High Alert

CHAPTER 1

Nick Carter parked outside Project Headquarters under a dark sky spitting flurries of snow. The sun was nowhere to be seen. It was only the first week of December, but the weather was well into another miserable East Coast winter. He stepped out of the warmth of the car and the cold slapped him, making him feel every one of his forty-two years. By the time he reached the entrance of the building and waited for the identity scan, his old wounds were aching.

He took off his coat and hung it on a Victorian style hall rack and mirror in the entry foyer. The face staring back at him from the mirror had dark circles under the eyes. He hadn't had much sleep in the last weeks. Not since he'd returned from Syria. Nick peered at his reflection and rubbed the scarred end of his left ear, where the lobe had been sacrificed to a Chinese bullet.

Touches of gray had begun showing up in his hair. He'd decided to let it grow a little and was still getting used to the new look. He wasn't getting used to the gray.

His boss was in Walter Reed, in a coma after a car accident that had almost killed her. No one was sure when Elizabeth Harker would wake up. Until she returned Nick was in charge of the project with Stephanie Willits, Harker's deputy. He'd come in early to try and get a handle on the day. He went into Harker's office and sat down at her desk.

A huge orange tomcat strolled over and rubbed against Nick's leg, shedding hair over the gray carpet. The cat purred, a loud rumble that reminded Nick of a miniature Mack truck.

"Hey, Burps. Hungry?"

The cat looked up and drooled and purred. Nick stood and went to a cabinet by the coffee machine and took out a can of cat food. He opened it up, dumped the food in a dish and set it on the floor with a bowl of water. He turned on the coffee and went back to the desk while Burps began gulping down breakfast. While he waited for the coffee to brew, Nick leaned back in Elizabeth's chair and closed his eyes, fighting off fatigue.

Ever since he'd returned from Syria, things had been in turmoil. The mission had been difficult enough. The aftermath had been confusing. Something had changed, but he wasn't sure what it was. The closest he could come was that he felt a little less pessimistic about what was happening in the world, a little more hopeful that somehow things would work out.

Running the Project meant endless mental tasks that took time and concentration. A mistake in judgment could cost lives, even contribute to starting a war. Nick thought it was a lot clearer in the field, when people were shooting at you. Then you knew what you had to do. This was different. It would've been overwhelming except for help from Clarence Hood, Director of the CIA.

The Project's relationship with Langley had been contentious for years, until the former director had been exposed as a traitor and Hood had taken over. In recent weeks, Hood and Elizabeth Harker had gotten involved in a relationship that went beyond their professional interaction.

The CIA and the Project were bound together in more ways than one. Stephanie was married to Lucas Monroe, the Director of National Clandestine Services at Langley.

Damn near incestuous, Nick thought.

The smell of coffee filled the office. Nick pulled himself out of the chair, went to the counter and poured a cup. He walked over to the patio doors with the cup in his hand and looked out over the grounds. The flowerbeds had retreated into winter mode, brown and sere, poking through a covering of snow from the last storm.

The flurries had changed to snow. Nick sipped his coffee and looked up at the row of clocks on the wall across from the desk. The rest of the Project team would arrive sometime during the next hour.

The secured phone on the desk signaled a call. Nick looked at the blinking light.

Langley. Here we go, he thought. He picked up.

"This is Carter."

"Good morning, Nick, although it could be better." It was Clarence Hood. "We have a problem."

"What's happened?"

"We've lost one of our cruise missile subs off North Korea. The California went down nineteen hours ago with all her crew."

"Everyone?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"That's what I'm calling about. It wasn't an accident. We think North Korea is responsible."

"The North Koreans sank her? Are they out of their minds?"

"Intelligence suggests Yun is getting ready to invade the South. The California was keeping an eye on the harbor at Wonsan."

"Where they're building up an invasion fleet," Nick said. It wasn't a question.

"Exactly. The DPRK is good at hiding things from our satellites. The Pentagon wanted direct visual sighting to confirm our intelligence and we don't have any assets on the ground to verify. California's mission was to observe and stay out of the way."

"Are we certain it was Pyongyang and not an accident?" Nick asked.

"It definitely wasn't an accident," Hood said. "She was sunk using our own technology. No one else is supposed to have it. The emergency buoy recorded what happened to her and transmitted the information when it reached the surface. Transmissions have stopped. The North Koreans plucked it out of the water."

"What kind of technology?"

