AK 239: The Enemy Is Already Here

The Iranian sub and the two commercial fishing trawlers, King of The Crabs and The Cod-Father, have pulled up to the moonlit dock of Kendrick Bay. Inside the bridge of the trawler the Iranians are clearly in charge. Their guns are still trained on the Russians.

The Russian Special Forces Commander Orlav is on a 512k encrypted satellite phone and says,

“My general wants to speak with you.” Orlav hands the phone to Iranian General Bahadur.

General Victor Zelin is in no mood for these two bit terrorists trying to cross him.

“Here is what you will do. You will stick to the plan. Take your men and their brides to America and leave this area. The FBI is enroute.”

“I am coming in to speak with you personally,” says General Bahadur.

“That is not possible.”

“Then we will kill your men one at a time.”

“What do you want?”

“I want my people to be able to detonate these weapons.”

“This was never agreed to. We must wait to see what the Americans will do.”

An Iranian grabs a GRU soldier and shoots him in the head. The Russian soldier falls to the ground with the mortal wound spraying blood out the far side of his head. Another Iranian grabs a second Russian soldier and says tell your general what happened.

The soldier refuses so the second Russian is shot as well.

Bokan Mountain

Russian Command & Control Center

Moscow automatically puts up on his large screen a series of 20 numbers and letters.

The digits fly by until all 20 become locked.

The largest screen turns red and a ten second countdown begins.

Even General Zellin, who’s a tough general who looks like he would kill his mother if ordered, looks a bit pale and horrified.

Since President Mironovich has taken total control, the general would be helpless to stop this countdown anyway.

Zayas Island, Canada

Iranian Fishing Boat

One of those rubber boats with a terrorist and a beautiful Russian woman, sit, while looking lovingly into each other’s eyes. One of those suitcases begins peeping. She jumps into the ocean as her Iranian “husband” fires shots at the water where she jumped. He looks at the beeping suitcase and tries to open it. It’s locked.

Small Boat

^{Seven miles due East}

A couple of Canadian teens are in their parent’s pleasure boat. They are kissing on the back of the boat when a small nuclear mushroom cloud takes out the Iranian rubber boat with the nuclear suitcase.

This looks to be several miles away from them.

Spherical ripples rush across the water and an orange cloud lights up the night sky. The two lovers look at each other and simultaneously say,

“Cool!”

They go back to kissing.

Bokan Mountain

Russian Command & Control Center

Meanwhile, back in the control room the general punches up on his large screen indicators showing that the suitcases are being dispersed far away from the fishing trawlers where they were supposed to explode. The remaining rubber boats with nukes are going in several different directions.

“President Mironovich, are you seeing what I am seeing?” asks General Zelin.

There is no answer from the President’s office.

Ketchikan Police Plane

Kendrick Bay

Diary of Robert Stone

^{Christmas Day}

We’re looking for a place in Kendrick Bay to set this “miracle of aviation” down. At this time, I was completely unaware of what we’re flying into.

Considering this is night and there are no proper instruments aboard this piece of junk, this is beyond stupid. We were also unaware that a nuclear device just went off just a few miles behind us.

“Let’s take a look at those boats at the dock,” I said.

The pilot, Jimmy Thomas, “All right, we’re goin’ in!”

As the plane dives, I look at Jimmy who looks to be the “Red Baron” on a low level strafing mission from World War I,

I’d laugh if I weren’t probably gonna die! I think to myself.

At the last minute, just before we fly over, I now clearly see the two trawlers. The Iranian sub must’ve been sitting silently in front of them but, in the dark, its black hull was impossible to see.

Automatic gunfire erupts from the bridge of King of the Crabs and hits our prop and windshield.

Jimmy accelerates to pull up and fly ‘Kitty Hawk’ over the gunfire saying,

“Aw hell!”

As the plane flies over the trawler, I open my door and with my trusty old Colt .45 revolver I empty my six-shooter in their direction.

Shit, piss, cock suck… mother fuck! Call the Eskimo!”

“I’m the Eskimo.”

The other Eskimo, your big dummy brother!”

“Oh.”

I get on the two-way radio to Yura saying, “I’ve got unidentifieds firing full autos at us,”

“Dad! Calm down!”

I now quiet down and think before saying, “Everybody okay?”

Jimmy and Tony, both in shock, nod in the affirmative, a little.

I’m on the two-way again with the wife,

“Get everyone with everything we got over here right now! Did you get SERT on the phone?”