Weapons of Mass Deception by David Bruns

Author:David Bruns
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Reef Points Media LLC
Published: 2020-08-06T13:14:01+00:00

CHAPTER 29

Naval Station, Annapolis, Maryland

21 November 2014 – 1700 local

Brendan held his breath as the mast lifted free of the Arrogant.

The crane operator halted the lift when another gust of November wind whipped in off the Chesapeake Bay. The shipyard worker tending the line leaned back to counter the force of the stiff breeze. The mast steadied.

Slowly, moving inches at a time, they landed the butt end of the mast into the customized holder and lowered the top end down into a waiting cradle.

Brendan expelled a long breath.

“You and me both, sir,” said the man to his left. Chief Petty Officer Timothy Scott, aka Scottie, rubbed his hands together. In the military, with a name like Scott, you were invariably connected to the iconic Star Trek character. He affected a Scottish accent. “I’ll have a wee look inside tonight, sir, and see what’s the problem with the blasted receiver.”

“Scottie,” Brendan replied, “we’ve talked about this. No ‘sirs’ around here.”

Scottie blushed. “Sorry, skipper—Brendan—won’t happen again. Old habits, you know.”

“I know, Scottie. Don’t I know it.” It was true. Although he still retained his commission as a naval officer and had even been promoted to Lieutenant Commander, the idea of forgoing naval etiquette had hit him harder than he’d expected. The fact that the Naval Academy was visible across the windswept Severn didn’t make it any easier. So many memories, some of them even military.

He shifted the conversation back to work topics. “I just hope you can fix this thing. Having to order a new mast will completely screw up our schedule.”

They watched the long mast being driven away slowly toward the secure hangar. The fifty-four-foot Arrogant—she would be the largest of the Minnow fleet—looked strangely small and denuded without the pole towering over her deck.

The mast was probably one of the most advanced pieces of electronic surveillance equipment in the world. Built into the aluminum structure was a host of receivers designed to pluck any electronic transmission out of the air. Without a functional mast, the Arrogant was basically just another sailboat full of millions of dollars of worthless electronics.

“Don’t worry, Brendan,” Scottie assured him. “If anyone can fix her, it’s me. She’ll be good as new by Monday morning. This will not impact our date with the IO.”

Brendan took comfort in the fact that Scottie’s assurance had a basis in fact. As part of the Feisty Minnow program, Baxter had insisted that at least one crew member personally build each piece of specialty equipment. Scottie was their mast expert. He’d spent six months at Raytheon and at Fort Meade building and testing two masts. In fact, Scottie’s new design was so good the other sailboats in the secret fleet would be refitted with the new mast as soon as Baxter found the budget for it.

Brendan checked his watch. Another fifteen minutes and he needed to leave to change before dinner at Marjorie’s. The thought of seeing Liz again—and Don, he reminded himself, Don would be there, too—made him excited and nervous at the same time.

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