Authors: Keith Douglass
“It's an in-and-out, but it might have grazed the bone. We'll check later.” He tied up the wound to stop the bleeding as they all watched the planes.
“Hope they target the right ship,” Jaybird said. “One of those Harpoon missiles would put this luxury liner on the bottom of the mother-loving Pacific.”
They watched. They knew there wouldn't be any warning. Jaybird explained: “A jet coming straight at you doesn't make any sound out front. It's when it slams overhead and goes away that the sound comes. By then you're either dead or they missed you.”
Jaybird saw a touch of exhaust out the back of the first jet, and pointed. A moment later the big bird screamed overhead, and they saw a burst of smoke as the sea-skimming missile angled straight for the Korean frigate. The fourteen-hundred-pound missile hit the frigate just off mid-ship, and blasted ten feet into the craft before the five hundred pounds of explosives detonated. The 334-foot-long Korean frigate jolted upward twenty feet when the missile exploded. Then it heeled over to port, and smoke poured from a massive fire that had ruptured the ship's fuel tanks.
The fire outlined the ship at once. A creaking and groaning came from the massive steel structure of the ship, and then a ripping and tearing as the stern broke off and sank immediately. The bow and most of the middle of the ship floated, held in place by the anchor line. The fires grew and explosions racked the ship as one after another blossomed into the dark sky.
Less than two minutes after the missile hit the ship, it slipped under the water, the anchor still holding, bringing it straight down to the bottom.
A siren sounded on board the
Royal Princess.
Then the public-address system came on. “This is Captain
Van Derhorn speaking. All available crew members are to report to the lifeboats. Man boats and launch at once to search for survivors of the frigate. There were a hundred and thirty men on board. Search now and continue searching. I repeat, all available crew members trained in lifeboat launching report to the davits now for launching.”
Verbort ran back toward the lifeboats and began lowering the nearest to the water. Three crewmen stepped into the boat, and it pulled away toward the stern of the big ship and the place where the frigate had sunk.
Crewmen came out of their bunks, dressed quickly, and ran to the lifeboats. Soon they had twenty in the water, scouring the area that now showed as black as death, as they worked through the few items that had floated from the sinking frigate. Many of the passengers were awake and watching from the rails.
The PA system came on again. “Is there anyone on board who speaks Korean? We need to inform all the Korean sailors on board that they should turn in their weapons and give themselves up. They will not be harmed and will be turned over to representatives of their government when we reach port.”
Murdock called on his radio net. “All SEALs report in the usual rotation. First Platoon go first.”
He listened as the men checked in and told where they were and what they were doing. When the reports were done, Murdock knew that they had captured all of the vital control areas of the big ship. They had put down an estimated fourteen of the Koreans and captured six more. That still left at least thirty on the ship, including the frigate captain, Kim.
Five minutes later the PA system came on again with a woman speaking Korean. She pleaded with the men in their own language to lay down their arms and turn themselves in. Murdock headed for the bridge. The last he knew, the luxury-ship captain had been a prisoner of Captain Kim. Evidently he'd escaped. He might know where the Korean was.
On the bridge, Captain Van Derhorn shook his head. “I don't know what happened to him. Three of us overpowered Kim, and took his weapon away from him, but he ran down a corridor and vanished.”
“He still has at least thirty armed men on board and could do a lot of damage. Could you get all passengers back in their cabins?”
The captain said he could, and made the announcement.
“All passengers are requested to return to their cabins and lock the doors. There are still hijackers on board who are armed and dangerous. Please return to your cabins at once.”
Murdock, Jaybird, and Ching huddled on the bridge.
“Where the hell can he be?” Ching asked.
“He's lost his power base, no frigate,” Jaybird said. “So he's on his own with his remaining troops. If he can find them. He could always swim to shore and fade into Korean Town in San Francisco or Los Angeles.”
“Or jump a South Korean flagship out of San Pedro and get back to Korea,” Murdock said. “More likely he'll try fighting to the end on the ship. How do we find him?”
“Call him out for a one-on-one shoot-out on the fantail, like the old Westerns,” Ching said.
