Karyn Kane: Conspiracy of Fire Part 10

"They could be commie pirates," interrupted

Buchanan.

It's a mighty long time since there was a shooting war on the 38th Parallel, so why don't we make nice Buchanan and find out just what the h.e.l.l is going on before we rush to judgment."

"You ask me, we got ourselves a bunch of snakes in a monkey boat."

"What are you talking about Buchanan?"

snapped Kellerman.

"Wonsungi, that is Korean for monkey," said Buchanan. " In Korean culture they figure that there are twelve G.o.ds of the earth and the monkey is one of them."

"Oh, really, Buchanan and since when did you become an authority on multicultural issues?"

snapped Kellerman.

Buchanan didn't even look at her. He just peered out the bridge window looking at the Wonsungi and said, "Since I married myself a Korean chick in Gw.a.n.gju maybe twenty years back-don't get all maudlin on me now Princess- that little liaison didn't last more than eighteen months tops, but that little girl taught me a couple of things, and cooking was only one of them, if you know what I mean."

"You are repulsive Buchanan, you expect me to believe that hogwash story?"

"You can believe what you like Princess, all I am telling you is that monkey's are plenty crafty."

"We should fire a line over there," added Heung "they look like they might need supplies." alvares gave him a hard look. "Get out front with the bull horn Heung and find out what the h.e.l.l is going on with these gentlemen would you? The sooner we can wrap this up and be on our way the better. What are you standing there gaping at me for? Get out there man."

Heung stood back for a l moment then he s.n.a.t.c.hed up the bullhorn and strode outside, an unpleasant look twisting across his face.

"We can a.s.sume he's going to make brusque with this one Captain, " observed Buchanan dryly, "I am betting Heung ain't going to win us any awards for international relations, with that nasty little mouth of his."

"You think you can do better Buchanan?" "Hey, no one's asking me for my help. Far as I'm concerned I am playing the bench until otherwise advised."

Outside, Heung was shouting into the bullhorn, his voice high-pitched and contemptuous, like he was barking orders, rather than making polite enquires. Drawing level, the Nautilus and the Wonsungi, bounced the ocean swell in tandem, their fates drawn together, intertwining, synchronizing a world away from the reason of the civilized world. Here, in the endless swirling ocean, there was no reason beyond the timeless, fathomless fear of a power so overwhelming that it might, at any moment, rise up and consume the whole of mankind.

As the hard wash slapped through the narrowing channel between the two ships, the radio in the Nautilus's bridge crackled to life, a powerful signal breaking through. The voice when it came, was cold and metallic as though it had been generated by a machine-Permission to come aboard Captain.

There was no time to respond.

A rush of electricity filled the air, sending every system in the bridge into overload, white sparks erupted from the junction box, fuses popped like firecrackers and finally, just as suddenly, all was silent once again.

"What the h.e.l.l was that?" whispered Kellerman.

"Sat-nav connections are down," shouted Mooney. Every G.o.dd.a.m.n thing is down, what's going on Captain?"

Captain Pedro alvares stood grey and craggy at his post, absorbing the scene with quiet dignity. "We have got problems sailor, big problems, stand by your post and make ready for orders."

"Those men at the rail Captain..."

"They have guns. I know Kellerman."

"And rocket launchers...Let's gas it out of here, they are pirates..." Kellerman turned, followed the Captain's eyes, saw Heung standing in the doorway, holding a heavy caliber automatic. "You will get on your knees now, all of you. If you follow my orders you will not be harmed. If you attempt any clever tricks you will be executed immediately, do you understand?"

23.

Naval Station Norfolk, North Virginia The Admiral stood easy by the window, clean pressed and immaculate in full dress uniform. The window looked out on a panoramic scene covering four miles of rain swept waterfront, at the very tip of the Hampton Roads Peninsula, North Virginia. This was Naval Station Norfolk, the largest naval station in the world. A sprawling complex of industrial buildings, store-houses and offices, with enough warf-side frontage to accommodate more than 75 of the United States Navy's largest ships. Station Norfolk was a truly awe-inspiring city of war and Admiral William Arthur Kane was master of it all.

