Now Morgan elected not to broach the topic of the Chinese submarines until the CNO arrived. He glanced at the open pages of the
“Not that I’ve hit on so far, sir,” said Boomer, grinning. “Matter of fact I’ve been reading a long article in here about that Woods Hole research ship that vanished last year. I’ve read some stuff about it before by the same guy — Frederick J. Goodwin. Seems to know a lot about it.”
“That’d make a change for a newspaper reporter,” growled the Admiral. “Normally they know just about enough to be a goddamned nuisance.”
Boomer chuckled. “Well, sir, he’s been down to that French island where the ship disappeared. Found the first bit of wreckage, a hunk from a bright red styrene life buoy. Had the letters
“I guess that more or less proves she went to the bottom, eh?”
“This guy thinks not. He’s saying that if she went down, there would have been wreckage all over the place. And since the Navy sent a frigate in to search they
“That was kind of unusual. Our frigate was down there sniffing around for three months. Still found zilch. What does he say about the attack that was mentioned in the final message?”
“That’s really his whole point, Admiral. He reckons they were attacked, and that a crew member made a desperate last-ditch attempt to alert the outside world by dropping a
“Yes there is.”
“What’s that?”
“The guys who sunk her hung around for a couple of days and cleared everything up. By the time our frigate got there the place was empty.”
“Right. Except for one little bit of one life belt that got away.”
“That’s it. Where did they find it, by the way?”
“That’s another interesting bit of deduction by Mr. Goodwin. He says it was trapped in the windward side of a large rock, not quite big enough to be called an island. He says the position of the life buoy strongly suggests it did not come in from the open sea, but from the fjord itself.”
“Well, our frigate captain was of the opinion the
“Goodwin thinks the frigate captain would almost certainly have avoided that particular bit of water. It’s apparently very close to a big kelp bed, and the channel there is narrow and rocky. He doesn’t think any Navy captain in his right mind would want to go through there in a warship.”
“Guess not, Boomer. Better to miss the old life buoy than get that stuff in your intakes and end up getting towed out of there two weeks later.”
“Yessir. I’m with the captain on that one.”
“So what’s Mr. Goodwin’s conclusion? Does he think
“He thinks not, sir. He thinks she’s still floating somewhere, but he does not offer much of an opinion about the crew or the scientists on board. He just thinks it unlikely that our frigate would not have got some firm indication from somewhere that they were steaming right over the wreck of the Woods Hole ship.”
“Sounds like he’s getting overexcited. I hate mysteries, you know. But I read this report pretty thoroughly at the time. It is possible she sank out in the bay in six hundred feet. Then you really might not find her.”
“That’s true, Admiral. But Goodwin says the flow of the water, and the prevailing westerlies, make it a nautical impossibility for that life buoy to have ended up where it did.”
“I doubt there’s much accounting for which way the wind blows inshore there, whatever the hell it’s doing out at sea. So I suppose we’ll just have to let the matter rest. Pity.”
“Admiral, I don’t think this character Goodwin is very anxious to let it rest. He’s writing about the subject for the next three days. Tomorrow’s piece is entitled ‘The Menace of Kerguelen.’”
Just then the door flew open and Admiral Joe Mulligan came in still wearing his big Navy greatcoat. “Gentlemen,” he said immediately, “I am really sorry about this. Hi, Boomer, Admiral. Yet another problem with that new carrier. She’s supposed to be commissioned in March, but God knows how that’s ever gonna happen. She’s supposed to be on station in the Indian Ocean by midsummer — I can’t leave the
“So do I, Joe,” said Admiral Morgan slowly.
He smiled at the ex-submariner who now occupied the highest chair in the United States Navy. Arnold Morgan and Joe Mulligan had known each other for many years, way back since the Academy, and to Arnold at least, it had been obvious for some time that the Boston Irishman was being groomed for the highest office in the Navy.
Joe stood six feet four inches tall. He had a craggy face carved with laugh lines. His wit was sharp, and both his hair and his eyes were battleship gray. In his youth, Joe had been a good football player, tight end for the Midshipmen in the Army game 1966. He was a submariner through and through and never wanted to operate in any other field. Former commanding officer of a Polaris boat up in Holy Loch, Scotland, Joe Mulligan ended up in one of the most sought after operational positions in the entire United States Navy — Captain of the 18,500-ton Trident submarine
The men who drove the Tridents were regarded as the elite commanders of the US Navy — in some ways even more important than the admirals in charge of the Carrier Battle Groups. Each one of them had been blessed with that near-mystical ability not only to handle and run their giant underwater ships with chilling efficiency, but also to understand the greater picture of both the undersea world and the political world that surrounded them. They were men of stealth, ruthlessness, and absolute certainty in their own abilities.
Captain Joseph Mulligan was widely considered to have been the best of the Trident commanders. His promotional path to become a vice admiral and then Commander Submarine Force, Atlantic Fleet and Allied Command (Atlantic), had nevertheless taken many people by surprise. When Admiral Scott Dunsmore predictably moved up to become Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, there were three admirals in line to become the new Chief of Naval Operations. The outsider among them was Joe Mulligan, and when he was appointed over the other two more senior men, a lot of people were very surprised.
Arnold Morgan was not among them. He regarded Admiral Mulligan as an outstanding Naval strategist and administrator. He also knew him to be an expert on modern guided missile systems with a degree in nuclear physics. What Morgan really admired however was the new CNO’s deeply cynical view of the motives of all other nations. The two men shared an unshakable view of the proper supremacy of the United States of America.
Admiral Mulligan motioned for the President’s new Security Adviser to join him in the inner office, leaving the Commander outside for a while. He issued strict instructions that they were not to be disturbed, short of an outbreak of war, mutiny, or fire, and could someone please bring in some
Admiral Mulligan’s desk did not look too big for the head of the United States Navy, and Mulligan looked like a man who had been born to occupy the large office. Arnold Morgan smiled as the CNO growled, “Right, Arnie. What are we gonna do about these Chinese pricks?”
He then pulled a classified file out of his locked desk drawer, thumbed through the pages, and said he thought he would like his old buddy first to brief him thoroughly on the political background of the present situation.
“Okay, Joe. I want to go through this very carefully because I have a feeling there has been some kinda blockage in the flow of information. Either that, or things which I regard as critically important are not so regarded by others, which means we are dealing with a bunch of dumb-ass sonsabitches, right?”
“Right.”
“Now, this is going to take me a few minutes, Joe, so bear with me, will you? I have two points of departure,
