Undetected (12 page)

“Your second idea, you're working on a new search algorithm?”

She hesitated. “Something like that,” she finally replied. “A very quiet sub, cross-sonar trying to find it, different ocean noise conditions—I'll have what I need to check out something that's been nagging at me.”

“I'll add the configuration to the sea trial plan.” Mark handed her a plate and a sandwich, found a bag of potato chips. “Jeff mentioned you're considering heading somewhere new after the sonar work is finished here, that you're not going back to Boulder.”

She picked up the sandwich, turned the bun to better hold the lettuce and cheese. “I've been working on the oceans for several years. It's time to find a big new territory to explore. The sun interests me. Solar flares, coronal mass ejections—there's some fascinating behavior going on in the sun, and it's a complex, dynamic system, a big data set. That's the common thread in what I enjoy working on most. They are doing some interesting work at the NASA Goddard Space Flight Center out in Maryland, and down at the NASA Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena. I think I might enjoy working in California.”

“It's got nice weather.” The oven chimed. Mark got up to put in the brownies and set the timer. “I'm hoping to get you to say yes about coming to sea with us for the trial,” he said as he retook his seat.

She licked Miracle Whip off her finger and shook her head. “I can't do it, Mark.”

“May I ask why?”

She gave him a rueful glance. “I don't like water that much. I definitely don't like the idea of being underwater in a sub. It's
not a few hours we're talking here; it's a few days. I'd be a danger to the boat if I freaked out. Or I'd get so stressed my speech would freeze, and that would nullify any reason I was there.”

“Your nerves would be fine. Really. Being in a submarine is not the sensations you might expect. It's like being in a basement. It's cool, well lit, and busy with people. Would you consider at least trying it before you said no? Ride with us on the
Nebraska
from the pier to the ocean, about a 16-hour journey. If you decide to say no at that point, we'll set you off with the Coast Guard cutter
Vincent
just outside Cape Flattery. I'll personally walk you across to the cutter, and they'll take you back to the Bangor dock.”

She was quiet for a good minute before she looked over at him. “I'll think about it, Mark. That's the best I can offer.”

“I'll mention one more thing. The boomer you and I would be on will be missile-free for the sea trial. It's coming out of dry dock for maintenance on the missile tubes, and the boomer won't reload new Tridents until it's ready to go back on patrol. Daniel Field is one of the sonar guys on the
Nebraska
, so you'll know someone on board besides me. And there will be four women in the crew, so you'd share a stateroom with them for the days we're at sea.”

She nodded. “I heard women were starting to deploy. How has that worked out?”

“Women serving in the submarine fleet is working just fine. The Navy adapts, it always has.” He reached for the potato chips. “So did you and Daniel have a good dinner?”

“You heard about that.” She glanced over at him, then quickly back at her plate.

Interesting, he thought, that he'd embarrassed her. “I know Jeff was going to introduce you,” he offered in explanation.

“He's a very nice man. We're going to a concert at the Seattle's Best Festival Thursday night.”

“I've heard it's a great event for music. You'll find someone, Gina. If not Daniel, a guy like him. Don't give up on the dream. Being married is nice.”

“You had a good marriage.”

“I had a very good marriage,” he confirmed. He'd already embarrassed her; he might as well ask the question he'd wondered about. “Want to talk about what happened with Kevin?”

She shook her head. “No. Three in a row end up in a breakup, the particulars don't matter so much anymore, just the pattern.” She pushed back her plate. “There are days being smart feels more like a curse than a blessing.”

“I can sympathize, even if I don't fully understand what it's been like.” He heard old hurts in her statement, ones she obviously wasn't interested in talking about, and he chose to move them to a new topic. “Jeff's arrived safely in Boulder?”

She smiled. “He's been there two days, and he already nearly broke his ankle skiing new snow. He's having a good time. He was packing my apartment this morning. Jeff admits to one close call with a lamp and a cracked picture frame. I'm just relieved he's taking care of the apartment for me so I don't have to go back. My belongings will soon be in boxes headed to Chicago.”

“You were wise to decide to move on,” Mark said. As it looked now, Jeff would be back five days before the sea trial got under way—enough time to review the trial plan, pack, and convince Gina she should come with them. Jeff would coordinate the sea trial on the
Connecticut
, and Mark would take Gina with him on the
Nebraska
if they could get her to say yes. “Anything else I can do for you while he's gone?”

“I'm fine, Mark, but thanks for asking.” She pushed back her chair. “I need to get going. I didn't mean to interrupt your day.”

