Robert Ludlum - Covert One Series Omnibus by Ludlum Robert & Robert Ludlum

Author:Ludlum, Robert & Robert Ludlum
Language: eng
Format: epub

Covert One 4 - The Altman Code

Chapter Twenty-Three.

The Arabian Sea.

In the clear air of late morning in the southern Arabian Sea, the day’s heat was beginning to build as Lieutenant (jg) Moses Canfield leaned on the aft rail enjoying the fresh air before he went below for his watch in the communications-and-control nerve center of the John Crowe. The Empress, which they had been shadowing for close to twenty-four hours, was hull up on the horizon, still making a steady course for Basra. Only the officers knew where the Empress was heading and what she was supposed to be carrying, and they had been ordered to tell no one. The secrecy somehow made Can-field’s nerves worse. He had found it difficult to sleep last night.

Now he was reluctant to go below. He had always been a little claustrophobic, which had prevented him from considering the submarine service, and his imagination was working overtime. He imagined himself trapped belowdecks as the Crowe absorbed a direct missile hit and plunged to the bottom within seconds, taking everyone with it. He shivered in the day’s growing heat and told himself to get a grip.

His nervousness had not been helped by the firm lecture from Commander Chervenko about waiting patiently and alertly when shadowing a ship until one was sure it was really changing course and not simply going on a brief side venture.

“Never jump to conclusions about the actions of the enemy, Lieutenant,” Chervenko had told him. “Get information before committing your ship.

Put yourself in the other man’s position and consider what he would do.

Finally, always be sure of your identifications.”

“Aye-aye, sir,” Canfield had answered. He was mortified and a shade angry at the commander.

The touch of anger, as it so often did, refocused Canfield’s mind and, at least temporarily, chased away his claustrophobia as he looked at his watch, turned from the rail, and hurried below to his post in the cramped communications-and-control center.

Radar man OS2 Fred Baum was leaning back in his chair, drinking a Diet Coke. There had been nothing on the screen except the Empress since late yesterday. The Crowe was in action, and the excitement of pursuit, which had sustained Canfield’s people for most of the last twenty-four hours, was exhausted. Now they faced another day with only a blip on the radar or, when on deck, a distant silhouette. Boredom was becoming a danger.

Canfield decided to give them a version of the captain’s lecture. “All right, people, let’s shape it up. The Empress skipper could make a move any damn time. Don’t jump to conclusions about the actions of another ship. It all may look routine, but she can turn on you in a second. We can’t be sure what the Chinese have aboard or what they have in mind.

They might have a big gun or missiles, too. Always think every second about what could be in the mind of the enemy skipper.”

“Aye-aye, sir.”

“Sorry, Lieutenant. You’re right.”

“Wish they’d do some damn thing.”

“You can say that again.”

“I mean–”

“Hold it!”

The shout came from OS2 Baum at his radar monitor.

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