U.S.S. Seawolf

have had all the right gear on board.”

“Small-arms fire, sir.”

“You mean the slit-eyed Orientals opened fire on the team and stopped them?”

“Looks like it. Judd’s signal did not make clear whether there were bullets flying, or merely threats.”

“No reason to think Judd Crocker’s gone soft?”

“Negative. He’s probably the best submarine CO in the U.S. Navy.”

“I know he is. Which means there must have been bullets…But anyway, we now have Seawolf wallowing around with no propulsion, attached to the Chinese destroyer. So they make her fast, and we get a signal in from Judd that the submarine is being towed into the port of Canton. He did not clarify whether at that stage he considered his crew were prisoners.”

“Probably because he was uncertain himself.”

“Right. Now anyway, you guys open up the lines to the Chinese Navy, which informs you they have had a request from the American captain for assistance, and they are now giving that assistance, correct?”

“That’s what they said.”

“So the situation is now slightly confused. Crocker’s not protesting strenuously that he has been arrested in international waters, and the Chinks are just saying they are doing their best to help.”

“That’s it.”

“Well, then what?”

“Arnie, it gets a bit hazy from here. We alerted Langley immediately and they came in with a signal that a big company of Navy guards has been flown into Canton. Then Fort Meade adjusts the satellite and comes up with a picture of huge activity on the submarine jetty. It looks as if the crew has been taken off…then a coupla hours later the CIA hear from one of their field officers that almost a hundred American crewmen have been transported in Navy trucks to a civilian jail up in the northeast of the city, near that famous Canton landmark…what’s it called? The Mausoleum of the Seventy-two Martyrs.”

“Better make sure they don’t have to rename it for the One Hundred and Seventy-two Martyrs.”

“Anyway, that’s where we are. China is saying how peaceful they are and they will try to get our submarine working and back to sea. The crew are guests of the People’s Republic, and everyone hopes this incident will soon be over and forgotten.”

“Do you believe them, Joe?”

“Some. How about you?”

“None.”

“Hmmm. Okay, Arnie. I hear you” But let’s not lose sight of one thing: It’s not really in their interests to move to the brink of a serious confrontation with the U.S. And neither will they want to receive worldwide condemnation for rubbing out an entire American submarine crew. I am thus drawn to the conclusion that they may make some propaganda out of this. You know, poor peaceful Chinese with mad-dog American gangsters in their back-yard. But in the end they will wish to stay friends, and they will probably hand back our ship and her company. Perhaps with some kind of trade sweetener.”

“And a contribution to the Democratic Party’s election campaign.”

“Arnie, I am just trying to show you our mindset for the past twenty-four hours.”

“You want my advice?”

“Sure.”

“Shove your goddamned mindset straight down the tubes. And get a new one.”

“Huh?”

“Joe, seriously, lemme say this to you. The job of Chief of Naval Operations is very time-consuming. You have overall responsibility for running the biggest, most advanced operational fleet in the entire history of the world. You have an enormous day-to-day, hour-to-hour responsibility.

“My task in this world is different. I am here to think. To sit right here, in this room, and ponder the military activities currently happening on planet Earth. I spend all day reading, discussing, assessing and planning, trying to seek out weak spots, trying to second-guess our goddamned enemies. Which is why I am about to pontificate to you, right here in the West Wing at damned near two o’clock in the goddamned morning, what I consider the precise mindset of the Chinese.”

“Okay, old pal, I’m ready…by the way, can anyone around here bring us some coffee?”

“Joe, you can get anything around here if you want it badly enough. ’Cept for goddamned peace and quiet.”

He picked up the telephone and was instantly connected to the 40,000-calls-a-day White House switchboard. And Joe heard the outlaw-sweet tones of the most feared man in international military relations.

“Hello, this is Admiral Arnold Morgan. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking this evening? Maryanne? Perfect. Nice name. Now, Maryanne, I am sitting here in company with Admiral Joseph Mulligan, the professional head of the entire United States Navy. And what we seek is not too complicated…one pot of coffee, and one plate of cookies.…Now I realize this is not in your job description…but I want you to find someone to achieve those two objectives…coffee and cookies. You may use my name, quote my wishes shamelessly to any underling you may find…you may cajole and threaten.

“I know, Maryanne, that the hour is late, but my problems are many, and my needs are simple…and it is because of these particularly stressful tasks that very clever young ladies such as yourself are employed…thank you for your indulgence…’bye.”

“Jesus, you old smoothie.”

“Even I can’t yell at people at this late hour and expect ’em to function…but I have faith in Miss Maryanne.”

Six minutes later, a well-groomed young man in a starched white jacket knocked and entered with a large pot of coffee, bone china cups and saucers, a large plate of Pepperidge Farm cookies, and a sizeable plate of chicken sandwiches.…“Thought you might be hungry, sir.”

“You see, Joe, charm and diplomacy are sometimes necessary.”

Admiral Mulligan shook his head at the sheer blinding insincerity of the man. Even Admiral Morgan chuckled, but quickly added, “But not when you’re dealing with devious Orientals.”

“Okay, Arnie,” said Admiral Mulligan, munching cheerfully. “Lay it on me.”

The NSA walked across the room to his conference table and poured them coffee, firing a couple of rounds of “buckshot” into each cup — he never could remember the name Hermesetas, but he would have had it been that of a submarine. Then he walked over to a huge computer screen on his wall, the hard drive of which contained the up-to-date charts of all the world’s oceans. He switched on the system, punched in CHINA, then YELLOW SEA, then pulled up the northernmost point of that cul-de-sac ocean, the Bay of Liaodong.

“Right. Now here is where they built the new Chinese ICBM submarine, at this port up here, Huludao. Now we know how shallow the Yellow Sea is and we know the submarines, even newly built, leave there on the surface, running south down the coast of Korea, toward the deeper water.

“Now we wanna assume two things. One, Judd and his boys are on the case, following the new Xia III. Two, the Chinese suspect he might be around somewhere, which I have no doubt pisses them off royally.

“Anyhow, over the next few days there was quite a serious game of cat-and-mouse going on. We get some stuff on the satellite about a big depth charge and ASW mortar exercise off Taiwan. That was no exercise. Trust me. They thought they’d caught Judd, and they might’ve, but he got away.

“Now I’m guessing we have right here an even-more-pissed-off Chinese Navy. Look at the stuff from Fort Meade, look at these pictures from the South China Sea. Suddenly, up to the surface comes the new Xia. We photograph it from the satellite, right here on this chart. Three hours later we get a Fort Meade report of another big Chinese exercise, planes, choppers, ships everywhere, ten miles from where we saw the Xia. Again that was no exercise. Again that was Judd. Again he got away. By Christ, he’s hard to catch.

“Now, let’s assume he’s got what he came for, the photographs and measurements. But the Chinese still can’t find him. But they don’t give up. They actually send out their big new destroyer, Xiangtan, from Canton, into the area where Chinese Naval Intelligence is now guessing Seawolf might be. The main area search failed, right? So they decide to sniff out the