“You should stay for dessert. Brownies will be done in a few minutes.”

“Which is why I'm leaving before that happens. I won't be able to resist.”

He walked with her through the house. “I hope you think seriously about coming along for the sea trial, Gina. I think Jeff would like you to experience what he does for a living, at least once.”

She bit her lip, and he wanted to reach over and stop the gesture—he'd seen it a couple of times now. She was nervous, uncertain . . . both.

“I'm not one for trying new adventures, Mark. I find they often end up badly for me.”

“Trust me and say yes anyway,” he recommended. He glanced at the street. “Security is with you?”

She nodded. “Connolly drove. He's been insisting lately that I let them chauffeur me around.”

“Good. Let them. At least while this sonar work is under way. Jeff and I will worry less about you then.”

“It makes me feel strange, the security.”

“It's for both your sake and the Navy's.”

“I know. I just wish it wasn't necessary. It's another reminder of how un-normal my life is.”

Mark understood that was the real distress she felt, the difference between her life and what she thought of as a “normal” one. She'd spent a lifetime being different from her peers. “There's a difference between what's normal for others and what's normal for you,” he told her. “Life gets
easier when you can accept that,” he added, trying to offer some advice without being pushy.

“Is yours different from normal?”

“How many people do you know who answer the phone in the middle of the night, wondering if it might be the President of the United States on the other end? He has the phone number of every ballistic missile commander. If things are beginning to get hot somewhere in the world, we hear directly from the commander in chief before we leave on patrol.”

She looked away, then glanced back. “North Korea?”

Mark didn't confirm or deny it. The North Korean regime was unstable, had nuclear weapons, was making progress on mobile missile launchers, and had ripped up the armistice agreement that had kept peace, such as it was, on the peninsula. One of the real fears was a North Korea opening move of a nuclear bomb dropped on the South Korean capital of Seoul. “Think of normal as being what God intends for your life,” Mark said. “Un-normal is everything that's something other than His plans for you. Life gets easier that way, Gina. Go ahead and stress about what you should care about, but ignore the rest.”

She half smiled. “That's experience speaking?”

“Some. When you can't simplify your life, you can simplify what you choose to care about. You'll never be able to control where your science takes you. You won't be able to control things like security decided by others. You can decide what you're going to be responsible for, and let the rest flow off as just what is.”

“When Daniel and I went for a walk and ice cream on Friday night, he never mentioned the security that was following me.”

“He noticed it, Gina. And I am confident in saying it's not going to be on his list of concerns about going out with you. The fact you come with unusual factors just makes you one of a kind. It doesn't make you odd.”

“You really think so?”

“Not all guys are idiots like Kevin. Ask Daniel next Thursday what he thinks about the security. I'll predict it's not going to be an issue.”

“At least it's temporary,” Gina replied.

Mark didn't correct her, even though he knew it was likely she would be designated a national security asset and that security would become permanent. It would be better to first get her to accept the idea of temporary security, then when it became necessary, help her through the fact it wasn't going to end. “I hope you and Daniel have a good time at the concert.”

Gina nodded. “Thanks for the lunch, Mark,” she said, giving him a full smile, then heading down the walk to the waiting car. For the second time in as many weeks, Mark felt the impact of one of Gina's full smiles. His “You're welcome” was a beat late. After she slipped into the passenger seat of the car, he closed the front door of the house and heard the oven timer go off. He headed back to the kitchen. Gina would be fine. And Daniel Field was a lucky man.

T
he USS
Ohio
and the USS
Connecticut
were already away from the pier, heading out to the Pacific. USS
Nebraska
was in final preparations to push away, the tugboats coming into position. Bishop pulled down on the
Nevada
ball cap the wind was trying to carry off his head. Rain had swept through overnight, leaving the morning clear and crisp with a typical southwesterly wind coming across the Hood Canal.

Jeff had boarded the
Connecticut
with a last-minute warning that Gina might change her mind. Bishop was determined not to let that happen. He stood on the pier and watched her walk toward him. He could tell she was still gathering her courage to do this. He stepped forward and took the duffel bag she carried.

She was dressed in jeans and tennis shoes along with two layers of shirts as he had recommended. He handed off the duffel bag to a seaman, who hustled across the walkway with it.
Get her things below
, before she changes her mind
. Bishop smiled when her gaze met his. He didn't have any problem guessing her thoughts at the moment.

