Day 165: 13 Jan 2011
We caught up to the God of the Seas off the coast of Spain this morning. He's moving pretty damn fast. We're in a nuclear-powered submarine and barely keeping up. Unless he slows down, we won't be able to fire our weapons at all. I'd hate to be stuck out here, just on his tail, forever. We need a new tactic.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Day One Hundred and Sixty-Four
Day 164: 12 Jan 2011
We were starting to think Eric was jerking us around. Midnight came and went, but Drake was a no-show. Finally, around 1:30, we said "Fuck it" and left.
Briggs had to check in at Nellis, so I was on my own. I headed for my apartment. When I got there, Eric Drake was sitting on my couch.
"Good," he said. "You lost the spook. Now we can talk like normal folks."
I wanted to explain that Briggs wasn't a spook, he was Air Force, but Drake didn't give me a chance.
"Ready to go?" he asked.
"Where?"
"Out North. To where the Russians have your boy."
"Lead on," I said.
We were starting to think Eric was jerking us around. Midnight came and went, but Drake was a no-show. Finally, around 1:30, we said "Fuck it" and left.
Briggs had to check in at Nellis, so I was on my own. I headed for my apartment. When I got there, Eric Drake was sitting on my couch.
"Good," he said. "You lost the spook. Now we can talk like normal folks."
I wanted to explain that Briggs wasn't a spook, he was Air Force, but Drake didn't give me a chance.
"Ready to go?" he asked.
"Where?"
"Out North. To where the Russians have your boy."
"Lead on," I said.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Day One Hundred and Sixty-Three
Day 163: 11 Jan 2011
It looked like a normal commercial flight at Louis Armstrong, but Briggs and I were the only passengers. We landed in Las Vegas at 10 p.m., and were met by an unmarked black Dodge Charger. We didn't go through Security at either airport.
"Where are we supposed to meet your guy?" Briggs asked, accepting a small gun -- an MP5 -- from the Charger's driver.
"Bellagio," I said. "Midnight."
"You heard the lady," Briggs told the driver, and the Charger burned rubber out onto the Strip.
It looked like a normal commercial flight at Louis Armstrong, but Briggs and I were the only passengers. We landed in Las Vegas at 10 p.m., and were met by an unmarked black Dodge Charger. We didn't go through Security at either airport.
"Where are we supposed to meet your guy?" Briggs asked, accepting a small gun -- an MP5 -- from the Charger's driver.
"Bellagio," I said. "Midnight."
"You heard the lady," Briggs told the driver, and the Charger burned rubber out onto the Strip.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Day One Hundred and Sixty-Two
Day 162: 10 Jan 2011
The Air Force dropped me off at Pope Air Force base in North Carolina yesterday and set me up with a ride. A nice young Airman named Briggs was assigned to drive me to New Orleans. The kid was all of about 12, but he was pleasant enough. We rode in one of the military's bone-stock unmarked Dodge Chargers, making pleasant small talk on the 15-hour drive to Louisiana.
That is, until my phone rang. I checked the caller ID -- it said "Unknown," but I answered it anyway.
"Hello?"
"Cassie. Eric Drake. Remember me?"
"Sure. What's up, Eric?"
"I'm back in Vegas. Business is getting underway again here. There's talk. The Russians are saying they've seen your guy Jared around."
"How solid is your intel?"
Shit. Hanging out with Black too much. I'm starting to sound like one of these Special Operations guys.
"Pretty solid. Russians are piss-scared. West Coast guys, too."
I covered the mouthpiece and turned to Briggs.
"How fast can you get us to Las Vegas?"
"I'll make a call," Briggs told me.
The Air Force dropped me off at Pope Air Force base in North Carolina yesterday and set me up with a ride. A nice young Airman named Briggs was assigned to drive me to New Orleans. The kid was all of about 12, but he was pleasant enough. We rode in one of the military's bone-stock unmarked Dodge Chargers, making pleasant small talk on the 15-hour drive to Louisiana.
That is, until my phone rang. I checked the caller ID -- it said "Unknown," but I answered it anyway.
"Hello?"
"Cassie. Eric Drake. Remember me?"
"Sure. What's up, Eric?"
"I'm back in Vegas. Business is getting underway again here. There's talk. The Russians are saying they've seen your guy Jared around."
"How solid is your intel?"
Shit. Hanging out with Black too much. I'm starting to sound like one of these Special Operations guys.
"Pretty solid. Russians are piss-scared. West Coast guys, too."
I covered the mouthpiece and turned to Briggs.
"How fast can you get us to Las Vegas?"
"I'll make a call," Briggs told me.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Day One Hundred and Sixty-One
Day 161: 09 Jan 2011
Boredom under the seas, day three. We actually had a sonar contact today, but it turned out to be nothing. Just a big Russian sub crawling along at low speed. It was out of its territory, but so were we, so we both ignored each other.
I'm beginning to think it would be faster if I just launched myself out of a torpedo tube and went looking on my own.
Boredom under the seas, day three. We actually had a sonar contact today, but it turned out to be nothing. Just a big Russian sub crawling along at low speed. It was out of its territory, but so were we, so we both ignored each other.
I'm beginning to think it would be faster if I just launched myself out of a torpedo tube and went looking on my own.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Day One Hundred and Sixty
Day 160: 08 Jan 2011
You ever spent a couple of days on a submarine? It's pretty boring, trust me. I read a lot today, and that's it.
You ever spent a couple of days on a submarine? It's pretty boring, trust me. I read a lot today, and that's it.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Day One Hundred and Fifty-Nine
Day 159: 7 Jan 2011
Aboard the submarine, Black handed me a uniform and a pack with safety gear in it.
"No thanks," I said. "If this thing gets sunk, I'm in better shape than any of you."
He shrugged and mumbled something.
"So, what do we do here?" I asked. "Just hang out and wait?"
"Pretty much," Black said. "The God of the Seas, he ain't small. He can't hide for very long. The crew is all briefed, so they'll page when they see him."
They didn't. Not today, anyway.
Aboard the submarine, Black handed me a uniform and a pack with safety gear in it.
"No thanks," I said. "If this thing gets sunk, I'm in better shape than any of you."
He shrugged and mumbled something.
"So, what do we do here?" I asked. "Just hang out and wait?"
"Pretty much," Black said. "The God of the Seas, he ain't small. He can't hide for very long. The crew is all briefed, so they'll page when they see him."
They didn't. Not today, anyway.
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