Chapter 30
"I'm Officer John Conroy, and this is Robert Baker, CIA. We’ve had a situation.”
“What kind of situation?” I asked.
"I'm going to read you both in. What I’m about to tell you remains in the strictest confidence. Tell no one aboard the habitat. Discuss it with no one but myself or Officer Baker.”
"Copy that."
Conroy held a picture up to the screen. It was a satellite view of a submarine leaving port.
"This is the Silent Dragon. A Type 097, Phantom-class attack submarine. It is the latest and greatest China has to offer. This is the last image we have of the submarine as it left the shipyard. This photograph was taken over a month ago. Shortly after it submerged, we lost track of the submarine completely.”
JD and I shared a look.
"It vanished without a trace. We were unable to pick up its acoustic signature.
I don't need to tell you, gentlemen, how concerning that is. That submarine has been able to operate without detection. We believe the submarine was fitted with a Quantum Noise-Canceling Array. That technology is far beyond our current capabilities, and puts us at a significant disadvantage. It is a national security threat.”
"I see how it would be of concern," I said. "What does that have to do with us?" I asked, dreading where this was going.
"This morning, we picked up an acoustic anomaly not far from your current location.
The Silent Dragon broke radio silence and sent a distress signal.
We believe there was some type of explosion aboard the boat.
The Chinese went into panic mode and have scrambled search and recovery teams. We believe the submarine has gone down within a few miles of the habitat.
Tristan has offered his full support, and the habitat provides a perfect cover for Operation Ghost Echo.
It's going to take the Chinese a little while to mobilize their efforts. And they can’t exactly send the Navy off the Florida coast. On top of that, I don't think they want to admit they lost the sub.
We can't overtly search for and recover the submarine or the quantum canceling device without causing an international incident.
But make no mistake, gentlemen, we want that device and the QNCA core processing module. You two are going to get them."
“Do you know where the sub is?” I asked.
“We have an idea, based on the acoustic data from the explosion and distress signal. Time is of the essence, and you are in a unique position to accomplish this mission. This is an opportunity for you to be of great service to your country. Can we count on you?”
“Of course,” I said.
“That’s what I like to hear. The quantum array will be located near propulsion, which is a magnetohydrodynamic drive.
We think they are hot-swappable nodes. You’ll have to enter the sub to recover the Core Processing Module.
I can’t tell you how valuable this technology would be on the open market.
Terrorists, foreign governments, and even the Chinese would pay billions for this.
You both will be rewarded handsomely if you succeed. Failure is not an option.”
“Copy that,” I said. “How am I supposed to find the CPM?”
“Our intel suggests it’s a 6x9 rack-mounted module containing processors, sensor algorithms, and real-time canceling software. We have an asset that was involved in the construction of the Silent Dragon. The module should be located in the control room and will be labeled in Mandarin.”
“My Mandarin is extremely limited.”
“I’ll text you the characters that you are looking for. Learn and memorize them.”
“Roger that.”
“With Tristan’s blessing, you will take full command of the habitat. Recovery of the tech is priority one. Is that clear?”
“Affirmative.”
“This is likely our last communication until the storm passes. Tristan has recommended a retraction of the satellite buoy. You’ll be on your own for the next 24 to 48.“ Conroy gave me the coordinates for their estimate of the wreckage. “Good luck, gentlemen.”
Tristan said, “Bring Wong back into the control room. I need to tell him you are now in command.”
“He’s not going to like that,” I muttered.
“I don’t care what he likes. When he builds his own habitat, he can run it how he likes.”
“There’s been a slight complication,” I said.
Tristan looked distressed.
I told him about Judy.
“I’m sorry, but at this point in time, she’s stuck down there. It’s too rough out here for the DSV. We’ll be returning to base after this conversation.”
JD found Wong and brought him back into the compartment. When Tristan told him we were in charge, his face reddened. “You can’t do that!”
Tristan looked at him like he was crazy. "I can do whatever I want. That should be obvious.”
David took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. "I understand that. What I mean is these two deputies, while fine individuals, are not aligned with the objectives of the habitat. They have their own priorities. I believe I'm the best person to lead this mission forward.”
"The mission priorities have changed for the time being.”
Confusion knitted Wong’s brow. "How so?”
"I'm afraid that information is classified and need-to-know only," Officer Conroy said.
“Who are you?” Wong growled.
Conroy gave him a look. “That is none of your concern.”
Wong bit his tongue, but he didn't like it.
"I promise, once this objective is complete, our original mission priorities will resume, and you will regain command of the habitat," Tristan said.
David tried to stifle his frustration. It was the best offer he was going to get.
"At this time, I'm going to recommend you retract the communications buoy to avoid damage," Tristan said. “You’re gonna have to ride the storm out on your own. You've got everything you need. You should be just fine. Hopefully, we can maintain communication via AquaLink.”
"Copy that," Wong said.
"That will be all, Commander Wong," Conroy said. "I need a few more words with the deputies in private."
Wong definitely didn't like playing second fiddle to anyone. With a tight face, he complied and left the compartment, pulling the hatch shut behind him.
"The storm will provide a little added cover for your operation," Conroy said to me. "It might buy you just enough time to complete the mission objective before Chinese operatives reach the site. I will give you a heads up if I can, if we discover any solid intel about their recovery team.”
"What if we should find ourselves in a head-to-head situation with foreign adversaries?” I asked.
This was a delicate situation. The sub was in US waters, but as a warship, it was the sovereign property of the Chinese government. Engaging in direct action could create an international incident.
"I don't need to tell you, gentlemen, that this operation does not exist," Conroy said.
"I don't think the Chinese would be stupid enough to engage Americans within US waters, but I do anticipate they will be sending contractors with plausible deniability, much like we have contracted you. There is a Chinese fishing trawler in the area, and I don’t think they are looking for shrimp.
" Conroy shared a glance with his partner, then continued.
"If you are engaged by hostile actors, respond in kind. Do not compromise mission objectives.”
"Let's hope we get there first," JD said.
"That's the idea. Good luck, gentlemen, and Godspeed."
That was the end of the transmission.
JD and I shared a glance.
"You feel up to this? That was a hell of a swim you had.”
"I don't have much of a choice at this point. I'll be fine.”
JD wasn't sold. My eyes betrayed how tired and drained I was. But being wet, cold, and tired was something you learn to thrive off of in this line of work. There was no alternative.
We left the command center, found Wong, and told him we’d be commandeering one of the mini-subs and would need dive gear and someone to man the umbilicals.
“Hey, it's your show now," he said with a little acid in his voice. “Whatever you need.” Then he added, "I’m retracting the satellite buoy as per Tristan's request. If you need to make any phone calls, do it now."
We didn't have time to chit-chat with anyone at the moment.
JD and I made our way back to our bunks. I had pretty much returned to my baseline temperature. I figured it was safe to take a shower. Too soon after a hypothermic event could cause vasodilation and fainting.
I stayed in the shower long enough to warm up a little, wash the seawater off, and feel a little refreshed. I toweled off, got dressed, then hit the galley and whipped up some dehydrated food to get something in my belly before setting out on a mission.
A text buzzed through on the encrypted app, Memo. [We have Paisley. If you want to see her alive again, you’ll deliver the case to us.]
A proof of life video was attached to the message.
My heart sank.
I pressed play. The camera started close on her terrified face. Bound and gagged, mascara stained her cheeks. In a dark room, a flashlight spotlit her. The perp held today’s paper in front of the lens.
Before I could respond or send the video to Isabella for analysis, cell service went down.