Come Alive Ch 15

Taggart pulled out the log and scanned the instruments at the chart table -- everything was pulling information except the GPS, and the position display on all the chart plotters read the same: No Signal. The satellites would come back online in two days, so in the meantime, he was running a dead-reckoning plot on a paper chart-- which on these mirror-calm seas was a cinch.

He'd looked aft about an hour after picking up Mike and seen the pod following along about a quarter-mile behind, and Rosa had come up looking for them. He noticed that, too. She had started walking around by midday, pushing herself more than he thought necessary, but he soon realized she had come up looking for them -- because the connection she'd made was strong, atypically strong, and even Erika noticed the change in her mother.

He tried to condense all this 'stuff' in his noon log entry, but something was gnawing away in a dark corner of his mind -- then it hit him: even at 55 degrees north latitude it was hot outside. Not warm...hot. Real hot. He pulled up the sea temp and found it near normal, 48 degrees F, but the OAT, or Outside Air Temp was 95F, and even running with all the hatches open was leaving the interior stiflingly warm. With Eva's pregnancy and Rosa's current state wearing on him, he went below and shut all the hatches and fired up the air conditioner -- something he'd never even imagined doing before. He looked at the Amp draw and seemed satisfied, but the idea of a sailboat equipped with an air conditioner running at sea bothered him. It just wasn't right...but what if this was the new normal?

He finished his log entry and went topsides for a moment, checked on Mike at the wheel.

"How you doing?" he asked.

"I can't get over this heat," Mike sighed. "Something ain't right."

"Super high-pressure system, I reckon."

Mike scanned the horizon then shook his head. "Not one goddamn cloud. We getting any kind of weather information yet?"

Taggart shook his head.

"Well, I got to hand it to you, Taggart. If your intent was to take civilization back to the Stone Age, you've succeeded admirably."

"The intent was to get you boys to sit back and take stock of the situation before you flipped the switch and sent all your missiles off with a one-way ticket to hell."

"Interesting."

"What's interesting?"

"You said 'the intent,' not 'my intent.'"

"Stop digging, would you? You're like a fugitive now, so just chill out."

"Sorry...you're right. Diesel is getting decent mileage, by the way. You could run under power almost all the way to Iceland if you needed, so why Bergen?"

"Rosa. Chemotherapy."

Mike nodded. "Then back south to the Seine? By the way, your hands are shaking pretty good. What's up with that?"

"Parkinson's."

"Jesus H Christ, Taggart...what were you thinking -- doing this alone, out here by yourself?"

"Hey, just livin' the dream, Amigo..."

"The dream? Sounds kind of like a death wish, if you ask me..."

"That's funny, because -- you know what? -- I can't remember asking you."

"You do like putting me in my place, don't you?"

"No, not really. And I think I've mentioned this before, but I could really do without a lot of this bullshit -- if you don't mind."

"Just comes naturally, I'm afraid."

"Oh, I get that."

Mike peered at the chart plotter for a moment... "The radar just turned off."

"Probably drawing too much power," Taggart said as he slipped down the companionway. "You running the autopilot, too?" he called out.

"No, not for a while...!"

Taggart cycled the breaker, but nothing changed on the display down below, so he turned off the chart plotter and watched the ammeter dip and re-stabilize. "Power down your plotter!" The ammeter dipped and re-stabilized again, so he went back to the cockpit. "We've got plenty of power, so I'm not sure what's going on."

"Some jammers intentionally overload radar displays," Mike said, looking aft again. "You don't want to be a bird and fly through that crud, either."

"So, you think..."

"It's possible. Yeah."

"Shipborne or airborne?"

"Usually big ship-mounted things, but some are on Growlers."

"So...someone out here could be jamming us as they..."

"As they make their approach," Mike said, looking at Taggart. "Probably not a good idea to run the radar now, know what I mean?"

"Maybe cycle at irregular intervals?"

Mike shook his head. "Ineffective, and besides, we won't be able to outrun anything in this boat."

"So...we sit back and see what happens. Ready for lunch?"

"Sure."

"Some salads and a little wine?"

"No alcohol for me...not in this sun. I'd pass out in ten minutes flat."

"Okay. Water it is."

They were eating in the cockpit ten minutes later when a low flying jet came up from the rear; it passed along their port side just short of supersonic and in just a few seconds disappeared beyond the northern horizon.

"What the hell was that?" Taggart said.

