Seas of Crisis

Chapter 10

Jeffrey grabbed the intercom handset next to Carter’s XO’s desk. He wasn’t sure how to reach the Special Operations briefing space, so he called the control room.

“Messenger of the Watch, sir.”

“This is Commodore Fuller.”

“Yes, sir. Captain Harley asked me about ten minutes ago if I knew how much longer you’d be, but then he said I shouldn’t disturb you.”

“Have Captain Bell and Lieutenant Meltzer see me now.”

“In the XO’s stateroom, sir?”

“Yes. Inform Captain Harley that I’ll be needing him here, too, in private. I can’t say when yet, so give him my compliments and ask him to please continue waiting.”

“Understood, Commodore.”

Soon someone knocked on the door. Jeffrey got up and unlocked it, letting Bell and Meltzer in.

Jeffrey sat, Bell took the one guest seat, and Meltzer stood politely.

He studied the two of them, his flagship captain and his part-time executive assistant. He sized them up, measuring for himself whether they could handle the difficulties that Jeffrey now knew lay ahead.

“I’m not sure quite where to begin.” He tiredly rubbed the bridge of his nose. “There’s a major counterespionage effort going on back home that’s all too relevant to us. There’s an Axis mole somewhere in undersea warfare planning…. A remark Commander Nyurba made to me, that Carter’s mission to Norway had been compromised in advance, resonated strongly with a cautionary warning in my orders here.”

“Why do we need to know about this?” Meltzer asked.

“There’s danger of undetermined degree that our present mission was also leaked by the mole.”

Bell opened his mouth to say something; Jeffrey held up a hand to not interrupt.

“That’s why our current tasking has been organized and coordinated by a group of senior people selected by the President. Extraordinary compartmentalization was used to implement each detail. Even more than usual, those outside the President’s closed group have only very tiny pieces of the puzzle, with elaborate cover stories to justify activity they saw going on, those same cover stories spun so as to hide the special security measures. This gives only partial reassurance, as we proceed, that we haven’t been compromised…. My strike group has been provided with a cover story to use ourselves, explaining why we’ll be where we’ll be once we get there.”

“In case we’re detected, sir?” Bell asked.

“This is where it goes byzantine. Part of Challenger’s job, but not Carter’s, is to be detected. More than just detected.”

“Sir?” Meltzer blurted out.

“Patience. I want Captain Harley involved for that part. One difficulty is the battle with the Amethyste-Two. The Amethyste being there to begin with might have been the work of the mole. Let’s pray that compartmentalization kept the actual reason for the rendezvous, and the specific identity of our two ships, hidden from the Axis. If so, but only if so, our sinking the Amethyste, and surviving, have largely negated the work of the mole. Pray I’m right on that. If I’m wrong, and our adversary knows the actual reason why we’re coming, we’re heading into a terrible trap.”

Jeffrey reached for the intercom. “Tell your captain I’m ready for him.”

In two minutes Harley knocked and came in. Meltzer scrunched to make room; the compartment was packed. Bell offered Harley the guest chair. He shook his head. He stood instead, in a proprietary manner, arms folded, leaning against the bulkhead. Jeffrey sensed he was feeling slightly violated — from his angle, a close-knit clique from Challenger had been caucusing alone, in a subordinate’s stateroom on his ship. Harley could tell that the caucus had not been fun.

“Everybody listen up,” Jeffrey said, “and listen good. The President wants our mission to be accomplished in a hurry because we have to forestall the next major German move, whatever that might be, and our own forces globally are becoming too worn out. In particular, the delivery of the next Eight-six-eight-U nuclear sub from Russia to Germany is scheduled very soon, and from what we know of its capabilities we must forestall that delivery.”

“We sink it?” Harley asked. “Blockade it?” He seemed game for the fight.

“It’s far more complicated, I’m afraid, because far more is at stake. There’s the unlimited supply of oil and natural gas, aircraft, tanks, other arms of all different kinds that Russia keeps supplying to the Axis…. Our assignment is probably the single most important and dicey mission ever attempted in this war or any shooting war. It’s a last-ditch chance to halt the brinkmanship once and for all, before humanity incinerates itself…. We need to squelch our ethical reservations, we dare not flinch, because an objective observer could easily argue that what we’ve been ordered to do is a war crime.”

“Huh?” Harley’s guard was down now, so Jeffrey eyed Bell and Meltzer, then began to hit the three with the conclusion he’d been leading to.

“We’ll go into details with Lieutenant Colonel Kurzin and Commander Nyurba and their people in a few minutes. I want to set this up by asking you a question first, Captain Harley. It isn’t a trick question.”

“Go ahead, sir. Commodore.”

“How do you think this war will end?”

“With Allied victory, I hope.”

“Even though the Axis has nuked several populated islands, including Diego Garcia, very painfully for us? Even though they attempted to get two South American countries embroiled in tactical atomic combat with each other, on land, while trying to make it look like the U.S. was to blame? And even though, failing in that by a fraction of an inch, they then launched an offensive in the Middle East that could easily have unleashed Israel’s nuclear arsenal? With staggeringly catastrophic consequences if that had happened, which it very nearly did?”

“The oligarchy in Berlin are desperate dictators.”

“With no intention whatsoever of surrendering to avoid an apocalypse. They’ve proven that time and again. Like desperate dictators everywhere, they care nothing for the lives of their own citizens. Their intention all along has been to use the threat of apocalypse to get the U.S. to back down.”

“Would we do that? Back down? Ever?”

“If events continue as they have, voters may force Congress to offer an armistice. Let the Axis have Europe and Africa. Let the United Kingdom fend for themselves and go under. That’s exactly what Berlin and Johannesburg have been gunning for all along. Their envoys in Sweden prod ours, then they talk to the international media when we refuse, make Washington look like the heavies, the ones who drag out the war. Put enough pressure on the American public, that pressure gets passed to Capitol Hill. They’d override the President’s veto, we’d have peace of a sort, with our war leader gone from the White House in disgrace. Forget Election Day 2012. Armistice means impeachment. Escapist pacifism quickly takes firm hold.”

“That’s a grim picture.”

“Especially since the Axis wouldn’t be satisfied to just keep what they got. They’d use that lopsided peace to squash the U.S. economically, flush our remaining prestige down the toilet, put a noose of diplomatic isolation around our neck, build up their military might, and eventually have another major stab at the parts of the world they don’t yet control.”

Harley scratched his jaw. “Agreeing to an armistice is a snare, an illusion? It only delays the inevitable?”

“Very much so. Thorough wargame simulations have been performed in the past few months, to see where things could possibly go from here.” Jeffrey tapped the thick hard-copy orders on the desk. “Several independent sets of players and computer models were used, including at the Naval War College. I was assigned to their simulations department before I wangled a transfer to Challenger. I can testify that those folks do objective, reliable, conclusive work. They’re the best.”

“I know. They have a world-class reputation.”

“Other war colleges, private think tanks, consulting firms, were also involved. They all came up with similar results.”