"Much easier than smuggling it on an airplane," Giordino agreed. "Probably send them over on a Japanese-flagged carrier."
"Or perhaps the elusive Baekje" Dirk added.
"Yaeger has the rundown on what to look for in the way of biological components and likely storage," Gunn said. "I'll see that customs is appropriately educated for their port inspections."
"That may still be too late," Pitt replied. "They could release the agent as they're sailing into port, contaminating the whole region before they dock. Think of San Francisco Bay, for example."
"Or even before they arrive at port, if there is a prevailing wind. The release in the Aleutians was apparently launched by boat offshore of Yunaska Island, so it's certainly possible they could strike without entering port," Dirk said.
"The Coast Guard is tasked with port security under Homeland Security jurisdiction and presently boards and inspects all incoming commercial vessels shortly before arrival in port," noted Webster.
"But do they board and inspect offshore commercial vessels that are not port bound?" Dirk asked.
"I do not believe that the Coast Guard's resources are sufficient for that to be considered part of their security mission. They have beefed up their sea marshal program but still have a limited number of vessels available that they can put to sea. Asking for expanded coverage along the entire West Coast is well beyond their resource ability."
"What about the Navy?" Summer asked. "Why can't some ships of the Pacific Fleet be pressed into service? With the national security at risk, it seems to me we should press every available military vessel into blockade duty."
"A good question with a sticky answer," Gunn responded. "It's a gray area of the Navy's mission. They're never big on playing a supporting role to the Coast Guard. They'd likely balk at the request until we got the secretary of defense or the White House to press the issue. I'll bring it up with the vice president, but, realistically, we're talking a week at best before they could be brought online. And that might be too late."
"There is another option," Pitt said, reaching into a desk drawer and withdrawing a daily report of NUMA research vessel assignments. "Let's see, the Pacific Explorer just arrived in Vancouver, the Blue Gill is conducting a marine survey off Drake's Bay north of San Francisco, and the Deep Endeavor is testing a submersible in San Diego. It's not a
fleet of battleships but I can reassign three of my research vessels to be in position off the major West Coast metropolitan ports assisting the Coast Guard in two days."
"That would be a significant boost in offshore resources. And I'm sure the Coast Guard would be grateful for the support," Webster said.
"Call it a temporary loan," Pitt said. "At least until Rudi can find a way to bill back the charges."
"I'm sure we can work out some sort of compensation for our support during this heightened state of alert," Gunn said, eyeing Webster with a sharklike grin.
"It's settled, then. The West Coast NUMA fleet will initiate offshore bomb-sniffing exercises at once. One thing, though," Pitt said to Webster in a rigid tone. "Kang already sank one of my vessels, I don't want to lose another. I want an armed cutter in the vicinity of my ships at all times."
"Agreed. The interdiction teams will be a
lerted as well to the possibility of an armed response."
"Good. Our team here will coordinate with the regional Coast Guard surveillance squadrons. Rudi, you'll have to tear yourself out of the headquarters building. I'd like you to fly to San Francisco to set up the Blue Gillwith the regional Coast Guard squadron and then see that the Pacific Explorer is similarly assigned in the Seattle/ Vancouver region. Dirk and Summer, I'd like you back on the Deep Endeavor in San Diego to assist with surveillance off Southern California," Pitt directed.
"What about me, boss?" Giordino asked with mock indignation. "Don't I get a boat inspector's pass?"
"Oh, no," Pitt replied with a mischievous smile. "I have something much higher in store for you."
There was little fanfare when a pair of scruffy tugboats began slowly nudging the Sea Launch platform Odyssey away from her home dock. The excitement surrounding a new launch had waned over the years, to the extent that only a handful of family, friends, and corporate managers stood and waved good-bye to the crew. A smaller platform crew also brought out fewer than normal well-wishers. Only forty-two men manned the big platform, roughly twenty fewer than usual, as Launch Director Stamp held back many of the launch engineers to aid the fire repairs being made on the support ship. Captain Christiano watched restlessly from the bridge of the Sea Launch Commander v& the rocket-laden platform crept away from the pier, offering a farewell to the crew and vessel with a long blast from his ship's horn. Several decks beneath him, an army of electricians and computer technicians worked feverishly around the clock to repair the control room fire damage in hopes that the command ship could follow the platform out to sea in another three or four days.
