Nimitz Class

of expensive, cream-colored writing paper, which he handed to the boss. “Came this morning. Air mail letter postmarked from Cairo, Egypt. Addressed to the Director, Office of National Security, Fort Meade, Maryland. USA. No zip.”

In the center of the almost empty sheet there were just four very short lines, composed on a word processor:

120630APR024436N3332E.

050438MAY023557N0548W.

082103JUL021992N6395E.

251200SEP025440S6000W.

Nothing else. No date. No signature. No address. “I get the mail before everyone else,” said Admiral Morgan, irrelevantly.

“Yes, I had realized that,” replied the CNO. “What is it? Dates and times, written in Navy style. Plus chart positions.”

“That’s correct, sir. It was the second line which got me. That “050438MAY02.” That’s the exact date and time we heard the submarine in the Gibraltar Strait. Those numbers are written on my heart, 050438. I almost did not have to check the map reference…35.57 North, and 05.48 West. It’s in the probability zone given for its detection.

“Then I checked the first line. And that’s the exact date and time of the Kilo’s departure from its home port, according to Baldridge’s report, which he based on information from Admiral Rankov. April 12, first light. The position, 44.36 North, 33.32 East, is that of Sevastopol.

“The third line is the precise date and time of the sinking of the Jefferson…July 8, three minutes after 2100. The map reference is slightly more refined than ours, but identical.”

“So, Arnold, is the fourth line, which begins with a date fifteen days from now, where we might expect the Kilo to show up next? Or, where the writer would like us to think the Kilo will show up next?”

“Precisely, sir. I do have some idea of where the note came from, but nonetheless, it is anonymous. The interesting part is its information, because most of it has been available to only very few of us. Line one, the departure time and date, was known to several people, although not to us, until Baldridge found out three weeks ago.

“Line two, date, time, and position of the Kilo in the strait. The time is exact to the minute. Well, a few of our people might have known what was heard, but there you’d be talking about a hoax. And I don’t see any U.S. serviceman joking about this. No, sir. The only people who knew the time and date and position of the ship when that noise was made were the guys who made it.”

Admiral Dunsmore nodded slowly. “Yes,” he said. “And they also knew the time, date, and departure from Sevastopol.”

“Correct. None of us knew that before Baldridge told us. And since then, only you and I, and maybe two or three staff members, were acquainted with his report. It’s never left Fort Meade, except with me.”

“Right. That narrows things down a bit.”

“Which brings us to line three, the Jefferson, date, time, and position at the moment of destruction. The accuracy in this note is precise, it’s possibly better than our own.

“Now, our accident analysis guys have worked on this, and they know the position of the carrier. But not one of the analysis people is connected in any way with the information path involving the sonar contact in the Gibraltar Strait. That leaves us with very few suspects among ourselves — six altogether, you, me, Baldridge, your Lieutenant Commander Jay Bamberg and his assistant. And my lieutenant. I exclude them all, categorically.”

“So do I. That means we’re looking for people outside who could have known all of these things.”

“Sir, there’s no place else to look. The author must have been aware of the doubts expressed about the lost Kilo; he must have known it made a detectable noise off Gibraltar; and he must have known the precise time, and precise place, where the Jefferson was hit. My conclusion is that the author of this note was either in that submarine, or was in possession of a full report from that submarine.”

“That’s just about where I was getting to, Arnie.”

“Kinda obvious, really. Which means they intended it to be obvious. The author established impeccable credentials in the first three lines, in order to establish his fourth line as that of an unimpeachable source.”

“Has he done it?”

“I think he has. His intention is plainly to make us believe that the Kilo will be found on September 25, at the time and position he gives in statement four.”

“I see it’s in the South Atlantic. Where exactly?”

“It’s about a hundred miles due south of the Falkland Islands. Four hundred from Cape Horn, east-nor’east. Now, I haven’t the slightest idea where the Kilo’s headed, but it must be going to South America somewhere. Which makes sense, I guess, if you happen to be the most wanted ship’s company in history.”

“Yes. It does. And since all of our evidence suggests they have been operating on behalf of Iraq, we might wonder whether that old alliance between Iraq and Chile could be at the heart of their escape route.”

“Well, sir, I’d rule out any Argentinean Navy base. They’re too far south for that. The obvious port that Kilo’s heading for would be Punta Arenas, which is in Chile, right opposite the northwest end of Tierra del Fuego.

“That way, its route would be around Cape Horn into the Pacific, then north up the South American coast, turning east after about 250 miles, into the Cockburn Channel. Then on into the Magellan Strait. Punta Arenas is right in there, sheltered, with a lot of deep water. It’s also full of deserted little islands. If ever you wanted a great place to hide out in a submarine, staying underwater, coming up to the surface just to let guys off, every coupla days, that’s the spot.”

“Yes, Arnie. Especially if you have a ton of money for each one of them, and a boat to run ’em ashore.”

“Are you getting the feeling, sir, that this escape has been very well planned?”

“You could say that, Arnold.”

“That’s my feeling, too. The question is, are we being led into a trap? Or does the writer of this note just want us to go down there and blow the Kilo out of the water?”

“Arnold, if this Adnam character is a Muslim Fundamentalist he may have expected to die with the Jefferson. But right now he is on the loose, apparently in the South Atlantic, driving a Russian submarine which is still armed to the teeth with torpedoes, one of them nuclear. This could be a trap. He could just be down there, waiting for our SSN’s to show up…just as he waited for the carrier. In a submarine battle, fought sub-surface, the advantage lies, as you know, with him who gets there first, with him who is lying in wait.”

“Yes. And, maybe, sir, he who does not give a shit if he dies.”

“Right. But let’s just go over our options…first of all, we write off hoax. That’s out of the question. Secondly, we assume the author of this note is either in the submarine and sent it out to colleagues via satellite. Or, it was sent by someone not in the submarine, who was in a controlling position. Are we agreed, so far?”

“Yessir.”

“Therefore this is either a trap designed to wipe out another couple of big expensive U.S. warships or it is a straightforward ploy to get us to blow up the Kilo.”

“That would seem rock solid, sir. But it wouldn’t be a trap. There are so many easier ways to blow up our ships, without making a date.”

“So, what do we do?”

“We get down there with a lotta muscle and blow the sonofabitch to smithereens. That’s what we do.”

“Do we investigate the possibility of a new, unknown friend?”

“Sir. I was just coming to that. I think we do have a new friend. And I think I know who he is. Was. But I just wanted to run this entire sequence right through, to acquaint you with the full picture and all of its ramifications.”

At this point, Admiral Morgan explained in full his conversation with General Gavron. “It is possible, sir, the letter was dispatched, directly or indirectly, from a doomed Mossad man in Cairo. And I think we should act on it