"EA-18G Growler, airborne ECM platform. That's what was burning our radar...and I wonder where he's headed?"

"Probably a carrier, right?"

Mike nodded. "Pretty good assumption, and at his speed and altitude -- it better not be too far away." He paused, seemed to think for a moment. "Any reason why big ships shouldn't be operating?"

Taggart shook his head. "Just no nukes."

"Russian too?"

"Mike, yes -- just no nukes."

"If command and control nets are down, ground forces might assume the worst and..."

"Yes," Taggart said, "they certainly will."

"You don't know what I'm going to say...so why do you..."

"You were going to say 'lash out,' right?"

"Yeah...but how'd you know that...and don't give me that 'you're so predictable' bullshit, 'cause I ain't buyin' that again."

"Okay. Let's see here: you're not predictable and I guessed you'd say that. Sound about right to you now?"

Mike looked away. "Why'd you help me get off that island?"

"Oh, you know...something about 'keep your friends close, and your enemies closer still' -- that crossed my mind."

"I'm not your enemy, Taggart. I'm just not real sure who, or even what you are."

Henry sighed, got up picked up their dishes, and disappeared down the companionway. He cleaned up the galley and went forward, found Rosa and Erika deep in conversation so he dropped into Eva's stateroom. She was knitting baby socks and listening to music on headphones but she looked up and smiled when she saw him.

"Henry! You have gotten too much sun1 You are as red as a plum1"

"I feel like I burned the top of my head."

"Do you have any aloe? You should let me rub it in before the skin is too damaged."

"I'll get it, but just in case you need it, I keep it in the back 'fridge."

He came back with the gel and sat beside Eva.

"Take off your shirt...your neck and shoulders are a mess!"

He pulled his shirt off and she poured some of the goop into her hand and she gently massaged it in...

"Crap...that stuff is really cold as hell..."

"Just wait, the cool will feel soothing in a moment."

"Oh, don't get me wrong...it already feels good." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then spoke again, only more softly this time. "Maybe it feels good because of who is rubbing it in, you know?"

"Do you know how often I dream of you?" she sighed. "Even when I am not asleep, Henry, I still dream of you."

"I know. I love the way I feel when you are near me. It feels like some kind of shared polarity, almost like there is an attraction that pulls us together."

"We vibrate at the same frequency, Henry."

He smiled. "Maybe that's it."

"Can you not see that?"

"No, so sorry. I doubt I'm as far along the evolutionary ladder as you, Eva."

"Now there you go again, making fun of me..." she said as she kissed the top of his head. "There...I think you will survive."

"You know, I'd love you even if you weren't so cute."

"Oh, I know."

"Nothing like self-confidence..." he grinned as he looked her in the eye.

"It is not that, Henry Taggart. It is the story in your eyes."

"And I'm just a singer in a rock-n-roll band..."

"No, you are a moody blue."

They laughed at these little inside jokes -- because as she listened to The Moody Blues -- literally almost all the time -- he had started to play this music when she was aboard.

"Are you eating enough? Doesn't look like you're gaining much weight?"

"I could eat more but I am nauseated nearly all the time now."

"Still?"

She nodded. "I think because there are two boys in the oven, you know? Perhaps they are already playing football."

"More than likely."

"Before you met me, who did you dream about?"

He smiled. "Doris Day."

"The actress? Really?"

"Yes, but probably not for the reason you think."

"Oh? Well then, tell me why?"

"When I was a little boy..."

"I know, you watched her movies and fell in love with her!"

"Almost. She lived in the house next door..."

"Truly?"

He nodded. "Truly. A place called Lido Isle, in Newport Beach. That's in California, by the way. John Wayne lived near my house too, but Doris Day lived, literally, right next door to our house. Anyway, when my dad and I would come in from races..."

"Races? What, you went to car races?"

"No, my dad and I, usually with some of his friends, raced his sailboat -- called Bandit. That's how I learned to sail, but anyway, when we came in from those races she would often be on her patio -- and she was always playing with one of her pups -- and she always asked me how we did. The first few times I was so nervous I could hardly even make eye contact with her, but pretty soon I looked forward to seeing her and talking with her."

"Wow, that is pretty cool..."

"Yeah. Well, considering she was always considered the perfect 'girl next door' it was a riot to really have her as the girl next door. Anyway, ever since I was a kid she's always been in my dreams, and I hate to break your bubble but she still is..."

