Warran Jacobs asked, “Skipper, what are the Rules of Engagement?”
“Standard peace time ROE, Nav. We protect ourselves. We protect US Nationals and we follow International Law. In other words ‘red and tight.’ Any more questions?"
Rich Baker had been staring intently at the chart. He broke in, "Captain, I don't understand the track. If we are supposed to get to this island as quick as we can, why are we going all the way East to the Sunda Straits? Couldn't we just duck in by Bali, for instance?"
Hunter looked over at the young officer. "Very perceptive question, Mr. Baker. Yes we could. There is one problem, though. The Indonesian Navy has four KILO submarines and a credible surface ASW force. Two of the KILOs haven’t been accounted for in the last couple of weeks. We have no idea where they are. They could be anywhere. If the Indonesians are setting an ASW trap, we have to be very wary. Those straits are too narrow for even someone as quiet as we are to slip through. The Sunda Straits are the only ones wide and deep enough to give a high probability of getting through undetected."
Hunter looked around the room, "Any more questions? If not, that wraps it up. Remember this has all been Top Secret Code Word. Not a word to anyone, not even the rest of the crew.”
With those final words, the group broke up in a babble of excited chatter and charged out of the wardroom to resume their duties.
An hour later, Hunter and Fagan met in the CO’s stateroom. Hunter sipped his coffee and said, “That ought to give them enough to start some planning. Should also help to quiet some of the scuttlebutt going around the boat.”
“Yes, sir. But you sort of skirted around the issues that all those missing scientists were biochemists and that most of them had worked on Saddam’s biological warfare projects,” Bill Fagan replied.
“That’s right,” Hunter shot back, “and if you recall those briefings that you and I attended in SUBPAC’s basement, no one is to know about the smallpox. If word of that leaked out, we would have a worldwide panic, particularly now that we know how deadly it is and how quickly it spreads. If those terrorists are working on an improved strain like we think, and if they are successful, it could be devastating. Common smallpox was highly infectious and deadly. Millions died before it was finally eradicated. An improved strain is unthinkable."
Hunter opened his large safe and retrieved a small folder. It was conspicuously labeled in large red letters "TOP SECRET, GOLDEN DAWN".
“You remember that outbreak of West Nile encephalitis in Queens a couple of years ago? There was some media speculation that it was a terrorist attack, but that was quickly dismissed."
He opened the folder and scanned down the first few pages. "The CIA and the FBI both were quick to say that there was no indication of any terrorist involvement. This report speculates that it was a trial run for Mustaf’s first attack. His people had isolated the virus and tried it out in Queens. Apparently the strain was not virulent enough and the mosquito-borne vector was too slow to satisfy him. Six dead and about a hundred sick before it was brought under control and we are still dealing with occasional outbreaks. After that he apparently switched to the genetically engineered smallpox for faster results."
Bill Fagan interjected, “I remember reading an article somewhere that some Congressman was lobbying to set up some sort of CIA-directed task force to detect and counteract any terrorists attacks, headed up by some sort of anti-terrorist czar. Seemed like nothing ever came of that.”
Hunter handed Fagan the folder, opened to a page headed 'Background'. “Well, that’s not quite the whole story,” the Commander answered. “The task force was set up under the direction of the National Security Advisor. It is very hush-hush. As you can see, the CIA and the NSA are the primary members, but of course the FBI and DIA are involved. They have thwarted several attempts over the last couple of years that no one ever heard of. They are directing this mission. Read through that report. It'll give you some more background.”
02 Jun 2000, 1850LT (0650Z)
The red alarm light blinked on a millisecond before the siren started its ear piercing scream. The startled reactor operator leaped up, cutting out the siren with his left hand, while searching his myriad of gauges for the problem.
Smoke had just started to wisp around the maneuvering room door when the reactor technician stuck his head in and shouted, “Fire in rod control!”
The EOOW shouted into the 7MC announcing system “Conn, maneuvering, reactor scram, fire in the reactor control panels! Class Bravo fire in the reactor control panel!”
Fire was the hazard most feared by submariners. There was no escaping it; the only means of survival was fighting it and putting it out before it irreparably damaged the ship. If not contained, the atmosphere would rapidly fill with toxic gases and the smoke would reduce visibility to zero. No one could go outside to get a breath of fresh air or escape the searing heat.
To make matters still worse, this fire was in the very controls that allowed them to extract the nuclear power that they needed to drive them home.
The fire destroyed the control circuits, which, in turn, caused the hafnium reactor control rods to release from their latching arms. Gravity and giant springs drove the control rods into the reactor core, stopping the nuclear fission that provided the heat to make the steam to drive SAN FRANCISCO's massive turbines. The sub’s powerful reactor shut down.