Admiral Kane was not the kind of man to lavish affection on anything, least of all friends, or family, not that the Admiral had any family any more. There had been a woman once, a mysterious dark-eyed woman from Puerto Rico, but that had been back in the days when such weaknesses could be explained away as the folly of youth. There was never any chance it would work out. Not a hope in h.e.l.l; nothing good could come from that kind of distraction. Emotional entanglements of any sort would never do. If a man wanted to advance in life, he had to make sacrifices, prioritize the goals of greater good above his own selfish needs. The Admiral had made the right decisions, he was certain of that. No doubt there had been those who had found the decisions painful, the girl and her mother for example. But that could not be helped.

Admiral Kane was a man dedicated to a life of duty. His only goal in life, the unswerving protection of the United States of America and all it stood for.

Now, as he stood by the window drinking in the scene, the Admiral felt ebullient, because there before him, rising thirty stories tall in the ma.s.sive berth directly in front of him, stood the 5 billion dollar Nimitz cla.s.s aircraft carrier USS Dwight D. Eisenhower-100,000 tons of pure bred naval muscle hanging ready to go out into the world and do his bidding. Here was a ship so powerful that it could leave Naval Station Norfolk today and not return to another port anywhere for another 25 years. Powered by two Westinghouse A4W nuclear reactors, this monster could sail the world a hundred times over, seeking out and destroying the enemies of the United States wherever they chose to hide.

There was of course, a reason why the Admiral had chosen to berth the giant aircraft carrier outside his window, over and above his personal attachment to the majestic beauty of this deadly behemoth. This reason was of a deeply personal and sentimental nature. The Admiral's weather-beaten face strained tighter. He turned, arms folded grimly and looked at the portrait of the man who hung on the wall, Dwight D. Eisenhower the 34th President of the United States, an eternal guardian and inspiration, looking out over the Admiral's office towards the gargantuan aircraft carrier that lay beyond. The Admiral allowed himself a smile. Ike was watching, always watching-a great American hero, offering comfort and inspiration. From his position on the wall, Ike could see everything. The Admiral liked that. He felt good knowing that Ike was looking out on his aircraft carrier, forever watchful, a lonely sentinel protecting his domain.

The Admiral sucked in a deep breath of contentment. Next to his love of good scotch whisky, his love of Eisenhower and the ship named after him, was as close to sentimental as he was ever was going to get.

A sharp business-like knock rattled the door breaking the zen-like moment. The Admiral's brow furrowed; he paused momentarily, drinking in another loving gaze of the giant carrier, then bellowed, "Enter, and make quick about it."

The door opened, almost without a noise and Jack Senegar came into the room. Senegar paused, saw the Admiral standing in front of the window and said. "h.e.l.lo Bill. It has been a while."

Senegar surveyed the oak-paneled room.

The place resembled a rather fusty and old- fashioned gentleman's club, with dark leather chairs and a presidential sized antique desk that looked as though it had just been washed ash.o.r.e from the bowels of a pirate galleon. Senegar had visited Naval Station Norfolk, on a number of occasions, and each time he entered the Admiral's oak-paneled lair it seemed to grow ever more imposing.

"Jack Senegar, the very fact that you are dragging yourself down here in your finest DC business suit tells me that once again you have got yourself and your unpleasant little Agency in a mess that you cannot handle." The Admiral turned away from the window then let out a throaty laugh. "So how the devil are you Jack?

"Keeping busy Admiral."

"Of course you are, d.a.m.n you. I haven't heard from you in six-months at least. I a.s.sume you have been faithfully brown-nosing your political masters in a manner that precludes a.s.sociation with your oldest and dearest friends?"

Jack Senegar slid a wooden case onto the Admirals leather-topped desk. "I brought you Scotch, Bill, the 69 Macallan."

"If it you are trying to curry favor with single malt Speyside Scotch Jack, you have obviously come to the right place. Question is-will you be asking the kind of favor I will be willing to grant?"

The Admiral stepped forward now and grasped Jack Senegar's hand in a vise grip, then slapped him heartily on the shoulder, "Have a seat Jack, you look like you could use it. The Admiral moved behind his desk, and lowered himself into a worn looking leather club chair. He regarded Jack steadily, with a dark, unsettling stare. Jack had seen that look before, the same deadly intensity, the same steadfast determination and ruthless will to succeed. There was no doubt about it-Karyn Kane was her father's daughter all right.

"I am working a level-nine operation Bill. So far over the rim, this meeting never happened. You understand me?"

