As Montgomery and the rest of the Fire Control Tracking Party attempted to discern the convoy’s new course and speed, their torpedo went active.

“Tube One has enabled,” Jescovitch called out. He followed up a moment later with, “Detect!” indicating their torpedo had detected an object that required further evaluation. Several seconds later, Jescovitch announced, “Homing!”

Wilson stopped by the Weapon Launch Console, evaluating the tactical picture. The torpedo couldn’t discern which of the five surface ships it was homing on, but Wilson’s crew could. The symbol representing their MK 48 torpedo was closing rapidly on Master four. It was homing on one of the Russian warships.

“Pre-enable tube One,” Wilson announced.

Jescovitch complied, turning their torpedo’s sonar off. Their weapon would now continue traveling directly ahead, with homing and detonation disabled.

After evaluating the course the convoy had turned to and its new speed — twenty-eight knots — Wilson directed, “Insert torpedo steer, right sixty.”

The steer was sent to the torpedo over its guidance wire and the torpedo executed the order, turning back onto an intercept course with the convoy. Wilson monitored the torpedo’s journey until it passed beneath the two nearest Russian warships. It now had a clear path toward the merchant.

“Command enable tube One,” Wilson ordered.

Lieutenant Jescovitch complied, sending the command to the torpedo, turning on its sonar and handing decision-making over to the torpedo again.

It immediately detected the merchant ship looming ahead, then transitioned to homing. It closed the remaining distance, and the first indication their torpedo had detonated was Jescovitch’s report.

“Loss of guidance wire, tube One!”

A few seconds later, Wilson heard the deep rumbling of a torpedo explosion traveling through the water and Michigan’s hull.

Shortly thereafter, Sonar announced, “Breaking-up noises from Master one.”

Tension in the Control Room began to fade now that they had evaded both lightweight torpedoes and sunk their target of interest. Then another report from Sonar blared across the speakers.

“Torpedo launch transients, correlating to Master six.” The report was followed shortly by, “Torpedo in the water, bearing zero-four-zero!”

Wilson had temporarily ignored the Russian nuclear attack submarine, supposedly being distracted by Jimmy Carter. However, the sinking merchant ship had garnered the attention of the Russian crew; they had realized the convoy was under attack and had counterfired. Whether Jimmy Carter or Michigan was the target, Wilson didn’t know.

There wasn’t time to determine which submarine had been targeted. That could be sorted out later. They were dealing with a heavyweight torpedo this time, which was much faster and could travel significantly farther than a lightweight.

“Helm, ahead flank! Left full rudder, steady course two-eight-zero. Launch countermeasures!”

71

FAIRFAX, VIRGINIA

With her eyes still focused on Harrison, Khalila said, “I know how this looks, but I’m on your side.”

“You have a strange way of showing it,” he replied.

“I have to do it this way. I need you to stay out of this.”

“Stay out of what?”

“Remember the conversation we had in Sochi, about how you intervened in the Mixell issue in Afghanistan, making things worse?”

Harrison nodded.

“I need you to stay out of this,” she said again as she turned her attention to Rolow. “This is between me and the DDO.”

Harrison stared at Khalila, trying to make sense of what she was saying.

“Do you agree?” she asked.

“All right. I’ll stay out of it.”

Khalila holstered the pistol she had pointed at Harrison, keeping the other weapon aimed at the DDO.

Rolow put his hands on his hips. “What’s this about, Khalila?”

She reached behind her back and pulled out a transceiver that had been clipped to her skirt. She tossed it to the DDO, who caught it in both hands.

“Recognize this?” she asked.

Rolow examined it for a few seconds. “Looks like an older-model agency field radio.”

“Correct. Did you misplace it?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s the radio that was on bin Laden’s desk. I took it from the agency storage facility today and ran the serial number. It’s your radio. Care to explain?”

“There must be a mistake. It’s not my radio.”

“It’s your radio, all right. Let me theorize how it got onto bin Laden’s desk; perhaps it will jog your memory. You had an exceptional record as a Middle East field officer, isn’t that right?”

Rolow nodded. “I did well.”

“You did better than well. You were the best-performing field officer in the history of the agency, single-handedly responsible for thwarting over a dozen al-Qaeda and ISIS terrorist attacks. You were appropriately recognized, rising through the agency ranks to become the youngest DDO ever, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“So, about your uncanny ability to obtain intelligence leads that disrupted terrorist attacks — were you good or just lucky?”

“I suppose — ”