Warshot (The Hunter Killer Series Book 6) by Don Keith (top ten ebook reader TXT) 📗

The intricate trap was poised, ready to be sprung. And nobody even suspected what was about to happen.

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Joe Glass stepped onto the gently pitching deck of the captain’s gig. The coxswain, neatly dressed in whites, snapped a salute just as Glass’s foot hit the deck. As Glass returned the salute, he noted out of the corner of his eye that his SUBRON SEVEN broad pennant was broken on the forestaff. Such formality was still difficult for a former sub captain to get accustomed to.

Glass stood in the boat’s cockpit as the gig glided across Pago Pago’s inner harbor. A cooling breeze rippled the turquoise water. Palm trees and bright flowers lined the distant shoreline. It was nice to enjoy the beautiful tropical afternoon and play tourist for a few brief minutes, not having to think about the boiling tension that had brought him out here to paradise in the first place.

The one-mile jaunt over to the Port of Pago Pago Main Dock did not take nearly long enough for Glass. Before he knew it, the coxswain brought the gig smoothly alongside a Jacob’s ladder that hung down from the high, white side of the Deep Ocean Explorer. Glass leapt over to the ladder and climbed up to the research ship’s main deck.

Two men waited there to greet him as he stepped onboard. Both were casually dressed in shorts and T-shirts. The older and shorter of the two smiled as he stuck out his hand. His grip was firm and brief.

“Welcome aboard the Deep Ocean Explorer, Commodore. I’m Rex Smith, the chief scientist onboard. I try to give this motley crew some modicum of adult leadership.” He nodded toward the other man. “This is Captain Bill Bix. He points the bow in the right direction and gets us where we need to be.”

“Thanks, gentlemen,” Glass responded. “It’s a beautiful vessel. I’ve heard much about the work you do and I salute you.”

Smith thanked him with a smile and a nod and then ushered the little group from the broad, open main deck, past the orange UUV strapped securely to it, and forward to the deck house. The three entered a nicely appointed office space and took seats around a small conference table covered with empty coffee cups, charts, and a pile of papers.

“I’m glad you could come over and visit us today,” Smith began. “Bill and I have been discussing King Two-for-One’s little speech before the Security Council. You are, of course, aware that his...well, I guess you call it a ‘land grab’ since ‘sea grab’ doesn’t sound quite right.”

Smith waved toward a chart and continued. “Anyway, whatever you call it, he is claiming that he and his little kingdom own all of this area, and that coincidentally includes the spot where we found the gold field. Pretty obvious bit of timely annexation. Our lawyers are already working on filing a lawsuit and we are in conversation with the US Department of State. But what I really need most is some protection for my ship and my people when we go back out there to continue our research.”

Joe Glass picked up a large-scale chart that mapped the water between where they were located at the moment, in American Samoa, and over to Tonga to the southwest. He pointed to the territorial boundaries clearly marked on the chart.

“Doctor Smith, as far as I am concerned, and as far as my boss is concerned, these have always been, currently are, and forever will be international waters, not under the control of any country. The Deep Ocean Explorer is an American flagged vessel. If you sail out here...” Glass stabbed with his index finger the point on the chart where the research vessel had found the spewing gold. “...and if someone tries to stop you or interferes in your operations in any way, we are obligated to defend you and your rights. You can be assured we will do just that. And do so effectively and enthusiastically.” Glass sat back in his chair. “But I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you. King Tofuwanga doesn’t have any navy to speak of. Just a few marines. Certainly, there is no army other than ceremonial. And even if the Chinese say they are backing him, the nearest Chinese base is over five thousand miles away.”

The compartment was quiet for a long moment. All three men gazed out across the open waters of the tranquil bay. Smith finally turned back to his guest.

“I am so sorry, sir. May I offer you coffee? A cup of tea?”

“No, Dr. Smith. Thank you very much. I rarely turn down coffee, but I do need to get back to some boring meeting or the other. I do wish you had not shared news of your find out there, though. It certainly has caused some issues.”

Smith nodded his understanding.

“Understand we are obligated to tell our donors and supporters of anything of interest,” the scientist said. “And manage their expectations. They have to understand the limited possibilities for ever recovering enough of that gold to even make it worthwhile to attempt to get it. I’m afraid many others are not at all aware of that very big issue. But obviously someone in our group let the word get out.”

“Yes, and I know they did not anticipate how such news might play into the rather complicated political stuff that is going on now, partly as a result of your discovery. But be assured we will do all we can to protect you, your ship, and your work.”

“Allow me to thank you for your assurances,” Smith replied. “That makes me, and I’m sure all our crew, feel much better as we prepare to return to the area. We have much work to do, including understanding the science behind geo-physical actions that created that mound of precious metal out there.”

Joe Glass shook the hands of the two men, thanked them again for the work they did