“Maybe not exactly that, but that's an idea. We use the PA system for sure.”
The Motorolas sounded and the three listened. “Skipper, Jefferson. We've got a situation down here on the promenade deck that you need to be in on. Some wild-eyed Korean with a sub gun has six passengers in nightclothes pasted against a bulkhead and is threatening to shoot them. Too damn many civvies around for Donegan or me to get off a good shot.”
“Hold the fort, Jefferson. We're on our way,” Murdock said, and the three SEALs took off running.
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Murdock, Ching, and Jaybird darted out of the bridge, flew down two flights of steps, and came to the promenade deck. Standing in front of them were three North Koreans with their hands in the air. Their submachine guns lay on the deck at their feet.
“Tie them,” Murdock called to Ching, and he and Jaybird ran on to the center of the long and mostly dark promenade where they say a group of people. The SEALs slowed and came up behind a dozen middle-aged men and women in pajamas and robes. Murdock slouched so he wouldn't tower over the others, and stared between them. Six men and women in their robes were lined up against the bulkhead. A man stood in front of them wearing the off-blue uniform of the North Korean Navy. Then Murdock saw the submachine gun he carried and aimed at the six. The Korean shouted something in English, but Murdock couldn't understand it. He worked through the crowd to get closer.
“I told you once,” the Korean shouted. “I want a motor launch out the dockside hatch and I want guaranteed free passage to the boat and on to shore. Otherwise these six die here and right now.”
There was no ship's officer there. The man talked to the crowd. He turned looking at the people behind him.
“I'll shoot them down, believe it,” he shouted. “I am Captain Kim, and I'm used to being obeyed. Who can speak for the boat captain?”
A small woman with a long robe stepped from the group of people ten feet behind Kim.
“I can help you,” she said.
He turned to look at her. “Little woman of Korea, I remember you from before. Don't bother me. I spoke with you already and you were not polite. Go away.” He shrugged and turned from her. Before Murdock could make a move, the small Korean woman lifted a heavy .45 pistol from the folds of her dress.
“This is for killing my husband,” she shouted, and at once fired the heavy gun. It kicked high. The bullet slammed into Kim's right shoulder and spun him around. Before he could bring up the submachine gun, she brought the pistol down and fired again. This round jolted into his chest just over his heart and knocked him down, the sub gun skittering away from him on the deck.
The small Korean woman stepped up near him. Murdock pushed people aside and rushed toward the woman.
“You're not dead yet, Kim,” the woman screamed. “You should be.” Before Murdock got to her, she fired four times more from point-blank range above where he lay on the deck. All the rounds hit him in the chest.
Murdock lunged the last three feet and grabbed the weapon before she could fire again. “He's dead,” Murdock said.
Susie Jamison nodded, stepped closer to the body, and kicked it three times. “May your soul wander for all eternity in the nether regions of the unforgiven and may your ancestors deride you and scream at you for a thousand centuries for disgracing them and making them lose face.” Mrs. Jamison turned and walked away through the gawking vacationers.
Murdock used his drill-field command voice. “All of you passengers. This has been a shocking sight. Now please clear this area. Return to your cabins and lock the doors. There are still more than two dozen armed and dangerous North Korean Navy killers on board who could strike at any time. Go now and stay in your cabins until Captain Van Derhorn gives you an all-clear.” He watched as the people took a last look at the dead man, then slowly filtered into the inside of the ship. The six people against the wall surged out and gathered around Murdock, thanking him, glancing with fright at
the man who had almost killed them. Murdock urged the six to hurry to their cabins.
Murdock and Jaybird went back to the bridge. The captain reported that fifteen of the hostiles had surrendered.
“We're getting survivors from the frigate at the dockside hatch. So far we've brought twenty on board. I've called the nearest Coast Guard station to send out two rescue choppers to transport some of our most seriously injured passengers and crew to a hospital. They say twenty minutes. They also will send three cutters to come and take the North Koreans off our hands. They can have the wounded ones too. Not sure how many survived the sinking.”
“Good work, Captain. The Coast Guard should take the bodies too. As soon as we get the ship cleared of all the Korean live ones, we'll gather up the corpses and take them down to the hatch level. The North Korean government will want the bodies returned, I'm sure.”
