Black Sea Affair

CHAPTER 32

The Al Alamein

Gulf of Finland

Twenty-four hours later

They appeared like dragonflies buzzing the eastern sky – two drab-green military helicopters billowing slight trails of black smoke in their wake.

They grew larger and their rotary sound increased.

A quartet of fighter planes accompanied the choppers. One jet flew out front. One flew at the three o'clock position. The third flew at nine o'clock, and the fourth flew in the rear.

The lead fighter flew directly over the ship, sporting a red star under each of its wings. Two other fighters, not part of the quartet that accompanied the helicopters, were orbiting the ship, keeping a watchful eye on the happenings on deck. These were American F/A-18s from the aircraft carrier George W. Bush.

Just under the circling jet fighters, one of the helicopters broke off to the right, circling around on a course from whence it came.

The second chopper, also with a red star and Cyrilic writing on the side, feathered down, gently onto the deck of the ship, landing not far from the H-3 Sea King helicopter that was already sitting on the deck.

The Sea King was also olive-green, and had the word MARINES painted in white on the side along with the phrase UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

The chopper with the red star shut down its engines. The door opened. Military officers in green moved a ladder into place. Several army and navy officers of the Russian Federation stepped down, followed by a man dressed in a blue suit whose appearance was all too familiar to Mack Williams.

The man, slim and handsome, strode swiftly across the deck and extended his hand.

"You suggested a shipboard summit, Mr. President?" President Vit-aly Evtimov spoke in crisp English but showed no signs of warmth in his face. Mack remembered that his Russian counterpart had mastered English as an intelligence officer in the old KGB-turned-FSB.

"Churchill and Roosevelt once met on a battleship for a summit in the Atlantic during World War Two, " Mack said.

"Somehow, a freighter does not have the same majesty as a battleship, " the Russian president said. "Besides, I am sure you did not call me here to discuss history." Evtimov pulled his hand away. "Especially not the history of the English-speaking people."

Mack nodded and shot the Russian a smile. "I asked you to come, sir, because I believe we have something that may belong to you."

"I thought that may be the case, " Evtimov said.

"Did you bring your nuclear team?"

"I have done as you have asked."

"Thank you, " Mack said, silently praying for a thawing in the man's heart. "If you are ready, sir, my men will lead you and your team below deck. I will remain topside to give you privacy."

"Very well, " Evtimov said. He disappeared below deck with a contingent of U.S. Navy SEALs and Russian nuclear scientists.

Thirty minutes later, the first Navy SEAL came back up from below decks. He was followed by several of the Russian scientists and military officers, followed by the president of the Russian Republic.

Evtimov walked toward Mack, his black eyes locked onto the American president. "It appears this freighter was headed to St. Petersburg, and that detonation of that device even from here would have destroyed the city."

"Yes, Mr. President, " Mack said. "We are convinced of that. They were about to detonate the hydrogen bomb stored below."

Evtimov looked away, then turned and looked toward the east, toward Russia's most storied and beautiful city. A moment later, the Russian president looked back at Mack.

Evtimov extended his hand. "The Russian Republic extends its thanks to the United States Navy for its assistance in helping to recover property that was stolen from the Russian Army."

Mack clasped Evtimov's hand. "We also have a pilot who belongs to you, Mr. President. We would like to send him home."

The Russian nodded. "And I believe we have a submarine crew that may wish to go home before the onset of the harsh Russian winter. I will have my staff work out the arrangements."

"Will you come to Washington? I'd like to take you to dinner."

Evtimov smiled. "If you will meet me in St. Petersburg. After all, I believe your Navy helped us save it."

"Do you believe in God, Mr. President?"

Evtimov paused. "I believe that the State is God."

Mack smiled. "I encourage you to rethink your position."

"Oh? How so?" Finally, a smile, although slight, from the Russian.

"It was not the state that saved millions of your people. It was not even the United States Navy or the Navy SEALs."

"No?" A curious look from the Russian. "Then I suppose God did all this?"

"Only the hand of God, Mr. President. Only the hand of God allowed our SEALs to board this vessel and shoot through the connection wires to that bomb – even as its creator was pushing the detonator. Less than a quarter of a second, Mr. President. Our bullets riddled the connection lines to that bomb less than a quarter of a second before the terrorist that built it pushed the detonator. That bomb blown this close to St. Petersburg would've made Hiroshima look like an amusement park. This was all stopped only by the hand of God Almighty."

The Russian's smile broke into a grin, then morphed back into the cold face that had arrived on board over an hour ago. "I will keep that in mind."

"I will pray that you do."

Embassy of the United States of America Moscow, Russia

The oppressive feeling of horror had subsided, and for that, Masha was grateful. Because of the events of the last twenty-four hours, she had found favor with the Americans, who now believed everything she had told them. A visa was being prepared allowing her to visit the United States. For her, this was a dream come true! She would be sure to find her missionary friends, the Allisons, and their seven children, who lived somewhere in North Carolina.

After that, somehow, someway, she would return to Russia and find Dima. No matter how long it took, she would put her faith in God that she and Dima would be together again, and that she would find a way to get him to America.

