Exit Plan

floor. As he tugged it toward the Iranian couple, Fazel came over and helped him carry it. The corpsman was impressed. “Great work, XO. This will do nicely.”

“Well, it isn’t a Sealy Posturepedic mattress. But it should do the job.”

Yousef had picked Shirin up off the floor, partly to make sure she stayed covered, but also because she was still shivering so hard it was questionable that she could even stand. Jerry and Fazel positioned the makeshift bedding in the center of the building, and Yousef gently put her down. Shirin’s face, still darkened by the sand, showed a weak smile. It was all she could offer as a thank-you. Fazel reassured her that she would start feeling warmer soon, then suggested that Yousef should snuggle up close to her and transfer some of his body heat to her.

* * *

After their meal, Jerry sat down with Ramey and Lapointe. The two had been poring over a map and taking stock of their situation. Ramey appeared to be calmer, but Jerry detected concern in Lapointe’s voice.

“Boss, we could be stuck here for days if this storm is really bad. And we’re almost out of MREs and water. We’ll have to start foraging soon.”

“I know, Pointy. I know. We really should leave and move on tonight, but I doubt Doc will support it. Dr. Naseri probably can’t handle another night out in the open with that kind of weather.”

“How long does a spring shamal normally last?” asked Jerry. He’d heard about the summer storms that could go on for days, sometimes for an entire week.

Ramey let loose with a deep sigh. “The spring storms aren’t as intense as the summer ones. Typically a spring shamal can be as short as several hours, or as long as a day. Maybe a day and a half.”

“This one is on the weak side, XO. Not that anyone here would likely agree with that after the hour we spent in it.” Lapointe’s wry smile told Jerry that he was back to his old self. “But if I had to guess, twelve hours. Eighteen tops.”

“More worst-case planning then?”

“Exactly,” said Lapointe, as he touched his nose with his index finger and pointed in Jerry’s direction. “And it don’t look too good, if you ask me.”

“What Petty Officer Lapointe is trying to say, XO, is that we are running short of provisions and we’ll need to start looking for food and water as well as trying to evade capture.” Ramey was still a bit snippy, but he had definitely improved.

“This shouldn’t be a problem, gentlemen,” Jerry said nonchalantly. Both SEALs looked confused; convinced that he just didn’t understand the dilemma they were in.

“Once the weather clears, we contact Michigan and have them send in one of the Cormorant UAVs with supplies and any gear you think we might need. Since they’re stealthy, it should have no problem avoiding Iranian early warning radars.” But as Jerry started to describe how this aerial resupply theoretically would go down, he ran into an assumption that he hadn’t thought of initially.

“The only trick is that Michigan will have to stay at periscope depth and guide the UAV to us. If the patrol boat activity is still heavy, this could seriously complicate matters.”

Now it was Lapointe’s turn to look cocky. “Michigan won’t have to, XO. I have the portable remote control terminal in my pack. I can guide the UAV straight to us and then send it back on a different preprogrammed course. All Michigan has to do is launch and then retrieve the UAV. We just have to be careful how long we use the terminal. It uses a low power, frequency-hopping signal, but it is an omnidirectional transmission and is more detectable than the 117 SATCOM radio.”

“Okay. We’ll contact Michigan tonight and give them our shopping list, which needs to include more blankets and a SCAR for the XO, as well as food and water. We can arrange a drop location once we have a better idea of how long it will take for the weather to clear,” concluded Ramey. “Now, I strongly suggest you guys get some rest. I’ll take the first watch with Doc.”

* * *

As Jerry laid down his head on a pile of boxes, he realized just how exhausted he really was. In that fuzzy state between consciousness and sleep, Jerry looked at the Iranian couple. Both were sound asleep, with Yousef holding Shirin close to keep her warm and to reassure her that, for now, everything was all right. As Jerry finally drifted off, his last thought was, I miss you, too, Emily.

11 UNEXPECTED REUNION

28 September 2009 0745 Local Time

Naval Postgraduate School

Monterey, California

It was the first day of class, and he was going to be late. Jerry grumbled to himself as he walked as fast as he could, given the deep mist. The day had not started out well. It had been a very long weekend, with late nights on both Saturday and Sunday to unpack his household goods, and he had overslept. Then there was the fog. Jerry had been warned about Monterey’s bumper crop of fog days, but this was ridiculous. Visibility was a quarter mile at the very best, usually less, and it made the commute painfully slow. He was fortunate to find a parking spot along the fence line, but he still had a short hike to the nearest gate.

Jerry flashed his military ID as he entered the gate and began walking in the general direction of Spanagel Hall. He had spent most of the previous week getting acquainted with the Naval Postgraduate School campus, locating all his classrooms and getting to know the general lay of the land. But all his landmarks were now totally obscured by the pea soup the Pacific Ocean had served up for breakfast. A faint dull shadow was all Jerry could discern of a building in the swirling gray around him, and he made a beeline toward it.

He bounded up the steps and flew through the front doors. He paused momentarily in the foyer to gain his bearings, left stairwell or right? Right! Again he took off, taking two stairs at a time. As he approached the second floor, Jerry glanced at his watch — 8:03. Damn! He had just reached the top of the flight of stairs when suddenly, POW!

He had run into something, and hard. Jerry reeled to his left following the collision. Papers were strewn in the air and he heard a body hit the floor. A woman’s voice squeaked out a surprised “Ohh!” followed immediately by a more guttural “Umph.”

Jerry steadied himself against the wall, cursing his stupidity. He looked down and saw a small woman sitting on the floor, her papers and books scattered around her. Mortified, Jerry got down to help her pick them up and began apologizing, “I am so sorry. I didn’t see you at all. Are you all right?”

The young woman seemed shocked when she heard his voice, and then spun her head about quickly. When Jerry saw her face, his heart stopped.

“Jerry?”

“Emily?”

“What are you doing here?” they both said simultaneously. Dr. Emily Davis laughed, obviously pleased to see him; Jerry felt awkward.

“I work here, Jerry. I’m the Deputy Director of the Center for Autonomous Vehicle Research,” she said with a huge smile.

“I’m just a lowly student,” replied Jerry, stunned, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on. “Who happens to be late for his first class.”

“Can we meet for lunch? I’d love to talk to you,” asked Emily. It was more of a plea than a request. “I’m free at eleven o’clock.”

Jerry pulled out his schedule and saw he had a conflict. “Can’t, I have physics at eleven. How about one o’clock?”

Emily sighed. “Can’t, I’m teaching Intro to Unmanned Systems and then I have office hours at the lab.”

Jerry shook his head. Here we go again, he thought. Then trying not to sound too interested, he asked, “Since our schedules aren’t cooperating, how about dinner?”

“That would be lovely.”