Page 68 of Enemy of My Enemy
“Tell me about the captured freighter.”
“Nineteen crewmembers, running under a Malaysian flag. The captain is an American, retired Merchant Marine. We’ve heard the captain’s voice but don’t have proof of life for any other crewmembers.”
“Their cargo?” Ethan leaned forward, frowning.
“One hundred thousand tons of crude oil freshly pumped from the Iranians.” Bradford scowled. “Our ships in the water report three large speedboats loaded with explosives dumped mines across the strait and disappeared.” He glanced briefly to Sergey but then tapped out a few commands on his tablet and called up the surveillance images taken from the deck of a naval carrier.
“Any idea how many mines were dumped?”
“Spotters estimate at least a hundred. All commercial ship traffic has halted. It’s a cluster out there. One of the oil tankers is on fire. Bahrain has sent out their coast guard to assist. At least twelve super haulers were due to transit the strait today, and they’re stranded on either side. The freighters outside the strait are sitting ducks. Inside, we’ve got sixteen thousand sailors and Marines held hostage.”
“We’re getting panicked calls from every Gulf nation.” Elizabeth sounded harried and harassed, and her normally perfect hair was pulled back in a loose clip. Dark strands hung around her face.
“What carrier strike group is currently over there?” Jack pulled out his chair and sat down, gesturing for Sergey to grab one of the spare chairs on the wall and drag it to his side. He scooted over, making room for Sergey at the head of the table. “Sergey, you have three destroyers in the Gulf, yes?”
Wide-eyed looks shot around the room as Sergey nodded.
“We have theDwight D. Eisenhowerdocked in Bahrain, Mr. President.” Admiral McDonald, chief of naval operations and one of the joint chiefs, said. “But they’re in port for repairs. The carrier was battered pretty hard by a monsoon on her transit through the Arabian Sea. Blue water over the flight deck. Last estimates for repairs put them at best at seventy-two hours. Which means they’re a sitting duck right now.”
“Damn it.” Jack sighed. “What about the rest of the strike group?”
“We sent two cruisers and three destroyers with theEisenhower. All five are stationed near Kuwait, too far away for immediate action.”
“Sir!” One of the attachés to the chief of naval operations leaned in, passing his tablet directly to Admiral McDonald.
Admiral McDonald’s expression turned fierce. “Mr. President, spotters have picked up one of the speedboats. It’s come out from behind the hijacked tanker and is currently aiming dead on for theEisenhower. It has weapons trained on the carrier and can close the distance to her in four minutes. With the explosives on board, that speedboat could blow a hole in the side of our carrier. And if they detonate into the tanker, the whole thing will go up and devastate the Gulf.”
Jack looked to Ethan, for a moment, and then back to McDonald. “What are our options?”
“We destroy them. Now. Before they make their move.”
“Can we be certain we can take them out without blowing the tanker, Admiral? Can we act without doing their job for them?”
“Sir, it’s a risk we might have to take. In moments, we could be pulling dead Americans from the water.”
“If I may.” Sergey interrupted, leaning forward and tapping at the polished wood of the conference table. “Is there a phone that I can use? I’d like to call my Commodore in the Persian Gulf, just off Bahrain.”
Silence.
In the scramble that followed, one of the watch officers managed to get in radio contact with the fleet admiral on the Russian lead destroyer. Sergey spoke in Russian, and General Bradford snapped for a translator in the room as Irwin and Rees collectively looked like they were chewing nails.
“He’s… ordering his destroyer to go between theEisenhowerand the hijacked tanker… and the speedboat.” The translator, another watch officer, frowned. “He’s ordering them to hold their position and shield theEisenhower. No matter what.”
The Situation Room, again, stared at Sergey as the line cut out, but this time, with something a little less hostile.
* * *
Between a conference callwith the Kremlin, radio patches with the Russian destroyers, and video calls with the Carrier Strike Group Commander, they hammered out a quick plan.
With the time and shielding the Russians provided, they were able to put Russian and American fast attack boats into the water, teams of Marines and RussianSpetznazforces onboard. They headed for the speedboat, snipers opening fire when the jihadis refused to yield. At the same time, divers slipped underwater to the hijacked tanker, boarding silently and creeping through the ship. They rescued the crew but slew the hijackers when they charged like raging berserkers.
“They don’t appear to be Middle Eastern,” one of the Marines radioed back to theEisenhower.“Maybe North African. Possibly Sudanese.”
Ethan and Jack shared a long look.
The American destroyer farthest south, theForest Sherman, waited for the Russian destroyerBezboyaznennyyto come down from Kuwait. Together, they headed for the mines.
Creeping out from where they’d hid in Iranian waters were the other two terrorist speedboats that had helped with the hijacking and the attack, each laden high with explosives, enough to rip a hole in both ships and sink them in minutes.
