CHAPTER 9
Timothy Brandt sat in his office at the Washington Post. Terry Blake, his editor in chief stuck his head in.
“Hey, Tim. Admiral Williams is on the line. He’s asking us to cover an attack by a terrorist ship on an Aswadán military vessel.”
Brandt looked over his glasses at his boss. “Admiral Williams? He wants to talk to me?”
“Well, no.” Blake grinned. “But, we don’t have anyone else here with the experience, so I told him he had to deal with you. I don’t think he was too happy about it. Pick up on line two, will ya?”
“Right.” Brandt reached for the phone.
“Brandt here.”
“Mr. Brandt? This is Admiral Williams of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.”
The guy just loved his title.
“An Aswadán military vessel has been attacked by terrorists. Her captain said they claimed to be survivors of the Evening Star. The Aswadans have requested help and will be pulling into port for repairs. Since you covered the Evening Star sinking, I thought you might want to cover this story.”
“Thank you, Admiral. I thought the government didn’t allow vessels of terrorist countries access to American ports?”
“All ships are welcome in emergency situations. They have suffered damage from the attack, and will be escorted in by a US Coast Guard destroyer.”
“I see. When are they coming into port?”
“Two days, Mr. Brandt. The ship is the SS Targa. I’ll make sure you receive the necessary authorization.”
“Thank you, sir.” Brandt wrote it down. “I appreciate your call, Admiral.”
Brandt sat back and chewed on the tip of his pen after Admiral Williams hung up. He had done research into Williams some years back –during the Contra affair. He had been suspicious then about the admiral’s involvement, but the evidence had been sparse. Men like Admiral Williams were adept at covering their tracks. They controlled a huge beast that ate whatever was thrown in front of it. He wondered what, or whom, the beast was eating now.
Admiral Williams hung up and shook his head. Of all the people he had to get, it had to be Timothy Brandt. He wondered if calling the Washington Post was a mistake. Maybe he should have called one of the other newspapers in Washington. But, none had the coverage that the Washington Post had. It had to be them.
A royal pain, Brandt topped his list of hated reporters. During the Vietnam War, when Williams was a Rear Admiral, Brandt had served as war correspondent on the USS Forrestal. He liked the Vietnamese people, and reported more often about their problems than about the military situation. Smart alec thought he knew everything about world affairs.
During the Contra affair, Brandt had done his best to incriminate Admiral Williams and several other military officers. He cared nothing about the interests of the United States of America –only about selling newspapers.
Now he had to deal with the nosy, prying SOB again. Irritating.
AUGUST 14TH –DAY 134
They had been lost since May first, almost three and a half months. Now they were close to home. The excitement was palpable.
All systems were set on automatic so everyone could attend the meeting. Matthew had given each duty shift the responsibility for the status report. The second shift was on duty. Helen, who was on navigation, started off the meeting with her report.
“Our course is three-four-zero. We’re about fifteen hundred miles from New York. That’s about five or six days at our present speed of twelve knots.”
“Thank you,” said Matthew. “What’s radar and sonar status?”
“Diagnostic checks show no problems, Captain,” answered Jo Ann.
Matthew turned to Steve. “Ship’s systems?”
“All systems are go. Engine room looks good. We’ve got about fifty days’ fuel left at our present consumption rate.”
“Great.” Matthew gazed over the group. “The next few days are going to be busy. We can’t take the chance of pulling into a port without some kind of protection. So, we’re going to find a cruise ship, that we can follow in. That way we’ll have witnesses to our homecoming. It should keep the dogs off us –for a while anyway.”
“What do you think they’ll do?”
“The CIA or the FBI will most likely get involved and try to keep it under wraps. It would be very embarrassing if this got out. Ron and I are subject to the military authorities, so they’ll probably muzzle us. It may be up to you to reveal the story. The more we go public, the better our chances of getting home quickly.”
Jeff brought up the interminable question: “What about the weapons?”
“Any ideas about this?” Matthew asked. “Let’s get it settled once and for all.”
Dave spoke up. “I think Ron is right. We might need them to deal with. Besides, I feel safer with them on the ship until we get home.”
“Anyone else?” No one spoke, so Matthew continued. “Okay. Then let’s vote on it. All those in favor of keeping the weapons on the ship until we get to port, raise your hands.”
Several hands went into the air. “Opposed?” All hands went down.
“It’s final then. The weapons stay on the ship.”
He glanced in Su Li’s direction and wondered if she had changed her mind about the assignments. She looked him straight in the eyes. Nope, she hadn’t. He had a smirk on his face as he asked the inevitable question. “Does anyone have anything else?”
Su Li waited. When no one spoke, she stood up. “I would like to change the General Quarters duty list. We set it up so families could be together when they are on duty. I did not like it in the dining hall when my husband was on the bridge.”
Jeff responded first. “Jo Ann was in the dining room with you while Steve was on the bridge. What if she wanted to come to the bridge too?”
“Then she should have been allowed. All families should be together during emergencies.
“There would have been eight people on the bridge. That’s too many.”
“That is not true. Steve went up to the bridge to replace Ron. You sent Ron and Jeff out. Someone else should have taken Jeff’s place at radar.”
“We were in a close battle,” Matthew said. “Radar was unnecessary.”
“What if another ship came? Would you have seen it?” She had them there.
“No, but you couldn’t have helped. You’ve never been on radar before.”
“Then I will learn. There is room on the bridge for others. Since I can do nothing in the galley, I may be able to help on the bridge, and I would at least be with my husband. You have to be on the bridge during all emergencies. I should have the right to be with you during all emergencies.”
