Tidal Rip

bomb…. Very well, I give you my permission.”

Jeffrey wondered how much da Gama knew about the Rocks.

“I’ll get on that for you, Captain,” Colonel Stewart said. “I’ll help get the commo links set up, here and in the States, and we’ll get your orders to Challenger by low-frequency radio.”

“And Mr. President?” Jeffrey said.

“Captain?”

“Can you have a long-range transport helicopter put on alert at Paranagua, please, for use by my SEALs? Their lieutenant’s name is Felix Estabo. He and his men are all Latino, fluent in Portuguese or Spanish or both. They won’t arouse suspicion. They’ll blend in.”

“And then what?”

“If nothing more happens, then nothing, and your country is blameless. Or at least subjected to no more possible blame beyond right now.”

“Yes.”

“If the American warhead does come ashore in Argentina, sir, we need to lock on by aerial recon and track it and the kampfschwimmer carefully. Send my SEALs in your helo on an interception course, on the Brazilian side of the frontier.”

“A race to meet, and fight at close quarters?… It doesn’t sound like very much to go on.”

“I know, Mr. President…. We need a way to harass and distract the bad guys. Something that intimidates, confuses, but nonlethal and without a premature border violation… If I understand the mind-set of the Argentine rebels, sir, their leaders are rash, incautious.”

Da Gama nodded.

“I want us to put more pressure on the Argentines and Germans. Breathe down their necks and let them know it, bad. If they start to worry that we’re catching on to them, it might force our opponents to rush and make hasty decisions, maybe even commit some revealing mistakes…. Less time to work with also heightens the dangers for our side. It’s a risk we’ll have to accept…. Mr. Jones, how far up the Riode la Plata estuary do international waters go?”

“The twelve-mile limit? Pretty far up. It’s a hundred miles wide at its mouth.”

“And what platforms monitor your gamma-ray detectors?”

“I’m guessing we have operatives in Argentina, or across the estuary in Uruguay, with proper equipment. Out on the water in boats, on top of mountains, I don’t know.”

“Okay… Colonel Stewart, invoke the code name Mercury, and use that to make some drones available, fast. Predators, Global Hawks, whatever. And a U.S. Air Force B-One-B bomber based from Venezuela, something really conspicuous but well able to defend itself. It can follow a dogleg course out over the ocean, we don’t need to think about overflight rights. It’s supersonic, it can be at the estuary very quick. Have it fitted with a recon sensor pod. Visual and infrared especially… And have the bomber loaded with active sonobuoys; don’t worry about the receivers, this part is just for effect, to slow von Scheer and her minisub.”

“I’ll make the request Flash Immediate, route it through Atlantic Fleet so Admiral Hodgkiss can press his support.”

Jeffrey nodded. “Can the B-One break the sound barrier at sea level?”

“I think it can manage a thousand knots or so.”

“Have it do that a few times in the estuary. Make big noises at Mar del Plata, rattle windows in Buenos Aires, get on the enemy’s nerves and keep them wondering why it’s there.”

Jeffrey turned to da Gama. “Is this acceptable to you, Mr. President?”

“Yes.”

“And Colonel Stewart, if you don’t mind acting as my executive assistant for the duration of this, add a summary of our intentions for Atlantic Fleet, with informational copies to whoever you think makes sense. Do it in my name, and say up front ‘Unless otherwise directed.’ Then we go into motion and hope nobody upstairs screams.”

Stewart nodded, his wounds forgotten now.

“And Mr. Jones. I don’t want to take any chances your local people might be compromised or neutralized. Call Langley now. Get technical specs to the air force, pronto. Make sure that B-One’s avionics include a black box that can listen for those bottle-cap things to go off. The magic word is Mercury.”

CHAPTER 31

Beck was startled out of his sleep when a messenger knocked on his cabin door. He pulled on a robe and answered.

“Sir, the communications officer sends his respects, and he has received this over our floating wire.” The messenger handed Beck a sealed envelope.

“Did the Einzvo see this?”

“Yes, sir. I gave him a copy at the conn. He awaits your further instructions.”

“Very well.”

Beck sat at his desk and read.

Berlin — with help from Moscow — was seeing a suspicious pattern to Allied radio communications and aircraft flights to and from Brazil and near Argentina. Axis High Command believed that the enemy might be aware of von Scheer’s plans. The timetable was therefore being moved up aggressively, with support by added information-warfare attacks and jamming.

That’s easy for them to say, but my ship even at flank speed can’t work miracles. We’ve a very long way to go to reach Mar del Plata.

Beck read on. The kampfschwimmer team and von Loringhoven were ordered to leave von Scheer immediately, using Beck’s minisub, along with the one working U.S. atom bomb. Once Beck and von Scheer proceeded farther south, the minisub was to ping on the frequency commonly used by Argentine diesel subs. Sonobuoys being dropped from an Argentine seaplane would thus locate the minisub by triangulation, a simple process. While a two-man crew stayed aboard the mini per standard procedures, everyone else would swim out and deploy a rubber raft to the surface. The seaplane would pick them up and return with them to Mar del Plata as if they were Argentine submariners or commandos on an exercise or an emergency personnel transfer. Then the mini would return to the von Scheer covertly, and Beck would wait beyond the continental shelf.

Beck grew concerned that the Allies might indeed be on to the plan. If so, with the enemy forewarned, able to take active countersteps or even just prepare a firm and persuasive-enough denial, the Axis scheme might begin to unravel. Beck appreciated now why Berlin saw the need to hurry. He dressed.

Beck left his cabin and knocked on von Loringhoven’s door.

President da Gama left the room to attend to other duties — Jeffrey reminded himself the man had an entire country to run.

Lunch was brought in. Jeffrey and Colonel Stewart made small talk with the two Brazilian generals. The admiral and Mr. Jones were working in another part of the underground bunker.

Jeffrey let Colonel Stewart set the tone, but the inconsequential chitchat was driving him crazy. Every neuron in his brain tingled for news of the stolen warhead, and every nerve in his body screamed for him to get back to his ship.

The Brazilians said they were having communications and mechanical difficulties making final arrangements for Jeffrey’s clandestine departure.

Jeffrey exerted tremendous self-control to master this latest lesson in command and diplomacy: patience.

But his self-control only went so far. He couldn’t help glancing often at the TV screen on the wall. Now it was set up to show a master status display. Estabo’s team had landed at Paranagua and were airborne, heading west