Thunder in the Morning Calm (26 page)

“Probably a good idea to get the night-vision goggles out too,” Jung-Hoon added.

“They’re in the backpacks in the back of the boat,” Jackrabbit said. “I’ll get the guns ready.”

NKN Frigate
Najin
the Sea of Japan

P
etty Officer Cheong Tae-hee stood at the ship’s bow, watching the sea with his binoculars. Just to his right, his assistant, Junior Petty Officer Kim Won-tu, manned the high-power spotlight. Nothing, other than rolling seas, had yet come into their view.

“This is the captain speaking!” The voice boomed in Korean all over the
Najin
’s intercom system. “We are now approaching the GPS coordinates where the radar blip was last spotted. Be alert. We will remain at this location as we search. Assume that whatever we spotted represents interests hostile to the Democratic People’s Republic and to Dear Leader. Forward watch station. Arm machine guns. Be prepared to fire upon my order.”

The captain’s voice sent chills down Cheong’s spine. “Be prepared to fire.” He lowered his binoculars and rushed to the forward machine gun station.

The mounted weapon for close-range attacks on smaller vessels was the Soviet-manufactured NSV machine gun. Named for its Soviet designer, the late Nikitna Sokolova-Volkova, the machine gun sported a five-foot-long barrel, fired 800 rounds of 12.7mm cartridges in belts containing fifty rounds each, and had the flexibility to be mounted anywhere on the ship. In this case, the Navy of the Democratic People’s Republic had mounted the NSV at the bow of its flagship frigate.

Cheong had taken target practice on the gun last week, and with
the captain and the first officer watching over his shoulder, he busted plastic floating targets out of the water at a range of at least two hundred and fifty yards. Even the captain had mentioned his proficiency with the gun and had bragged that Cheong was the best machine gunner in the Navy. Carefully, Cheong threaded the first fifty-round belt into the gun.

If anyone was out there and if he was ordered to fire, the single fifty-round belt should be more than enough to get the job done. There. The belt was threaded. Ready to fire when ordered.

“Petty Officer Cheong! I see something!” Junior Petty Officer Kim Won-tu yelled as he pointed frantically.

“What?” Cheong sprinted back across the fifteen-foot deck space between the machine gun and the forward searchlight.

“A boat! A small boat! It has men in it! They appear to be armed!”

Zodiac boat

T
hey’ve spotted us.” Jackrabbit held his hand up to block the blinding searchlight from his eyes. “Jung-Hoon, I know we don’t have much gas to burn, but my guess is that they’ll send a boarding party out to grab us. When I tell you to crank that motor, do it and get us the heck out from under that light. Got it?” “Got it.”

NKN Frigate
Najin

P
etty Officer Cheong Tae-hee held the binoculars to his eyes and watched the small black boat about two hundred yards off the ship’s port bow. Three men, dressed in black, wearing black scuba gear and holding guns, were crouched low in the boat.

Navy SEALs. There was no other explanation, he decided. The United States must have dropped them out in parachutes from a stealth bomber, which would account for the fact that no aircraft had been detected inbound. And then, when they parachuted down, the parachutes were picked up on radar. Yes, this would explain it.

Cheong could not contain himself! He picked up the forward-deck telephone with a direct connection to the bridge. His hand shook with excitement as he punched the button alerting the bridge.

“Bridge! Forward lookout.”

“This is the bridge. Go ahead, Petty Officer.”

“Sir! We have discovered a small craft in the water. Approximately two hundred yards off the port bow. The craft is manned with three individuals in scuba gear. Believed to be armed US Navy SEALs, sir!”

“Very well, Petty Officer. Keep them in your sights and await further instructions.”

“Yes, Captain,” Cheong said.

“We see the boat from here. Good work, Petty Officer. We are sending a boarding team to bring them in. Keep the spotlight on them and cover the boarding party until the SEALs are taken into custody. Do you understand your instructions?”

“Understood, sir!”

“Now hear this! This is the captain speaking! All members of the marine boarding party, report to debarkation station. Repeat, all members of the marine boarding party, report to debarkation station.

“Forward watch has spotted an unidentified small craft approximately two hundred yards off our port bow. The craft is manned and believed to be armed and hostile to the Democratic People’s Republic. The craft could be manned by US Navy SEALs.

“Battle stations! Battle stations!”

Zodiac boat

D
ing-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding.
The shrill sound of alarm bells from the ship clanged. With the searchlight blinding their eyes, they heard authoritarian voices from the ship’s loudspeaker bellowing across the water.

“What are they saying?” Gunner asked.

“I heard the captain say that they are going to battle stations,” Jung-Hoon said. “They think that we are Navy SEALs.”

“Navy SEALs. Sheesh,” Jackrabbit said mockingly. “Paranoid Communists will believe anything.”

“I’ve got a feeling we could use some Navy SEALs right now,” Gunner said.

“You got retired US Army Special Forces protecting you, Commander,” Jackrabbit said. “You’re in good hands! You don’t need Navy SEALs!”

Gunner shook his head. “Jackrabbit, you’re crazy.”

“I decided a long time ago,” Jackrabbit said, still holding his hands up to block the glare from the spotlight, “that crazy is the only way to live, and crazy is the only way to die.”

“Attention. You on the boat! Attention! We see you, and we know who you are …” The ship’s loudspeaker thundered out over the water.

“I think it’s about time to crank that motor, Jung-Hoon,” Jackrabbit said.

“Got it,” Jung-Hoon said.

Vroooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmm.
The outboard ignited like a dried-out Christmas tree lit up by a blow torch.

The ship’s loudspeaker boomed across the water again. “You have violated the territorial waters of the Democratic People’s Republic. You are now in the custody of the Navy of the Democratic People’s Republic.”