“We'll walk across to the deck, go down the aft ladder,” he
told her calmly. “I'll take you through the boat to the command-and-control center, where I'll introduce you to the
Nebraska
's commander, John Neece, our host for this sea trial. Then I'll take you forward to the sonar room where you'll be working and get you situated. Daniel Field will already be there. If you want to bypass a conversation for any reason, just bump my arm or squeeze my hand, and I'll step in.”

She nodded.

“You'll have 15 hours before you have to make a yes or no decision, so just relax and enjoy this, Gina. You haven't committed yet. You can step off to the Coast Guard cutter
Vincent
, and they'll bring you back to this very pier if you decide not to go on the sea trial. The sea is relatively calm today, so the transition from sub to cutter won't be a hard one to make. We're good?”

“Yes. We're good.”

“You got some sun,” he mentioned, stalling for another moment in hopes she'd relax a bit more.

“Daniel took me out on his boat.”

“Enjoy it?”

“The time with him, the dock and the lunch and the ‘I did that' experience of it—yes. The water, not so much.”

Bishop chuckled. “He didn't try to talk you into learning to water-ski?”

She shook her head. “He's a smart man, Daniel Field. He said I looked cute in the life vest he insisted I wear, and partway through the day on the water he pulled out the navigation maps and put me to work plotting our course, then taught me to use the radio properly. That was fun. He promised to teach me how to use the depth finder next time so I can find where the fish are congregating.”

“You'll enjoy that.” Bishop reached for her hand. “Jeff and I, Daniel, we spend a lot of our lives on submarines. There are a hundred guys just like us on the
Nebraska
. So you're going to trust us for the next few hours and not worry about where you are. You're just going to keep busy thinking about the task at hand and learning something new. Okay?”

She solemnly nodded once more.

“Here we go.” He headed across the walkway, her hand in his. “When we're on a catwalk in the missile bay, just look at the person in front of you rather than down.”

“You had to mention that.”

“We could use the ladder in the forward sail and go down directly into the command-and-control center, but I think it will help you to see just how big this submarine is if we use the aft ladder and traverse through the boat.” The sailor on the deck getting ready to throw the mooring line off one of the cleats gave her an encouraging smile. Word was around the boat that this sea trial was hosting a VIP, and it hadn't taken the crew long to figure out it was a woman coming aboard to work with the sonar group.

Mark stepped off the walkway onto the black curved hull of the boat, walked with her across the surface toward the back of the sub. “You can't close your eyes when you go down a ladder. Just move slowly. I'll go first. I won't let you fall.” He stepped down the ladder, kept a hand on her ankle to make sure she had her footing on the step before she moved down.

She was cautious on the first steps until she descended far enough to get a handhold on a rung, and then she got a bit more comfortable. There were a lot of rungs. She took the final step off the ladder, glanced around, then looked at him.

She still seemed tentative, he thought. “It's quite a hike from here,” he said. “A boomer is nearly two football fields long.” He got a small smile from her. “Watch the door hatches so you clear your footing,” he cautioned. He took her hand again and led her through the boomer, along narrow passageways. Curiosity had her looking around at everything. She was quiet, and he'd been expecting that—just not this quiet. She'd asked not a single question during the journey. He would have explained what they were passing, but he wanted to leave it for another tour, and make satisfying her curiosity a reason for her to decide to stay on board.

“Welcome to the command-and-control center,” Bishop said, easing her into the room just ahead of him so she could have an unobstructed look around the busy room. It was fully staffed with nine men and one woman now at stations.

The commander of the USS
Nebraska
, John Neece, came over to meet them. “Welcome to the
Nebraska
, Miss Gray.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“Bishop.” John offered his hand. “It's good to have you aboard.”

“Thanks for the use of your boat, John.”

“It's going to be a pleasure trip, Bishop, compared to some. We're ready to sail. Come join us topside if you like, Gina, once we're in transit. There's no place like the bridge of a sub for enjoying how beautiful this stretch of Washington State really is.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Bishop pointed. “Head through that passageway, Gina. The sonar room is just forward.”

Daniel Field got to his feet as they appeared in the doorway,
smiled at Gina. “Welcome to my office, Gina. You can sit here beside me, and I'll walk you through the operations. But first let me introduce you to the other sonar guys on this watch. I'd like you to meet Kerns, Waller, and Dugin.”

She nodded at the introductions and took the seat he had indicated.

Bishop squeezed her shoulder, leaned over to whisper, “Relax.” She glanced up to give him a brief smile.

Bishop stepped out of the sonar room, caught the attention of Lieutenant Junior Grade Sharon Walters waiting to join them. “Thanks for volunteering for this, Sharon.”

