. “XO, take the conn. Nav, you take fire control.”

Jeffrey donned a headphone set and moved the lip mike in place. He stayed standing.

The first thing Admiral Hodgkiss did when he came on the line was tell him that the conversation was totally private. Jeffrey ordered everyone else in the radio room to leave. The second thing Hodgkiss did was yell at him for waiting so long to answer the ELF message.

“Sorry, sir. The tactical situation demanded I take precautions first.”

Hodgkiss hesitated, just long enough to make Jeffrey sweat. “Explanation accepted.” Then Hodgkiss hit him hard. “So where is the Admiral von Scheer?”

That made Jeffrey angry. For Jeffrey anger overrode self-doubt. “Sir, I do not know, and we need to keep this short.” Challenger had slowed to the surface ship’s speed — which was only twelve knots — and was steaming in the wrong direction, north.

“I have more news for you, and new orders.”

“Admiral?”

“Some of this comes from the top. The very top.”

“The Joint Chiefs?”

“Higher… The White House.”

“I’m prepared to receive news and orders, sir. I still don’t see why you need me to transmit.”

“You will…. There’ve been bombings and attacks in Brazil.”

“Sir?”

“The American ambassador to Brazil and many of his staff are dead or badly wounded. At the same time, our military attaches have been kidnapped or assassinated.”

“By whom? Didn’t we have security?”

“We suspect by Axis operatives. We suspect our security measures were penetrated in advance, or overwhelmed by sheer force.”

“What does Brazil have to say?”

“That’s just it. We, the American government, were trying to offer advice and aid to Brasilia. President da Gama kept refusing outside help. In a nutshell, he was suspicious of our motives. Said we just wanted free real estate to base troops and planes and ships on sovereign Brazilian soil. Said we’d do nothing good for Brazil except bring in social diseases and useless invasion scrip instead of hard dollars. Not to mention drag his peace-loving country into the war… Face it, Captain, our record of winning neutrals over to our side has not been good.”