“Like heck we are,” Jackrabbit muttered.

The announcement switched back and forth from Korean to English. “In a few moments you will be boarded by Marines of the Democratic People’s Republic. You shall surrender, and you shall transfer to our boat for transportation back to the ship. If you do not cooperate, you will be shot.”

A moment later, the sound of another outboard ripped across the water. Out of the shadows of the blinding light, the smaller craft came into view, cutting its way across the water from the ship.

The small craft had six men aboard, all armed with rifles. It pulled to within one hundred feet of the Zodiac and slowed. “You will now raise your hands in the air.”

“Got your rifle ready, Commander?” At this point, Jackrabbit, who sat in the center of the Zodiac boat, had taken
de facto
control of the mission. Gunner, crouched in the front of the boat, was fine with Jackrabbit assuming command.

“Got it right here, Jackrabbit.”

“Can you boys from Virginia shoot some turkey?”

“Between the eyes at a hundred yards,” Gunner said.

USS
Boise
depth 100 feet in the Sea of Japan

S
kipper, the target has stopped. Plus this flash message just came in from CINCPAC. I think you’ll find it interesting.”

“Very well. All stop!”

“All stop. Aye, sir.”

“Hand me that message.”

Commander Hardison, a blond and blue-eyed officer who had almost an Aryan look about him, unfolded the message.

“XO. Mister COB,” Hardison said to the sub’s executive officer and the senior enlisted sailor, known as the chief of the boat, “why don’t the two of you join me for the reading of this fine message.”

Hardison unfolded the orders and spread the paper on the table.

“Man,” Hardison said, “I’ve never gotten an order directly from the National Command Authority before.”

“That means this order is straight from the president, sir,” the XO said.

“That’s exactly what it means, XO,” Hardison said. “Very well. Helmsman, all ahead one-third. Swing us out to a ninety-degree angle for a broadside torpedo launch. Set us five hundred yards from target.”

“Aye, sir. All ahead one-third, swinging for broadside launch at five hundred yards.”

“Fire control, serve me up two Mark 48 torps. One in tube one, the other in tube three.”

“Aye, Skipper,” the fire control officer said. “Arming tubes one and three.”

“XO, sound general quarters.”

“Aye, Skipper. Sounding general quarters.” The XO picked up the ship’s microphone system. “General quarters! General quarters! This is not a drill.” Bells clanged all over the sub. “General quarters! General quarters!”

Hardison smiled. “Looks like the president wants a little post-Thanksgiving turkey shoot.”

Zodiac boat

T
he black, piercing eyes of the enemy sparkled through the lens of Gunner’s binoculars. There were six of them — North Korean Marines with rifles in dark blue and black uniforms. They sat in a whipping wind in three rows of two in the white North Korean navy launch, which was now inside the perimeter of the beam of the bright spotlight surrounding the Zodiac. The Korean boat chugged toward the Zodiac boat, closing to less than twenty-five feet. Their rifles were pointed at the three men in the Zodiac. One of the sailors in the launch started barking instructions in broken English through a bullhorn.

Gunner and Jackrabbit were on their knees in the front and center of the fifteen-foot Zodiac. Jung-Hoon crouched on his knees in the back, his hands on the throttle of the running outboard. “Prepare to be boarded! Put your hands in the air!” the voice cracked over the bullhorn.

“I think they want us to put our hands up,” Gunner said.

“Not … quite … yet,” Jackrabbit said.

Whatever game of Russian roulette Jackrabbit was playing, it was getting too hot for Gunner.

“We will drift in closer and throw you a line.” The voice from the bullhorn. “You. In the front of the boat. You will catch the line, and we will pull your boat in close to ours. If you do not cooperate, you will be shot.”

“I think he’s talking to me,” Gunner said. “Sounds like a friendly guy.”

“Okay, listen up,” Jackrabbit said. “When I say
now
, Commander, drop to the bottom of the boat. I’ll do the same. Hopefully, between that and these swells, it won’t be a turkey shoot for ‘em.”

“You! In the boat! Put your hands up and prepare to receive the line!”

“Let’s get our hands up to play along. Jung-Hoon, don’t get your hands too far away from that motor.”

“Got it.”

Gunner raised both of his hands in the air. He looked around and saw that Jackrabbit had done the same. Except that Jackrabbit was also flashing a cheesy grin right at the North Koreans. “Jung-Hoon,” Jackrabbit said, “when I give the word, crank the throttle as hard as you can and stay down. Commander, as soon as I say ‘Fire,’ come up shootin’. We’ll be moving and we’ve got these swells to contend with, so the shots won’t be easy, but be accurate. We need to take these guys out.”

The North Korean launch inched closer and started turning in the water. “We are about to throw you a line. Prepare to receive line.”

“Hey, Jackrabbit, if we shake these guys in this boat, what about that ship over there?”

“One problem at a time, Commander.”

“Got it.”

The North Korean launch was now cutting through the swells, chugging toward the Zodiac. A sailor stood in the bow with a looped line, preparing to throw it. The sailor with the bullhorn stood beside him, aiming the bullhorn directly at Gunner.

“Get ready, boys,” Jackrabbit said.

“We will now throw you the line!”

“Now!” Jackrabbit shouted just as the North Korean Marine slung the line toward Gunner.

The outboard revved and the Zodiac jumped. Gunner fell back onto the floor of the boat. He felt the boat turn and lunge forward. He heard an immediate torrent of angry Korean words blaring over the bullhorn.

Pow-pow-pow-pow-pow-pow-pow.
Rifle fire cracked the night air. Whizzing bullets flew inches over the top of the boat, just as the glare of the bright spotlight turned into darkness.

Gunner felt the boat turning in the water and then slowing almost to a drift.