Attack of the Seawolf

“Up scope.” Pacino rotated the hydraulic control ring in the overhead, the ring clunked into the UP position and the stainless-steel pole climbed out of the well, the large optic control module finally coming up and stopping. Pacino stepped up to the module, lifted off his eyepatch, snapped down the periscope grips and put his eye to the cold rubber of the eyepiece.

Even in low power the adjacent pier looked dangerously close. The supertanker berth was empty, but the bollards and cleats for tying up ships seemed so close he could reach out and touch them. A lone sentry in the distance was walking toward him down the pier.

Otherwise, the supertanker pier was dead.

Pacino scanned the sky to find the moon. The night seemed cloudy and overcast but the moon peeked out of openings in the heavy clouds to the south, opposite the direction of the P.L.A piers. Not good — moonlight could shimmer on the water, silhouetting the scope and giving him away. He turned the scope view to the P.L.A piers two hundred yards to the north. He could see the inboard Udaloy, the outboard Luda and the seaward-side Jianghu tied up at the pier — but no sign of the Tampa. He clicked the view to high power, magnifying the view by twenty-five times, and made out a black square-shape in the water against the flank of the inboard destroyer Udaloy. The shape could possibly be the Tampa’s rudder.

He pulled a trigger on the right periscope grip and magnification changed from 25x to 50x, bringing the Udaloy’s hull so close that he could see two P.L.A sailors leaning on the railing smoking. For a moment he kept the two men in the view, the periscope reticle filled with the forms of the midnight watch-standers.

They were looking down toward the water. Now one of them tossed his butt into the water and walked on.

Then the second one followed. Pacino brought the view down. There at the waterline was the black shape. He could make out the draft markings on the rudder, even the running light on top, the light off, the glass of the bulb cracked. No doubt now that it was the Tampa.

Pacino did a rapid low-power periscope search, scanning the horizon for approaching contacts or aircraft, then checked the supertanker-pier one last time.

As he was about to lower the scope he stopped. There had been something odd on the pier between the inboard destroyer and the end frigate. He returned the periscope to the Tampa’s rudder, rotated it to the right so that his view was between the destroyer and frigate, then switched to high power and hit the doubler trigger.

Buses. School buses. Two of them he could make out, with the possibility of a third in between. Buses suitable for removing the crew of a submarine, Pacino thought. The vehicles were dark and unmoving. Perhaps they were there for taking the crew off later, or had something to do with the surface warships. Whatever, it was not a good sign. Pacino shifted back to low power, again checked the sentry on the supertanker-piers and lowered the scope.

“Periscope exposure, eighty-four seconds, Cap’n,” Turner reported. Not good, Pacino thought. Too long.

Periscope exposure begged for detection.

“Attention in the firecontrol team,” Pacino said.

“I observed the two destroyers on either side of Friendly One as well as the frigate aft on the seaward side of the pier. I confirm the presence of Friendly One as a submarine. In addition, there were buses on the pier, not sure why. In the next twenty minutes the SEAL team will lockout and commence the operation. Carry on.”

He then phoned Morris.

“You have permission to lockout and commence the operation.” He was intentionally formal with Morris.

“Be advised we’ve sighted several buses on the pier. The Tampa crew may or may not be in the process of being removed. Watch the pier for buses — if they start an off load open fire on the pier guards — we can’t allow a crew off load I’ll back you up with the Javelins.”

“We’ll play it by ear.”

“Be careful.”

“Don’t you worry about us. Captain. Just you be there when we need you.”

CHAPTER 16 SUNDAY, 12, MAY 1728 GREENWICH MEAN TIME

GO HAD BAY POINT HOTEL, XLNGANG HARBOR

USS SEAWOLF

0128 BEIJING TIME

The upper level passageway near the hatch to the escape trunk was crowded with men and equipment.

Commander Kurt Lennox stood aft of the tall pile of clutter, heart pounding. He mistrusted his voice. When one of the SEAL operators asked if he was okay he nodded, trying to look it.

Lennox was fitted with full SEAL combat gear, not that he would use it, but rather he was functioning as a mule to carry spares for the commandos. Morris had insisted on it, saying contemptuously, “ain’t nobody goes on a SEAL OP without carrying their weight.”

And weight he carried, perhaps a hundred pounds of it. He had on a black coverall with a heavy combat vest whose waterproof utility pocket contained a Heretta 9-mm model 92 automatic pistol with a loaded clip of hollow-point ammunition plus five spare clips.