“My pleasure, sir.”

“It's a coin flip whether she's staying, so for now just explain what's happening on the boat as we make the transit and answer any questions she might ask. Don't be surprised if she's pretty quiet. You know how to handle it if she can't get the next word out?”

“Jeff explained. I'm good, sir. I'll send someone to find you.”

Bishop stepped back into the sonar room. “Gina, I would like you to meet one more person. This is Lieutenant Sharon Walters. She'll be your sea buddy for this trip. Anywhere you go in the boat, if Daniel or I are not with you, she will be. She's a fountain of knowledge about how everything works, so ask anything you like.”

Gina nodded. “It's nice to meet you, Sharon.”

“This is going to be fun,” Sharon replied with a smile.

Bishop briefly rested a hand on Gina's shoulder again. “I'm going to be topside with the captain.”

Gina glanced up. “Better you than me.”

Bishop grinned. “Enjoy your first sail. Take good care of her, Daniel.”

“Will do, sir.”

Bishop paused at the sonar room door, saw Gina's seat was empty, though Daniel was still there.

“Gina's doing fine, Commander. Sharon took her on a tour to show her the stateroom where she'd be bunking, then they were going to the officers' wardroom to see what's for dinner.”

The sea trial notebook was open in front of Daniel, and Bishop could see he had been reading ahead, looking at the upcoming locations. The men he had requested for the first sonar watch were all here. They had high enough security clearance levels to read them in on the true purpose of the sea trial, and they had been individually approved by Rear Admiral Hardman to know the details. Bishop closed the door. “Questions?” He knew Gina wouldn't have been discussing the specifics.

“The test references a cross-sonar ping—that's obviously new,” Daniel said.

“She may have designed an active ping that can't be heard. We're going to check its range and see if our target sub can figure out he's being pinged.”

Silence met his simple summary. The other men glanced between each other. “You're not kidding, are you?” Dugin finally asked.

Bishop smiled, shook his head. “No.”

“The
Ohio
is our target?”

“Yes.”

“And he won't hear us looking for him?”

“I doubt he has even a hint that something is happening. The active ping isn't just buried in the ocean noise, it
is
ocean noise.”

“She's using ocean noise as the ping? Gina got that to work?” Daniel blinked as that settled in. “How very cool. Who else knows about this?”

“Rear Admiral Hardman signed off on you four as the sea trial team. So it's the four of you, your captain, Jeff on the
Connecticut
to swap the data drives from their vantage point, the sonar chief on the
Ohio
to capture what they are hearing—if anything—Gina, Rear Admiral Hardman, and me. That's it for who you can discuss this with. We're clear on that?”

“Yes, sir,” Waller replied for the group.

“If this sea trial proves a cross-sonar ping works, and the effective range looks interesting, then this software and the capability will be handed off to the Undersea Warfare Center to figure out how to deal with the fact it can be done and to think about deploying it as a capability across the fleet.”

“You've
got
to convince Gina to stay aboard, sir,” Daniel said. “She's got to be here to see this work.”

“I'm hoping she will stay,” Bishop agreed. “But she's trained Jeff and me on how her new software works in case she decides to leave, and she's convinced me we could handle the sea trial without her if necessary. We'll focus during the next five days on answering two questions. What's the effective range of a cross-sonar ping? And does the target hear the ping? We get those questions answered across various sea conditions, and this is going to be a good trip.”

“A fascinating five days,” Daniel concurred.

“You said the ladies were eventually heading to the officers' wardroom?” Bishop asked.

“Yes.”

Bishop left the men to talk among themselves about the trial plan, and he went to find Sharon and Gina.

Gina was working on a dish of chocolate ripple ice cream. Sharon was finishing a cheeseburger and fries. Gina had found a friend, Bishop thought, listening in on their conversation as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He settled into a seat beside Gina. “We're coming up on the decision point, Gina. Would you like to stay, or do you wish to go?”

She gave it a moment of thought before she nodded. “I'm good to stay. I can't say knowing we're diving is going to be pleasant, but I'll cope. The
Nebraska
is a huge place, Bishop, and crowded.”

“Boomers are the nicest subs in the fleet. A fast-attack is a bit tighter.”

“What can I get you, Commander?” the petty officer serving the wardroom asked.

“A cheeseburger and fries look fine, thanks.”

Bishop picked up the phone on the wall. “Captain, Bishop. Take us under at your discretion. A shallow angle, for our guest's comfort, please.”