going to call Tun’s bluff.”
“Won’t China protect their general?” I ask.
“That we don’t know. The vice president is in seclusion with China’s president in Beijing. We’re not privy to what communications are going back and forth between Beijing and Washington. The bottom line is we have thirty minutes.”
“Then get Anna to give me and Carlson something to work with.”
“I’m working on it, Sam,” Grimsdottir cuts in. “I’m tracking two possibilities in your sector and one in Lieutenant Carlson’s sector. Give me five minutes to narrow them down to the best choice.” She sounds calm and collected in a stressful situation that would have anyone else at the breaking point.
The CHARC purrs closer to Santa Monica Pier as I study the sonar screen for anything unusual. Fish set off minor readings every few seconds. There’s a lot of junk down there that causes the metal detector to jump continuously. I’m beginning to understand the various meter levels and what they might mean so I don’t spend too much time looking at something that turns out to be nothing.
“Sam, I have coordinates for you.” Grimsdottir reads them out and says, “Something’s in motion there and it’s bigger than what you’ve seen so far.”
“I’m on my way.”
I guide the CHARC about four hundred yards to the south and watch the screens for any blips. Sure enough, there’s something down there. It’s metal, it’s moving at a slow speed, it’s about six feet long and approximately three feet wide. More promising is the fact that the Geiger counter is going nuts. I snap some sonar pictures of it and transmit them to Third Echelon, all the while staying above the thing. I reckon the speed to be about fifteen knots and at that rate it’ll be very near the shore in less than a half hour.
“Take a dive, Sam,” Lambert says. “Anna thinks that’s it.”
“Roger that.”
I put the CHARC on idle, lower the face mask, and insert the rebreather into my mouth. The backward dive off the vehicle pulls on my abdomen, which delivers a jolt of pain through the sore spots, but I ignore it and allow myself to descend. It’s been a while since I’ve been diving. It’s a lot like riding a bike, though — you never forget how.
The water here is murky and not very clean. L.A. must have one of the most polluted shorelines in the world, yet people swim in it all the time. This far out I would have expected it to be a little clearer but no such luck.
I switch on my lamp and shine the beam across the ocean floor until it finds the object. Sure enough, it’s an MRUUV, just like the one I saw in the submarine pen in China. It’s an odd thing to see down here. The device is shiny silver with several indicator lights burning brightly along the side. My earlier thought that it looks similar to a giant cigar tube is even more apropos down here.
I quickly surface, climb aboard the CHARC, and transmit my message. “You’re right, Anna. I’ve got one. And the Geiger is about to jump out of its skin.”
“Excellent,” Lambert says. “Stay on top of it, Sam. Stand by until we figure out what we want to do about the damned thing.”
“Well, hurry up. I’m not very fond of nuclear enemas.”
A few minutes go by and Anna says, “Sam, can you hear me when you’re underwater?”
“Yes.”
“Then go on back down.”
Another backflip off the CHARC and I’m below the surface. I break open a chem-light and place it in the holder so I can see what’s in front of me.
She continues. “Sam, I want you to swim alongside the MRUUV and look for something. Tap your OPSAT to let me know you’re there.”
I keep up the pace, swimming four feet above and parallel to the device, then push a button on the OPSAT.
“Okay, good. Now, do you see the rectangular panel on the top? It should be directly behind the antenna in the front.” I see it. The lid is roughly two feet by one foot.
AFFIRMATIVE, I type.
“Right. Now get on top of the thing like you’re riding a motorcycle. You’re going to have to unscrew that panel.”
“Sam, it won’t blow up just by touching it. It’s got to be protected against minor bumps and scrapes down there. The thing’s probably collided into a rock or two since being launched from the sub. Not to mention fish or other plant life. Go ahead, you’ll be okay.”
Fine. I swim a little faster so that I’m gliding evenly with the thing, then I reach down and grab the front end. I try not to flinch when I do so and thankfully “the Barracuda” just keeps purring along. I let it pull me through the water for a few seconds and then I lower myself onto its back. I’m now riding it as if it was a dolphin.
AFFIRMATIVE.
“Good. Now get that panel off. It’s the only way to get to the booby trap and, if I’m not mistaken, also to the guidance system controls and the bomb.”
I take a screwdriver from my utility belt and begin to work. The panel is lined with twelve screws, so it takes a few minutes to get them all off. I put them in a pouch on the belt in case I need them again later. The panel comes off and I hold it in one hand. In order to work with both hands I have to grip the MRUUV with my thighs.
“You can let go of the panel. You’re not going to need it again.” Okay, so I let it float away. I indicate that it’s off and she says, “Good. Now look carefully inside the compartment. I assume you have a chem-light? You should see plastic explosive attached to the inner surface, probably encased in waterproof material. It’s probably brick shaped and has wires coming out of it.”
I would have found it without her description. Recognizing explosives is part of my job. In fact, I’m pretty sure I can dismantle the thing without her instructions. It’s pretty straightforward. “What you need to do is determine which is the positive lead and which is the negative lead. The wires go to a—”
AFFIRMATIVE.
“Oh, okay, you know what you’re doing. Sorry.”
It’s a simple matter of disconnecting the explosive from the igniter. There’s probably a sensor located somewhere in the device that tells the igniter to do its business but I don’t have to worry about that. With a pair of wire cutters, I snip the appropriate leads and that should do the trick.
AFFIRMATIVE.
“Good. Now you should be able to get to the guidance system controls. Do you see what looks like a closed laptop inside the compartment?”
AFFIRMATIVE.
“See if you can open it.”
I do. It’s exactly like a laptop computer, complete with keyboard and monitor. A screen saver displaying Chinese characters and a GyroTechnics logo flashes on.
“All right, now you need to get into the main menu. Press any key to do so.”
AFFIRMATIVE.
It asks for a password. She tells me the password is “Taiwan000” and I type it in. I’m amazed that she knows that. It appears that Anna Grimsdottir is back in action.
“Sorry to interrupt, folks, but I have some news.” It’s Colonel Lambert. “The thirty-minute time limit has elapsed and the order’s been given.”
Damn, the time flew by.
“Our forces are attacking General Tun’s army at this moment. The navy, the air force, the marines — you name it. They’re unleashing hell on Tun’s little army.”
“Keep working, Sam,” Grimsdottir says calmly. “Tun will have to get a message to the submarine and give the order to blow the nuke. They’re not going to do it without his say-so.”
I hope you’re right, sister. Okay, let’s keep going. She instructs me how to get into the programmer’s main