Murdock talked to the Motorola. “Okay, team. Maintain one guard at each of the vital areas. The rest of you report to the top deck and we'll start a sweep of the decks to find any reluctant North Koreans. May be some trouble, may not.”
They made the sweep. On the top deck they found no one. Two Koreans came out of a closet-type room on the second level and surrendered. Then it went faster, and they found only six more Koreans, and none offered any resistance.
When they finished the last passenger-area sweep, Murdock checked his watch. Almost 0300. He didn't think it had taken that long to cleanse the big ship.
His Motorola sounded in his earpiece.
“Murdock, this is Socha. The dockside hatch wasn't open when we finished our exercise, so we swam for shore. We're all present and accounted for. How is the job there moving?”
Murdock told him. “About ready to call in our Forty-Sixes. You want a pickup?”
“Roger that, Murdock. Let us know when our chopper is coming and we'll use some red flares to mark our beach. We're almost due east of the ship. Nice and quiet over here. Understand that frigate is bottomed out somewhere out there.”
“Affirmative, Socha. An F-86 christened it with a Harpoon missile. The old tub broke in half and went down.”
“Good. Let me know when our pickup is.”
At 0420 the Coast Guard choppers arrived and transported the six critical passengers to the closest hospital. Cutters came soon after that and swallowed up sixty-nine North Koreans, alive and dead. The cutters would transport them to shore to be turned over to the county sheriff to be jailed awaiting possible prosecution, or pickup by federal authorities. The other two cutters began a systematic search of the still-dark waters for survivors. They estimated there could be as many as fifty or sixty more North Korean sailors out there in the water.
Murdock asked Verbort to contact the fly guys again. The plan had been for the two Forty-Six choppers to wait at the ballpark until they were needed. They set up an 0530 pickup off the fantail of the big luxury liner. The captain was anxious to get under way. He pulled in his sea anchor, and had been instructed by his company to return to San Diego, where the passengers would be released and given vouchers good for another trip. The ship would go in for repairs, which the captain estimated would take at least four months.
At 0530 one Forty-Six landed on the golf tee on the stern of the
Royal Princess,
and the other one stopped by at the beach. The chopper crews were refreshed after four hours of sleep, and turned their craft toward San Diego and Coronado.
They had just passed Oceanside, and it was daylight, when the chopper pilot called Murdock up front.
“Not sure what is going on, Commander. Suddenly my radio reception went dead. Now I'm getting one transmission from a SATCOM my CO is using outside his office. He told me that the whole base and San Diego is blacked out. It's not a rolling blackout. The whole county is black. My CO said he's getting SATCOM traffic from Los Angeles and San Francisco. From what they say, the whole damn West Coast is running without the aid of electrical power. Everything electrical except battery power is shut down.”
“Terrorists or a nuke explosion in the atmosphere that blanked out all electrical?” Murdock asked.
“Can't be the nuke, or my whole electrical system would be down regardless of the battery.
“Sounds like a power grid went down. That would flash through huge surges on the rest of the West Coast power grids and they all could blow. Remember when five or six of them went down in Northern California and Oregon when a transformer island blew up a few years ago?”
“Heard about it. So far nobody is reporting any enemy action.”
“We just might not have heard of it yet. I'd guess the satellites are still up if we can talk through them. At least the SATCOM satellite is still there.”
The pilot shrugged. “My skipper says to come home. We should land in about twenty minutes. Plenty of fuel. I'm going to stay over the ocean all the way down instead of cutting across. All of the commercial flights must be down. Good thing it's light enough for them to land.”
Murdock went back to the troops and shouted the news to them. Sadler scowled. “Who the hell did it?” he asked.
“Could have been a power grid accident, explosion, almost anything to put down the whole West Coast grid,” Lam said.
“Who has our SATCOM?” Murdock asked.
“Back at the base,” Sadler said. “Didn't think we'd need it.”
“Looks like we do, Senior Chief. But I don't know if we could use it inside this bird or not. From here on out, I want that SATCOM glued to somebody's back. Wherever we go, training or an operation. We have waterproofing for it?”