"Really? After so long?"

"Yup. Old habits die hard I guess."

"What do you remember most about her, besides these conversations?"

He closed his eyes and thought for a moment, then he smiled: "She had this kind of trademark song -- Que Sera, Sera -- from an Alfred Hitchcock movie, of all things -- and she would sing back there while she planted flowers in her little garden. My bedroom window overlooked her backyard so of course I always heard her sing whenever she was out there, and when I was still pretty young I would just kind of sit there and listen..."

"That sounds almost magical..."

"Maybe that's why I still dream of her."

"I think maybe she was your first true love," Eva said, smiling at his opening up to her.

He nodded. "I think maybe you're right. When she passed I cried for quite a while; no one would have understood why, and I guess maybe because it must seem so silly."

She sighed. "The first love is the deepest, Henry. You are lucky to have had such an unreal passion."

"You know, I think you're the first person I've ever talked to about all this. Maybe that means something, too...?"

"As I said, Henry, I've seen these feelings in your eyes. You can't conceal things like this, you know?"

"I wouldn't want to conceal that from you."

She smiled again. "So, we will be in Bergen again and this thing with Dina will come between us once again. Oh, Henry...what will become of us?"

"I've created a very complicated universe, I'm afraid."

"Please...do not apologize. I am happy to be a part of our little constellation...to have your sons and carry them forward into life...but I dislike being away from you so much..."

"This will be a difficult time, Eva, with our children coming..."

"I know. I will do what I must. What of this other woman. Rosa?"

"I must help her..."

"This I understand. What can I do to help?"

"You'll always know what is best, Eva. Just see that she finds help when she needs it."

She nodded. "And if something should happen to her?"

"Take care of the girl, please."

"Okay."

"Taggart!" they heard Mike calling out. "Better get up here!"

He kissed her and made his way up the companionway; he found Mike looking to the northwest through the binoculars.

"What's up?"

Mike handed him the binoculars and said "Take a look," as he pointed to a spot on the horizon.

Taggart swung the binoculars and spotted the naval vessel headed their way. "Well, well, well," he said, "look who's coming to dinner..."

"Look at the bow wave. Flank speed, and if you look hard you can see an ASW helo working a pattern ahead of it."

"So, working a submarine contact while beating up the water at flank speed sounds a little unusual, doesn't it?"

"How the fuck do you know that?"

Taggart shrugged. "And we assume he's prosecuting a contact that's closing on a carrier battle group, right?"

Mike shook his head. "I wish I knew who the fuck you really are."

Taggart turned and looked at him, then he shook his head. "No, you don't."

"Just tell me you're not some kind of Russian spook..."

Taggart laughed at that. "Isn't that exactly what you'd expect a Russian spy to say?"

"Well, yeah."

"Actually, I'm from The People's Republic of California."

"That explains everything."

"I knew you'd understand. What's he making...40 knots?"

"About."

"Try the radar."

"Are you kidding me?! That's the last thing we should do..."

"You'll let him know we're here."

"You think he doesn't?"

"Turn it to Standby, at least. I'm curious if it's even working now."

"Are those cylindrical things up by the spreaders radar reflectors?"

"Yup."

"Okay, then he's seen us..."

Taggart turned to hand Mike the binoculars and froze. "Uh, take the binos and put them away."

"What's wrong?"

"Just do it. At your five o'clock, maybe fifty feet away, there's a periscope. My guess is he's matching speed with us, hiding behind our radar shadow..."

"And our engine is messing up any sonar readings in this area, too. You got a VHF at the chart table, right?"

"Right. I've also got the transceiver."

"Just go to 16 and see if you can contact the bridge. Do you think they saw you looking their way?"

"I doubt it."

"Okay, give it a try."

Taggart went to the chart table and picked up the mic. "Sailing Vessel Time Bandits at 57 22 19 North, 5 34 20 East, to navy vessel northwest of our position."

"CG71 Cape St George, go ahead Time Bandits."

"Ivan is about fifty feet off our starboard quarter, glass up and hiding in our shadow."

Pause.

"Time Bandits, this is the CO. Can you advise type?"

"Possible Akula, repeat, Akula."

"Understood, Time Bandits. Please maintain your current coarse and speed, advise when he dives."

"Wilco, out." Taggart put on his sunglasses then went to the fridge and grabbed two Cokes; he went topsides, handed a Coke to Taggart while he looked at the periscope.