"Now that you're acting in Elizabeth's place, I can tell you. DARPA developed an underwater drone called Black Dolphin that attaches itself to the hull of an enemy ship. It hacks into the target's computers and shuts them down. On the surface, a ship would lose all computer-controlled functions. It would drift, helpless. With a submarine, she'd turn into a big rock. That's what happened to California."

"How do the North Koreans come to have our top-secret tech?"

"That's the question, isn't it?"

"Treason," Nick said. "Someone gave it to them."

"It's the only possibility. Not only that, no one could break through the firewalls on one of our nuclear subs without the right codes. It has to be someone high up in the command structure with access to that information."

"At least it narrows the field."

"We'll find him, whoever it is," Hood said.

"What happens next?"

"President Rice isn't going to let the North Koreans get away with this. It may be up to his successor to finish what he starts, but Rice is mounting a rescue mission in case some of our people are still alive. The sub went down in North Korean waters. Yun is unstable, no one knows how he'll react. This could trigger a war."

President Rice was in the last days of his second term. It remained to be seen what would happen when his successor took office. No one knew what approach he would take toward the covert world where the Project operated, or the black budget that funded it.

"China won't like this," Nick said.

"You just put your finger on one of the problems. The Chinese have been unwilling to shut down Yun's lunacy with his missiles and his nuclear program. Now it's coming back to bite them in the ass. They're worried we're going to provoke him into using his nukes."

"So it's our fault if he does?"

"Everything is our fault, these days. There's a meeting at the White House with the Chinese ambassador later today to discuss the situation. President Zhang will be on the phone. Rice wants Selena in the room with him, to listen in."

Selena Connor was part of the field team. Against all the odds, she and Nick had gotten married the year before. Selena spoke Chinese fluently and understood the important nuances lost or omitted in translation. Her uncle had been a close friend of the President, and she'd known Rice since she was a child. He'd asked her once before to help him understand the minds of the men who ran China.

"She'll be here soon," Nick said. "What time is the meeting?"

"Four o'clock. Rice wants her at the White House a half hour before, and he wants you and your team outside. There will be protests when the story leaks."

"The Secret Service can handle it. We're not cops. Why would he need us? Did it occur to him that I'm a little busy right now?"

"Ours but to do or die, Nick. What the President wants, he gets."

After he hung up, Nick leaned back and thought about the California. Someone had given the North Koreans the technology. Whoever he was, Nick hoped the bastard was found out before he did any more damage.

He heard the door open and someone stomping their feet in the entryway. A moment later Lamont Cameron came in. He threw his coat over the arm of the couch across from Harker's desk and sat down.

"Man, I hate this cold weather. How about coming up with a mission someplace warm?"

"Scuttlebutt says we might be heading to the Arctic," Nick said.

"Funny, Nick. You got a real future as a comedian."

Lamont was one of four who composed the Project team in the field, along with Nick, Selena, and Ronnie Peete. He was a little shorter than Nick's six feet, lean and muscled. He'd been a Navy SEAL for most of his military career and had the scars to prove it.

Shrapnel in Iraq had left a long, pink line across his brown face. It started over his right eyebrow and worked its way across the bridge of his nose, then down his left cheek. It gave him a piratical look that belied his easy-going humor.

Selena and Ronnie came in the door and shook snow off their boots. A puddle of water was starting to collect in the entry.

"I don't think the snow's going to last," Ronnie said as he sat down. "It doesn't smell like it. Just enough to make everything a mess."

"With that nose of yours, I'll take that as gospel," Lamont said.

"It is a Roman nose," Ronnie said, "a sign of intelligence and intuition." He sniffed. "The snow will stop."

It was true Ronnie had a big nose. It went with his Navajo heritage. He had the stocky build, light brown skin, broad shoulders and narrow hips of the People. He dropped onto the couch next to Lamont. Selena sat next to him.

The dress code at Project HQ was casual. Selena wore black slacks and boots. She had on a dark blue sweater that brought out the violet color of her eyes, She wore no jewelry except her wedding ring. The cut of her red-blonde hair framed high cheekbones hinting at a Slavic ancestor in the distant past. She had the kind of unselfconscious beauty that always got a second look. A natural beauty mark above her lip added the final touch.

Nick wasn't used to looking at the team from this side of Elizabeth's desk. He wasn't comfortable with the feeling of separation it created, but it went with the territory.