Matthew looked at the others. “Anyone else?”
“Isn’t this between you and Su Li?” asked Jessica.
“No, this is a matter for all of us. It involves other people. I would have preferred her on the bridge, but it wasn’t practical. She might have been in the way. Shirley was manning navigation.”
“Why don’t we try to set up new watches, and see if we can’t work it out?” Jeff suggested.
“We’re not gonna avoid the situation, regardless of what we do,” stated Ron. “Why not keep the watches as they are and try a couple of GQ drills. Those who have someone on the bridge can make that decision themselves. We should find out pretty quick if it’ll work or not.”
“Great,” decided Matthew. “All in favor?” It was carried. Another problem solved for the time being. He hoped there would be no more emergencies.
AUGUST 15TH –DAY 135
The Bright Moon was three days out of New York City, a thousand miles off the coast. All they had to do now was find a cruise ship heading toward the US coastline.
That meant a lot of sailing back and forth. They had to check out every ship. Matthew left it up to the shift on duty to make the calls. The navigator plotted the course and called the shots. They learned quickly how to judge the size of the ship by its signature, the shadow it showed on the radar screen. I
ts shadow corresponded with its size.
When a ship showed up on radar, they set course to pass about a thousand yards alongside the ship, going the opposite direction, so they could get a look at it. Not finding it to be a cruise ship, they turned back toward the coast and started over. Still nervous after their encounter with the Targa, they kept radio silence. They would hail the right ship when they found it.
The practice was as good as drilling, to which Matthew had called a halt. No one would dare attack them in the main shipping lanes.
AUGUST 16TH –DAY 136
TERRORIST ATTACK ON THE HIGH SEAS. UNPROVOKED ATTACK ON ASWADÁN SHIP! The terrorists had lured the Aswadán vessel with the claim that they were survivors of the Evening Star that had sunk off the coast of Africa almost four months before; and then had fired.
The Coast Guard allowed Brandt aboard the Targa.
“Unprovoked attack,” the captain said repeatedly. “Their captain said he was a survivor from Evening Star and wanted help. We came alongside her and she shot at us. We almost beat her, but she shot the ship’s rudder. Unprovoked. We did nothing. She just shot.”
Brandt wasn’t sure he believed him, but the damage to the ship was obvious. “How did you escape?”
“We fought back and scared him off. We have a good fighting ship.”
“Who was the captain?”
“Do not know. He did not say.”
“Did you get the name of the ship?”
“Bright Moon. He said ‘Bright Moon’ they shot us. We did nothing. Unprovoked,” Brandt heard for the umpteenth time.
In bed later that evening, Brandt read an interview of Admiral Williams by one of his colleagues in the New York Times.
“Listen to this, Leila. The reporter quotes Admiral Williams. ‘We cannot allow terrorist activities to threaten safety on the high seas. We will get the terrorists who damaged the SS Targa.’”
“My goodness. They’re terrorists themselves. And they whine like little babies when their ship is shot at. Do you think they’re innocent victims?”
“I doubt it. I’ll bet anything that they were attacking the other ship. I’m surprised Admiral Williams is sticking his nose into this. I can see letting them come into port for repairs, but helping them find the ship that attacked them? Something’s wrong there. There’s gotta be something in it for him.” He thought for a moment. “I wonder who they are. What’d they call the ship, Bright Moon?”
“Yeah.” Leila saw the look on her husband’s face. “I know; I know. Find out everything I can about the Bright Moon.”
“You’re pretty smart. I might keep you.”
She hit him with the pillow.
Ming Lau Tsien read the newspaper article once more. “Is the captain of the SS Targa telling the truth? Or is it possible that there really are survivors from the Evening Star?”
Chin Lee Tong shrugged at his brother-in-law and longtime friend. They had been together since young men in China and had endured many trials together. “We have to investigate it,” he said with a sigh.
Ming Lau grimaced. “Maybe we should start with the Bright Moon and see what we can find out about her.” His brother-in-law nodded.
AUGUST 17TH –DAY 137
Leila Brandt entered the office. Tim ceased his furious typing long enough to look up at her. His wife was an expert at research. When it came to digging up information, she knew every nook and cranny to look in.
“What did you find?” he asked.
“The Bright Moon is a small freighter built just a few years ago, registered to a shipyard in Dakar. How can a freighter totally outclass a military ship, and disable her? That doesn’t sound like a freighter.”
“No. It doesn’t. I wonder why they didn’t sink the Targa when they had the chance. What else did you get?”
“Nothing. She just disappeared. I talked to someone at the shipyard who spoke English. None of the management remembers her. They build so many freighters that one is the same as the other, but they’re convinced she must be a freighter. They don’t build anything else.”
Brandt leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Dead end.”
“Not exactly. The person I talked to wanted to know why we were so interested in the ship. I told him that she was involved in terrorist activities, and we were looking for information about her.”
Leila paused to get his full attention. “Then he told me that I was the second person to call him that day.”
“Oh?” Tim sat upright in his chair. “Someone else is interested in the Bright Moon?”
“It appears so.”
“Hmm –Another reporter?”
“I don’t know. The man didn’t give his name.” Her voice, though quiet, carried a tone of excitement. “But he was interested in what type of ship the Bright Moon was, and how she could have the maneuverability to overpower a military ship.”
“So, someone else is suspicious.” Brandt paused. “A freighter that may not be a freighter, attacks an Aswadán military vessel. Why ?”