"Make contact?"

"Yup. Maintain current coarse and speed."

"Okay."

Taggart looked aft and saw his friend's dorsal fin cutting through the water, then he sighed as he looked down. "Are we at war, Mike?"

"You're asking me?"

"I've got some friends in the water near here. I don't want them to get hurt."

"You -- what?"

"That pod of orcas, they're now about four hundred yards astern."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me, Taggart..."

Henry shook his head. "Nope."

"Well, if you can tell 'em to get the hell out of here, right now would be the perfect time to do it...!"

Taggart took a deep breath, tried to think of another way but couldn't...

"If I told you to go below, you wouldn't, right?"

"What? Hell no I wouldn't..."

"I thought you'd say that." He took another deep breath then sat down, his knees crossed, his arms out, his head tilted back...

"Taggart...? What the fuck..."

But Taggart's mind was someplace else now...though his body was still on Time Bandits, and when Mike turned and looked at the Cape St George for a moment the same spinning red orb appeared in front of Taggart's face again. When Mike saw it now he flinched, then turned away from the brilliant light just as it divided into two equally sized spheres; one remained while the other streaked down into the water.

To Mike, it seemed like the light disappeared inside the submarine, then...

...he felt a deep rumble within the sea...

...and then the submarine began surfacing, hatches soon bursting open and men running out on deck, coughing as smoke poured out behind them...

"Call the St George, Mike. Tell them the sub has a reactor fire and has surfaced. Now, okay...?!"

"Cape St George, Russian submarine surfacing our location, possible reactor fire, repeat, possible reactor fire. Men on deck...wait one...we now see men in the water...need a helo this location now!"

Taggart was still sitting, and the other sphere was still pulsing right in front of his face.

And right then Mike wanted to destroy Taggart -- and whatever that thing was. 'If he can do that to a submarine, what can't he do...?"

Then Mike heard emergency klaxons wailing inside the sub's hull...

...and the original sphere streaked away down Time Bandit's trailing wake.

And a moment later Taggart stood and took the mic. "Cape St George, the Akula is taking on water, going down fast by the stern. Forty-plus men currently in the water."

"Uh, Time Bandits, we're picking up some unusual radar activity in your vicinity..."

"Cycle your SPY-1A from active to passive and back to active. That should resolve the issue."

"Stand by one."

"Standing by."

"Bandits, St George, thanks, all clear now."

"Okay St George, the sub is going under now, we have men swimming our way. ETA helos?"

"About a minute."

Taggart flipped the mic to PA mode and began speaking to the men in the water -- in perfect Russian: "Attention, crew of the Russian submarine Gepard. Rescue helicopters will be on-site within one minute. Form rescue circles as per your training and standby. Do not approach the sailing vessel at this time, repeat, do not approach the sailing vessel."

The men in the water formed circles of ten men each and began treading water; seconds later the first American helicopter arrived and dropped several large MOB canisters into the water. Seconds later huge life rafts deployed and the men began swimming to the boarding webbing.

When Taggart looked at Mike he saw death in the man's eyes -- as if he wanted to commit murder -- and Taggart smiled.

"What in God's name did you just do?" the navy captain asked.

"I didn't do anything, Mike."

"The Hell you didn't."

"No, seriously, I did nothing."

"Fuck you."

"Alter course a little to the left, would you? I want to put some distance between us and those men."

"Are you even a human being?"

Taggart laughed again. "If you prick us, do we not bleed?"

"So, you know some Shakespeare. Who the fuck are you?"

"I told you. A Californian."

"Sorry, but Californians can't do what you just did..."

"Wanna bet?"

"What?"

"Anyone can do what I just did, even you. You just don't know how."

"You just took out a nuclear submarine, you mother-fucker..."

"Again, Mike -- no -- I did not."

"Wait a minute...you had a run-in with another Russian sub back in June, didn't you?"

Taggart nodded, willing him to make the connection.

"And did you...?"

"Yes, the same thing -- I guess you could say -- happened. And again, I was not responsible for what happened that day."

"Just like you are not the one..."

"That's right."

"What's your game, Taggart? What are you up to?"

"My game is to make it to Paris for Christmas, Mike, so I can die in the company of my fondest memories."

"Bullshit!"

"No, Mike, it's not -- and please, don't piss me off right now."

"Why not, Taggart? Will you do to me what you just did to that sub?"