Part 26 (2/2)
”How many do you estimate are down there now?”
”By my figures, there are likely at least two hundred, and that number would be much higher if not for the mandatory firearms regulation. I think the number of undead belowdecks will remain flat. As the survivors below neutralize more creatures, more will likely become infected in the process. The only number that will fall is that of the remaining living.”
Admiral Goettleman peered out at his panoramic view of the flight deck below. A large refugee camp formed, sprawling throughout the four and a half acres of steel and nonskid. As a contingency plan formed in his head, the admiral began to plan the how of his next move. First priority would be to retake the communications rooms; second, they would need to find a suitable port. He couldn't risk losing control of the reactor areas to the undead while at sea. It would render the carrier nothing short of drifting hurricane bait. He grabbed the phone and dialed the pilot house above.
”Slight course adjustment, OOD. Make your course for Key West specifically and mind your draft.”
”Very good, Admiral,” the OOD replied on the other end.
After hearing the orders given to the bridge, Joe asked, ”Would you care to walk me through your thought process, sir? I don't follow.”
”I intend to make port at Key West and prepare for a worst-case scenario. If we lose too many personnel, we can't keep this s.h.i.+p running. If that happens, I'd like to be tied up to an island, a place we can clear out and defend. Key West has a naval air station. We can blow the bridges and isolate. Any word on Phoenix and the recovered black box?”
”Our programmers were attempting to compile the software to pull the GPS coordinates from the box when they lost control of our network. They say that someone attempted to gain access and alter the software. The intrusion only lasted four minutes. The strange thing is, the program was already complete when our people rebooted the s.h.i.+p's servers and tried to compile it. They didn't have time to go line by line to verify the code, so they transmitted the software to Hotel 23. Task Force Phoenix is not due back off mission for a few hours and we won't know of their success until we reestablish comms.”
”That's a priority, Joe. I want the first teams retaking the radio areas. We can worry about who tried to hack us at another time. h.e.l.l, it could be the Chinese version of our CYBERCOM. Virginia should be in the Bohai soon-if not now. Hourgla.s.s will be feet dry in what was communist China shortly. La.r.s.en and his folks are likely very interested in what is happening here.”
”Yes, sir, the marines will attempt to secure the communications room up forward first. After secured we'll get the comms back up with Phoenix and hopefully Hourgla.s.s.”
”What of the outpost?”
”They have not responded to our comm checks in a few cycles. Probably atmospherics.”
”Probably.” Goettleman again looked out over the camps forming below. ”Dammit. We'll need to post snipers up here on Vulture's Row, overlooking the camps. Any sign of outbreak and we take the shot.”
”Yes, sir.” Joe paused for a moment, ensuring that no one would overhear him. ”Sir, we're not going to make it.”
”No, probably not. But I've never given up on a d.a.m.n thing in my life. I won't stop fighting until I'm one of them, or I'm rotting in the ground with a hole in my head. You graduated the farm, and know better. We'll fight from lifeboats with our bare hands if need be.”
51.
Chinese Waters ”Chief of the Boat, periscope depth,” La.r.s.en commanded.
”Aye, aye, Captain.”
After the order was relayed to the helmsman, the boat began its journey to an area just below the surface of the Bohai waters. The periscope was raised, cutting above and through the blue-green waters of the surface. Virginia's advanced sensors had shown no evidence of any surviving Chinese military power. If remnants of the Sino military remained, they would likely be in the same condition as the U.S. military-spread thin, nearly extinct. Commie monitored the RF spectrum; the only Chinese transmission he intercepted was Beijing International's Automated Terminal Information Service. Commie determined that parts of the airport must have been on sustainable power for the transmission to remain active. He kept tuning frequencies-”spinning and grinning” the RF spectrum, self-protecting the submarine, and attempting to gather any shred of intelligence that might a.s.sist the mission.
Peering through the closed-circuit advanced periscope optic, the captain made an a.s.sessment of the mainland.
”Looks like a lot of undead Chinese, COB,” he said, an unlit cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth.
”I could have told you that without looking, sir.”
”Yeah, I'll bet you could've. Kil, you in here?”
”Yes, sir,” Kil said, stepping out of the shadows near a bank of equipment.
”Might want to ready the UAV crews. We'll need airborne reconnaissance of the area and the Chinese airfield.”
”I'll inform the crew to preflight the birds for launch. Is that all?”
”No, Commander, actually it's not. I was wondering if you had given any thought to our previous conversations?”
”Yes, sir, I have, and I'm afraid my answer hasn't changed.”
La.r.s.en leaned closer to Kil. ”It's a shame that Rex and Rico will be working alone, especially so soon after losing Griff and Huck. This'll be a very difficult undertaking. You want me to inform them or would you like to? I'd like to remind you that our armory is quite extensive, and Beijing was not a target of nuclear weapons. Virginia was a special-operations support s.h.i.+p before everything went to h.e.l.l, and she still is.”
”I'll tell them myself, Captain.”
”Very well. Oh, one more thing-we'll have a little more overhead support for Hourgla.s.s than has been previously briefed.”
”How do you mean?”
”Shall we?” La.r.s.en gestured for Kil to follow him to the SCIF.
They walked through the door and were now securely insulated from the rest of the boat. Commie sat at his terminal with Commander Monday over his shoulder, examining the haul of information extracted from the Kunia mission.
Commie sanitized his screen as Kil and La.r.s.en entered the room.
”We'll have overhead support, SR-71 on steroids. The optics on the bird are much more sensitive and cover exponentially more land ma.s.s. The team will know what's coming before it's a factor,” La.r.s.en said.
”What air base?” Kil asked skeptically. ”We're a long way from home.”
”I can't say, mostly because I don't know.”
”What a.s.set then?”
”Lockheed's Aurora. She's actually called something else, but Aurora has been the code name for all of Lockheed's hypersonic programs dating from the 1960s to now. She's fast, with a full IMINT and Ground Moving Target Indicator suite. She'll be supporting at an alt.i.tude of angels ninety plus, for a period of six hours.”
”If this thing is flying in from the states, it must have needed some sort of tanker support. When will it be overhead?” Kil asked.
”The COG relayed five days ago that Aurora would be overhead at one thousand GMT tomorrow. Of course, that's before the carrier went dark, but somehow I don't think that will be a factor for this a.s.set. As far as tanker support, Aurora doesn't use JP-5. Maybe when you go talk to Rex to tell him that you won't be part of the team, you can brief him on it.”
”Thanks for the information, sir.”
”You're welcome, Kil.”
Kil felt La.r.s.en's stare as he left the SCIF. The old man was manipulating him, and dammit it was working.
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