The Admiral sucked air, like he was preparing for an attack then nodded slowly. "Oh, I understand all right Jack. Time was, back in the day, when men of principle could come together, make plans to keep this beautiful country of ours on a path to greatness-but those times are gone now Jack, you of all people should know that."

"I am going to need DEVGRU." The Admiral narrowed his eyes then nodded once again. "If it is the SEALS you are wanting Laddie, you will need a gilt edged executive order, or a fully autographed congressional directive, approved by Special Operations Command. I don't suppose you have either of those things, do you Jack, tucked away in that fancy Brookes Brothers suit you are wearing?"

"I got the green-light from the big man, but there is no paper trail on this one Bill. We need plausible deniability at a level above and beyond anything we have worked before."

"And you are coming to me for this Jack? With all your war on terror dollars, you are coming to me? I cannot say that I am not flattered, because I am-a man of your reputation. But I would have thought that your people were more than adequately prepared for any scenario that might possibly arise to challenge the political and military integrity of this great nation of ours."

"We are working a home game Bill- outside elements are involved, but we have to strangle this one off from the inside."

" Outside elements," thundered the Admiral. "What kind of outside elements?"

A libertarian cadre of industrialists; they call themselves Humanisitans. We have traced their funding to the Chinese. The Humanistians have infiltrated the frame work of Federal government, it is too early to say how deep the rot goes, but my intelligence has revealed a high level of

penetration."

"d.a.m.n communists, we should have taken them out years ago. Those Kimchi munching sons of b.i.t.c.hes are taking over the world on the sly.

Everything you see, every where you look, it's all Chinese, Jack. Is it any wonder the G.o.dd.a.m.n economy is in the tank? Those spineless sea monkeys in Washington are too busy playing nose flute sonatas with chairman Mao's little pals to give a d.a.m.n about America."

Jack Senegar, watched non-committal, as the Admiral bounced his white knuckled fists off the leather desktop. Jack's eyes wandered across the desk and noticed for the first time, that the Admiral had an un-holstered Colt 1911 resting next to his right hand. It appeared to be loaded. At length, as the Admiral's ire subsided, Senegar said quietly, "We have a lead into this nasty little

conspiracy."

"So what are you waiting for man, strike hard and deep-cut to the very heart of the

disease."

Senegar gave the Admiral a tight look, "If only it were that simple. There is political involvement. The governor of Hawaii murdered, along with a prominent senator, the chairman of the Congressional House Committee on Oversight and Government Reform.

"You're talking about that southern-fried son of a b.i.t.c.h Tex Johnston. His greedy little face has been plastered all over the news. You ask me, he looks like just the kind of weasel-faced traitor who'd sell his own mother to those commie-loving

Chinese."

"We believe that the Senator was being subjected to biographical leverage."

"Biographical leverage, Senegar? I understand that is a fancy-suited DC term for good old fashioned blackmail, am I right?"

Senegar gave the Admiral a pained look. He paused, long enough to gather his words and said, "This is an unpleasant business Admiral, there is no-doubt about it. But I am afraid it gets worse, much worse."

"I have sailed the world more times than a Panamanian Tramp steamer. There is nothing that can shock or surprise me anymore, Jack."

"This nest of conspiracy originates from the Island of Oahu, Hawaii. We believe that local law enforcement and elements within the Federal Bureau of Investigation are conspiring with a billionaire Industrialist name of Deng Tao." "Conspiring? To do what exactly?

Overthrow the government-from a picture postcard holiday destination two thousand miles from anywhere? Those Kimchi lovers may think they are plenty smart Senegar, but they haven't got a chance in h.e.l.l of taking over the civilized world from the c.o.c.ktail capital of the South Pacific." The Admiral paused then said, " Wait a hot minute Laddie. The FBI? You wouldn't be trying to suck me into an inter-agency death match would you?

Because the United States Navy punches heavyweight contests only. If you pantywaist pseudo-civilians want to b.i.t.c.h-slap each other in the Washington Mall, I will buy a ticket for ringside, just don't ask me to join the fight card, or the National Security Council will be sending me my early retirement papers faster than you can say congressional inquiry."

"We believe the conspirators are looking to create an event to rival that of 9-11 or Pearl

Harbor."

"Are you trying to tell me those commie sons of b.i.t.c.hes are going to make a move on the Pacific Fleet? They haven't got the cojones comrade.

They even think about making a move on the United States, and we will turn that bicycle peddling commie paradise of theirs into a gla.s.s