Christiano's greeting was met by a short horn blast from the Odyssey that seemed to come from the clouds. The Odyssey's main platform deck towered nearly a hundred feet above the water. An oceangoing vessel in her own right, the floating platform relied on tugboats to get her cleanly in and out of port. Although she could position herself on a dime, visibility of small boats and harbor obstacles was precarious from the pilothouse positioned high atop the structure so tugs were utilized for safe navigation in congested waters.
The massive structure moved slowly past the port entrance jetty, appearing like a mammoth tarantula creeping across the calm waters. The converted North Sea oil platform rode high atop five thick support columns aligned along each flank. Slicing through the waves barely above the surface, the base of the columns rested upon a huge pair of underwater pontoons, each stretching over four hundred feet in length. Affixed to each aft pontoon hull was a pair of four-bladed propellers, which could push the ungainly craft through the swells at speeds of up to 12 knots. At over thirty thousand tons of displacement, the Odyssey was the largest self-propelled catamaran vessel in the world and easily the most impressive to the eye. Gliding past the entrance to Long Beach Harbor, the platform crept another two miles offshore before the tugs ground to a halt.
"Stand by to take up tow lines barked the Odyssey's commander, a no-nonsense ex-tanker captain named Hennessey.
The tugs released their tow lines which were quickly reeled in by the Odyssey's crew. The platform's four three-thousand-horsepower direct current motors were engaged, and, as the tugs peeled off to the sides, the Odyssey moved forward under her own power. Riding high atop its large pair of pontoons, the crew on the elevated platform swayed slowly back and forth as if in a skyscraper during a windstorm. The powerful Zenit rocket, tightly secured in its horizontal berth, was immune to the gentle motion. The experienced crew went casually about their duties, falling into a relaxed routine during the slow journey toward the launch site as the beige coast of California gradually disappeared from view. Hennessey gently increased power until the platform was chugging along at 9 knots, then laid in a course to the southwest toward the designated launch site fifteen hundred miles south of Hawaii at the equator. No one suspected it was to be a destination they would never see.
Fifteen hundred miles to the west, the Koguryo raced across the Pacific like a greyhound chasing a rabbit. Only a diversionary stop in the Ogasawara Islands to retrieve Tongju had slowed her pace since departing Inchon. After skirting a storm front west of Midway, the vessel had encountered calm seas and a strong tailwind, allowing her to churn east at top speed. Stripped of her bulky cable-laying equipment and the miles of heavy cable normally stored belowdecks, the Koguryo rode nine feet higher in the water than usual. Her four diesel engines pushed the lightened ship along at a rapid 21 knots, propelling her across the ocean at nearly six hundred miles a day.
On board, the large team of engineers and technicians readied themselves for the coming Zenit rocket launch. A launch control center, nearly an exact duplicate of the control room on the Sea Launch Commander, had been constructed on a lower deck of the Koguryo and was the site of continuous activity. The final batch of launch software had been received from the Inchon lab and the software support team loaded up a series of mock launch scenarios for the operations team. Each day, the launch team worked their way through a series of sample test launches until, after a week at sea, the simulations were performed flawlessly. Told only that they would be controlling the launch of a Kang satellite from a floating platform, the team had no idea of the illicit mission they were actually supporting and looked forward to firing off the actual rocket.
Tongju utilized the time at sea to hone his tactics for the assault on the Odyssey. He and his commando team pored over blueprints of the launch platform, calculating strike positions and coordinating force movements, until he had a minute-by-minute plan of attack. The commandos memorized their moves, cleaned their weapons, and generally stayed out of sight of the other crewmen as the ship moved closer and closer to its target. After an evening meal with his assault team, Tongju invited his second-in-command Kim back to his cabin. In the privacy of his room, he explained Kang's order to scuttle the Koguryo.
"I have provided Captain Lee with the rendezvous position where we are to meet the waiting freighter. I did not inform him, however, of the plan to sink his ship, only that we would be transferring the launch crew to the other vessel for safety."