Eight minutes later, at the precise time a U.S. Navy staff car squealed up the ramp and out of the Pentagon garage, the phone rang in Admiral Morgan's office and the crisp-sounding voice of the Emperor of all the U.S. Navy SEALs, Rear Adm. John Bergstrom, said curtly, ' 'Morning, Admiral. Whaddya need?'
'Hi, John. You outta bed?'
'I'm in the factory. Been here for twenty minutes.'
'You must have sensed my feeling of urgency?'
'Well, sir. I'm only guessing. But rumor has it we got a boatload of fucking Islamic terrorists trapped in the Panama Canal like rats in a cage.'
'You're well informed, as usual. And you're right. They're in there. In a submarine. Trouble is, the waterway is about forty miles wide, bolted and barred at both ends, with about seven billion places to hide under the surface for the next several years.'
'Not your average cage, eh? Guess you want my boys to go in and find 'em?'
'I don't think we can do that. The Gatun Lake is so god-damned big, and the satellites aren't giving us much help. We'd want a force of about ten thousand guys with boats and heavy-duty sonar to have a prayer of locating the submarine. Plus, we can't get even one ship in there. The goddamned Chinese, as you know, have closed it.'
'You want to bomb it?' asked Admiral Bergstrom. 'Or come straight at it with ground-launched cruise missiles?' He was deadly serious, mindful always of the twin creeds of both the SAS and the SEALs: The majority of the world's problems can be solved with high-explosives.
'I think in this case, John, bombs or missiles may be just too messy, cause too much havoc. Christ knows how many missiles we'd have to throw at it. Those damned canal locks are probably the most solid, concrete structures ever built anywhere in the world. Also, an attack like that would smack of the U.S. bullying a defenseless Central American State. And that way we'd have to admit everything about the Chinese connection. Most Americans have no idea we somehow allowed the Canal to be given to Red China.'
'Well, I guess you aren't planning to leave these Islamic bastards in there, are you?'
'At this point, I have to assume they've escaped. That's why I'm pursuing this course of action. We are going to find the submarine and we are taking back the Panama Canal. And if we kick some Chinese ass in the process, that's fine with me.'
Admiral Bergstrom exhaled with a low whistle. 'Lay it on me, sir,' he said.
'We're gonna blow up the locks on the Atlantic-side entrance.'
For a brief moment, the SEAL Chief was silent. Then he said quietly, 'Did you not just say bombs were too messy?'
'I did. At least the kind of bombs we dropped on Kosovo and Afghanistan and Saddam are too messy. Right here I'm talking subtlety. Because our objectives have rigid guidelines. Because if these nutcases want to hide the submarine permanently, they're gonna have to turn off the nuclear reactor and then submerge. That, of course, will leave our satellites' infrared just about blind to them.
'And if they do that, they have to disembark the ship because it won't have any power; no air, no water, no refrigeration, no light, nothing. Except for a few days' emergency supplies. Therefore, they will almost certainly shut off the reactor, flood her down, and beat it, with Chinese help, to the nearest airstrip. I wouldn't be surprised if they were already out of there.'
'So you want to destroy one of the world's great international seaways in order to locate and examine the submerged hulk of an aging, Russian-built submarine from which the crew has vanished?'
'It's more than that, John. China has set a dangerous precedent by essentially harboring a terrorist in the Canal. But I need proof the submarine is still in there. If we take out the Atlantic-side locks, the entire Gatun Lake is going to drain into the ocean. Millions and millions of tons of water. And that's going to leave that submarine high and dry. At least, high and wet. Somewhere.
'And when we find that wreck, it will have someone's fingerprints all over it. Which will give us the right to kick the Chinese right out of the Canal Zone and retake the Canal unopposed.
'Remember that entire structure is American, and we're still the only guys on earth who could rebuild it. And that way we'll keep for ourselves every one of the millions and millions of dollars it makes in toll charges every year. For a long time.'
'The Panamanians ain't going to like that.'
'The Panamanians can go stuff themselves. I'll teach those little bastards to tear up a contract they had with the United States and hand our goddamned property over to Red fucking China.'
'Well,' said Admiral Bergstrom, 'they did have the help of a U.S. President. When push came to shove, Clinton never tried to enforce any of our rights down there.'
'Don't remind me,' said Arnold. 'But that moment yesterday, when a U.S. warship was illegally denied access, was a moment both the Chinese and their half-assed Central American buddies will regret for many years to come.'
'Minor details, sir?'
'Of course.'
'Who's blowing up the Canal? How? And when?'
'Your boys, John. Your fabulous boys. The gates on the upper Gatun Locks, the ones that open into the lake itself. Forty-eight hours from now.'
Once more the veteran SEAL Chief exhaled with a whistle. 'How big are the gates, sir?'
'Oh, quite manageable, really. 'Bout seventy-seven feet high, sixty-five feet wide, seven feet thick. Not too hefty, eight hundred tons, of course, because they're steel, riveted over iron girders. But they are hollow.'
'Oh. Thank God for that,' replied Admiral Bergstrom, a touch of irony in his voice. 'I was afraid they might be heavy.'
Arnold Morgan chuckled. 'John, I'm asking you to blow apart two of the heaviest gates ever built. But security is negligible. I don't anticipate a lot of opposition. And I forecast an unopposed landing.'
'By sea?'
'No. Helicopters, off a carrier. The Dwight D. Eisenhower has been in overhaul, in Mayport, Florida. Right now she's in the Roosevelt Roads, east of Puerto Rico, on her way in. She's nearly twelve hundred miles nor'nor'west of Panama, thirty-six hours' steaming. She'll be in the area by tomorrow night.'
'What's with her?'
'Usual battle group escorts… four frigates, coupla destroyers, the cruiser Shiloh, and two LA Class submarines. Ought to be enough to protect your precious SEALs.'
'Guess so. How do we get there?'
'Fly to Pensacola, then directly to the carrier.'
'Could I just ask when you worked all this out, sir? The damn submarine didn't even get into the Canal until yesterday afternoon.'
'Mostly at around 0500 this morning. Alan Dickson and I have both been up all night. He'll be here in a few minutes.'
'Give him my best, willya? But I have one more question: If we blow the lakeward gates in the upper chamber, what happens if it just fills up the lock and the next gates hold. You want my guys to stay and hit them as well, or blow both sets at the same time?'
'John, I have had three guys from the Army Corps of Engineers in here in the wee hours of this morning, and each one of them took about three minutes to make up his mind on one point. If the lakeward gates at the top are taken out suddenly, the force of the water crashing into the chamber will flatten the next gates. That chamber's a thousand feet long, one hundred ten feet wide and more than sixty feet high. You're talking around thirty thousand tons of water gathering speed and slamming into the second gates.
'Remember, that chamber that stood on its end is taller than the Eiffel Tower. It would be like hitting the second gates with the Eiffel Tower! And it's gonna be traveling at maybe sixty miles an hour. The engineers say chances of the second gates holding are a lot less than zero.'
'Works for me,' said Rear Admiral Bergstrom. 'I'll be back on the line in two hours. Someone just told me there's all kinds of maps, charts, and diagrams arriving on E-mail. I imagine that's from you guys.'
'Correct, sailor. Hop to it, now, and lemme know the size of the detachment going in.'
'I'll be back soon as my guys assess the amount of explosive we need to blow the gates. The more TNT, the