Even still, she could not shake her concern for the American sub commander whose torpedoes, ironically, had saved her life. From the guest lounge of the embassy, she found herself checking with CNN at least every half hour for updates. She checked her watch, and unmuted the television, where the American newsman Tom Miller appeared on the screen, along with the translated text.

"This is Tom Miller in Washington.

"In a surprising turn of events, the White House and the Kremlin have each issued statements within the last hour announcing that the majority of all American and Russian military forces in the Chechen-Turkish theater are withdrawing from the area.

"The White House confirms that the majority of United States forces built up in Turkey will be returned, including the heralded 82nd Airborne Division, and NATO military overflights over Georgia will cease immediately.

"At the same time, the Kremlin announced that all its divisions would commence withdrawal from Chechnya, pulling back to a point north of Volvograd.

"The Kremlin also announced that Russia was dismissing all charges against Commander Pete Miranda and his crew. The U.S. Navy confirmed that Miranda, the crew, along with defense counsel Lieutenant Commander Zack Brewer would be flown to Oceana Naval Air Station later in the week.

"Neither the U.S. nor Russia have offered a full explanation for all this, other than to say that an understanding was worked out between Presidents Williams and Evtimov at an undisclosed location, believed to be somewhere in Europe.

"The White House confirmed that such a meeting did occur, and that the world should be grateful to God that much was accomplished between the old rivals to promote peace.

"The Vatican praised today's developments, with Pope Benedict issuing a statement quoting from Jesus' Sermon on the Mount. Said the Pope, 'Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.' "

Oceana Naval Air Station Virginia Beach, Virginia

The large Air Force transport circled low over the vast expanse of the Oceana Naval Air Station. From his window seat just in front of the left wing, Pete Miranda looked down, where a large crowd of civilians, military, and press were gathered near the tarmac. The plane swooped down toward the runway, and after the thump of the plane's rubber wheels against the concrete, the hangars and grounded F-18 jet aircraft of the Oceana Naval Air Station rushed by in a blur.

Captain Ann Glover, the U.S. Naval Attache to Russia, stood at the front of the plane.

"Gentlemen, remember our protocol for debarkation. Lieutenant Commander Brewer will exit first, and then we will pause for a few minutes and bring Commander Miranda and the crew off."

The thought of home.

Would he see them? He prayed silently that they would be there for him.

Captain Glover motioned Zack and Pete to the front of the plane. They stood by the door, as flight attendants threw open the door just behind the cockpit.

The warm Virginia breeze and sunlight filled the cabin, and a large crowd of several thousand stood in a huge semicircle behind a large yellow ribbon. The crowd was holding a large, long, red, white, and blue sign that stretched about thirty feet from left to right.

Welcome Home Commander Miranda and Crew of USS Honolulu.

Tears welled in Pete's eyes.

"Remember, no comments to the press!" Captain Glover said. "Okay, Zack, get out of here."

From the top of the plane, Pete watched as his JAG officer, dressed sharply in his ser vice dress blue uniform, made his way down the steps. Zack reached the tarmac and shot a salute to two admirals at the base of the plane.

Pete recognized one of the admirals as Vice Admiral Charles McClure, commander of U.S. submarine forces in the Atlantic Fleet. McClure caught Pete's eye with a nod and a smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen, " a voice resonated from a loudspeaker. "Please give a big Navy welcome home to Commander Pete Miranda, and the crew of the USS Honolulu!"

The crowd broke into cheering and applause. The Navy band broke into a brassy rendition of "Anchors Aweigh."

"That's your cue, Commander!" Captain Glover said.

Pete waved as he descended the stairway. The crowd cheered even harder. He reached the bottom, directing a salute to Vice Admiral McClure.

McClure returned the salute. "The Navy is proud of you, Pete. You did the right thing."

"Thank you, Admiral." Pete waited for the admiral to drop his salute.

"There's someone else who's proud of you too."

"Sir?"

The admiral motioned to the right of the human horseshoe.

A boy and a girl stepped from the edge of the crowd, then sprinted with open arms across the tarmac.

"Hannah! Coley!" Pete fell to his knees. His children fell into his arms.

"We missed you, Daddy!" Hannah hugged him and kissed him over and over again on the cheeks. "We were so scared you would never come back!"

"Can you stay with us for a while?" Coley's eyes flooded with tears.

"Come here, you two!" Pete wrapped them both under his arms and kissed them both on the head. "I'll never leave you again."

"You promise, Daddy?" Hannah looked up at him. At thirteen, she was becoming a lovely young lady. How had he let the time slip away?

"I promise, Hannah, that I'll never miss another one of your dance recitals." He looked at his son. "And Coley, I'll be at all your soccer games from here on."

"But how will you be at my games if the Navy sends you out in your submarine again?"

Pete stood, running his hands through his kids' hair. "Because tomorrow, kids, I'm putting in my papers. I'm retiring from the Navy."

"Really?" they exclaimed in unison.

"Really. We'll be together forever, kids." He kissed them once more.

"Forever."