AK 239: The Enemy Is Already Here

“Ya, but this is Alaska. Things are a bit more casual up here. People go away for weeks. Our best chance is with that SAT phone.”

I think for a minute, “You told the harbor master where we are, right?”

“This is Ketchikan and we’re the FBI. I didn’t tell anyone anything,” says Jennifer.

“Well only three things can happen here.”

“One: We die.”

“Two: We’re captured.”

“Three: We escape!”

“I prefer option number three!”

Jennifer, “Oh you might escape. I’ll be dead by morning.”

I look at her body that is now partially uncovered by moss.

“Don’t touch the moss. Find your own moss.”

I take off my shirt and pull a big chunk of moss off the inside of the tree.

I really am cold.

I start to shiver.

“All right, come over here but you try anything, I’ll put a bullet in you.”

I sarcastically say, “What do I gotta lose, we’ll be dead by morning.”

National Security Agency (NSA)

Fort Meade, MD

^{Christmas Eve}

Fred is comfortably eating his tuna fish sandwich, again, as he carefully reviews his screen.

“Jerry come here.”

Jerry walks over.

“What is it now?”

“TK-20 looks now to be half apart with its nuclear reactor missing.”

“I thought we decided that wasn’t TK-20,” says Jerry.

“No, I think it is. They had just dismantled so much then pulled it into that new covered dry dock to take out the reactor. By the time they pulled it back here we thought it was another sub.”

“So what d’ya want from me?”

“I enlarged the SAT images as much as possible. COMINT gave me the an old KH-11 satellite and I can’t make the image resolution clearer but does that look like a Typhoon class sub tail sticking out of that covered port to you?”

Jerry can clearly see TK-20’s tail sticking out of a covered port but they can’t see anything else.

“Ya, looks like it. But see here the tail on the sub is missing, so it’s right there.”

“Does that make sense to you? How is just the tail in the water floating?”

“You’re the expert. I’m just the tech guy,” says Jerry as he eyes Fred’s half eaten tuna fish sandwich. Without another thought and while not looking at Jerry, Fred simply hands Jerry his sandwich as they both continue to gaze at the blurry images.

Jerry finally stands up saying, “Oh well, it’s Christmas Eve. What ya say we go home?”

Fred checks his government issued plastic watch he got at his twenty-year anniversary, “Jeez, I didn’t realize it was that late. I probably should pull from some other sats.”

“Have fun,” says Jerry as he stands to leave.

“I’m going home. Merry Christmas, Fred!”

Jerry leaves.

Not wanting to be the only idiot in the office on Christmas Eve, Fred collects his things, pauses one more time to take a long look at his computer, then leaves his tiny little cubicle.

USS Alaska

Arctic Ocean

^{Tom Watson’s Diary}

^{Christmas Morning}

Tom Watson,

Chief Communications Officer’s Log,

USS Alaska

08:00

What I’m about to do I really, really do not want to do.

As I walk down the hall of the USS Alaska, the commander’s door seemed fifty feet tall.

I didn’t want to knock.

Maybe I’ll just go back to my bunk.

Let someone else worry about this.

I turned around and started to walk away and then stopped again.

Nope! This will bother me until I do it.

I’m already in trouble.

I alerted Admiral Baker of the 7^th Fleet.

Even though I haven’t heard back, I knew it was only a matter of time before my commander got wind of this.

I knock on the commander’s door.

I knew this would be an awkward conversation at best.

This idiot, the second dumbest man on the boat, replaced my old girlfriend, Commander Jennifer Tavana.

“Come in,” answers Lieutenant Commander Bert Parks.

His name always reminded me of a game show host!

He’s a bald, short, stupid looking little wisp of a man that had waited forever to get his own sub.

He always tried to sabotage Jennifer and me when he was second in command. “Little Bert” was vindictive and cattier than any woman I had ever met. His nickname, that he made up for himself, he thought was cool was: Bert, ‘P’ man, Parks.

(Don’t ask how he devised that nickname.)

That gives you the idea of the brains on this guy.

We avoided each other like the plague ever since Jennifer was made commander of the sub.

Bert is sitting, working at his desk. He sees me standing in his door and cannot look me in the eye. Bert continues to pretend he’s doing paperwork.

“What is it?” Bert asks.

“Sorry to bother you, sir, but have you seen the AOAIA report from Bob outlining the anomalies we’ve heard?”

Bert is barely paying attention and answers in the affirmative a faint,

“Uh huh.”

“And what were your conclusions?”

Bert looks up clearly not knowing he what he’s talking about but pretending so as to get rid of me.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re taking a look.”

I don’t believe him.

“Have you heard from ASWOC in San Diego about this?” I ask.

“Why would I bother them?” asks Bert.