“No, sir,” Jaybird said.
“Everything except training swims and wet operations, we take the set. Senior Chief, get it waterproofed as soon as possible. Must be some gear that will do the job.”
“Copy that, Commander.”
DeWitt slid in beside Murdock. “Suppose this is some more of the North Korean attack?”
“Hadn't thought about it, but sure as hell could be. Doesn't take much to throw the whole grid into a blackout. All they would have to do is pick the right relay stations and a few major transmission lines.”
“How long was the power out before?” DeWitt asked.
“Don't remember exactly. They found the problem almost at once and fixed it. As I recall, ten or twelve hours. Caused a horrendous mess.”
“Yeah, and now with the Internet and e-mail, think of the trouble it will cause. All business is shut down at the git-go. Can't run a store without lights and cash registers. Oh, little places can get by, but not the big ones. Any on-line outfits are dead for the day or the week, and the stock market is deader than last year's Super Bowl tickets.”
“Thanks, and the market was just starting on an upward trend,” DeWitt said.
Murdock went back to the pilot. “Check to see if there will be a bus or trucks waiting for us at your field.”
“My commander told me that the bus is there waiting. Has been since you took off. It can drive through Coronado, but there's a huge traffic jam there with folks coming to work at North Island. No traffic lights. He says there are two radio stations still on using emergency generators. They keep telling people that when they come to an intersection to treat it like a four-way stop. Coronado has cops at the major intersections, but the whole thing is one huge mess. You might get back to your quarters faster if you hiked.”
“Thanks, Lieutenant. We'll see the lay of the land when we get there.”
A few minutes later, the twenty-four SEALs stepped out of the CH-46 after it had landed at North Island Naval Air Station, six miles from the SEALs headquarters. Murdock looked around. It was a little after 0745. He didn't see the usual activity around the big base. The SEALs trooped fifty yards to the Navy bus waiting for them, and boarded with all their gear.
“Can you get us through the traffic?” Murdock asked. The Navy second class driving the bus shrugged. “Don't have the faintest. The station sent most of the civilian workers home as soon as they got here, and that's caused a reverse traffic jam. We'll work it out and go around the ocean side. Might work.”
A half hour later the bus stopped in the NAVSPECWARGRUP-ONE parking area, and the SEALs traipsed over the Quarter Deck and into their quarters. Murdock and
DeWitt stopped to talk with Master Chief Petty Officer Gordon MacKenzie. They had known each other for over six years.
“Well, Commander, lad, sir. A fine mess you've got us in this time. No juice at all, up the whole damn coast. Nobody has a shot glass of an idea what caused it, and evidently no idea about how to fix it.”
“You using your SATCOM?”
“Aye. Picking up lots of transmissions on all frequencies. Most are just short of panic calls.”
“Anything official?”
MacKenzie pulled out a small radio and turned it on.
“So, this is KFMB, one of two radio stations in San Diego still functioning. Our big turbine is spinning away driving the large generator and providing our station with power. So far we have received little information from the network. We have some receivers on covering many bands and frequencies. Up to now this is all we know for sure.
“Power is out all along the coast from the top of Washington State to San Ysidro. Most stores and businesses are closed. Traffic is snarled. No TV stations in town are on the air. Television takes a tremendous lot of power. We're trying to get our sister TV station up, but so far no luck.
“What caused it? Nobody knows. Some emergency government agencies are swinging into action. We understand the county emergency radio system overlooking El Cajon has been staffed and will soon be operational. Power is out in what is called the Pacific Electrical Grid, which covers the coast states and most of Idaho, part of Montana, and all of Nevada, Utah, and Arizona. It could be a long day and a horrendous night if they don't figure out the problem.
“I have just received a call from a ham radio operator. All of you hams out there get your sets into operation and see what you can find out. This is a transmission from a woman north of Redding who says she witnessed a gigantic explosion in a huge electrical substation near her home. Redding is in the Central Valley about a hundred and ninety miles north of San Francisco. It's a center where high-voltage power lines come in and power goes out in several directions. She said she's seen a transformer explode on a pole.