A friendly looking, dark-haired woman came into the room and took a seat near the desk. Stephanie Willits knew how the Washington political game worked. She was Elizabeth's deputy and knew where all the bodies were buried. Technically, she should have been the one sitting in Harker's chair, but she and Nick had played this game before. There wasn't any competition between them. They shared a mutual determination to get the job done. She took her usual seat to the right of the desk.

She'd arranged for someone to stay with her newborn son during the day while she was working. Normally, Steph was full of energy. Today she seemed tired, her cheerful face showing the stress of a newborn baby and holding down one of the toughest jobs in Washington.

"Sorry I'm late. Matthew kept me up half the night."

"It's nothing to worry about, Steph."

Nick decided to begin the meeting and get right to the point.

"I got a call from DCI Hood this morning to start off our day. There's a problem."

"There's always a problem," Ronnie said.

"Yesterday one of our ballistic subs went down with all hands," Nick said. "The California carried a hundred and sixty-five officers and enlisted men and a full complement of nuclear cruise missiles."

Lamont sighed. "Shit. I have a buddy on the California."

"How? Where was she?" Selena asked. She brushed a wisp of hair away from her face. It was a gesture Nick had come to love.

"The how is what we're going to talk about. The where is off the East Coast of North Korea, in twenty-seven hundred feet of water."

"Did the Koreans sink her?"

"Almost certainly. They're the logical suspects at this point."

"Do we know what happened?" Lamont asked.

"Yes and no. We know some of it. Her emergency beacon deployed when she went down. Aside from giving the location, the beacon records all the relevant data and functions of the vessel up to the moment it's released."

"Like an airplane black box?" Selena asked.

"Right, only more sophisticated. When there's an accident and the beacon reaches the surface, it broadcasts everything to a satellite. The California's beacon sent everything it had recorded before the North Koreans retrieved it."

"Have we mounted a rescue operation?"

"Yes. That's part of the problem. She was patrolling outside Wonsan harbor. Pyongyang is claiming it's a provocation for war and using it as a propaganda tool."

"Crush depth on those big nuclear subs is just under twenty-two hundred feet," Lamont said, "but she might survive deeper than that. The crew could still be alive."

"It's possible. We can hope so, but that's not our job. It's a touchy situation because North Korea's leader is unpredictable. Nobody knows what he's going to do."

"Why did you say yes and no about how she was sunk?" Selena asked.

"The sub went down because a virus was transmitted into her computers. We know that because of the record on the beacon. That's the 'yes' part."

"I thought you couldn't transmit something like that underwater," Lamont said.

"Usually you can't. Salt water blocks transmission of everything except very low-frequency or extremely low frequency transmissions. The virus wasn't sent in that manner. Before the sub's computers failed, the emergency buoy recorded a distinct signature. It was done using a top-secret device developed by our own people."

"What kind of device?" Ronnie asked.

He settled his broad shoulders against the couch and rubbed his nose.

"An underwater drone codenamed Black Dolphin. It's programmed to attach itself to an enemy vessel and transmit the virus, using the hull as an antenna. Hood told me about it when we talked on the phone this morning. Technically none of you are cleared to know about it. You can't mention it to anyone."

"Wait a minute," Lamont said. "The computers on our nuclear subs have so many firewalls no one could get through them without the proper codes."

Nick just looked at him.

"Oh, boy," Lamont said. "Someone gave the Koreans the codes?"

Nick nodded. "Yes. What we don't know is who it was. That's the 'no' part, Selena. Whoever it was, there's a traitor somewhere in our command structure."

"Those are strong words, Nick," Ronnie said.

"There isn't any other explanation. That technology is as secret as it gets. Only a high-ranking officer would know the codes or be able to access plans for the drone."

"We're certain about what happened?" Stephanie asked.

"The beacon recorded a specific signature that identifies Black Dolphin. The computers on the sub were compromised and taken off-line. They wouldn't have had time to do much of anything before the ship went into negative buoyancy and headed down."

"Where do we come in?"

"I'm not sure yet, but you can bet Rice will come up with something. He isn't going to walk away from those men. He's gone to DEFCON 2."

"That was fast," Ronnie said.

"The whole situation is dangerous as hell," Nick said. "North Korea's so-called Great Leader seems to be getting ready to invade the South. That's why California was lying off Wonsan, to observe their preparations."

"Here we go again," Lamont said. "That guy is a nut job. He never quits."

"If Pyongyang invades the South, it brings China into the mix," Selena said. "Not to mention Russia. Orlov won't sit on the sidelines."

Nick nodded. "Beijing knows we won't permit the North to conquer South Korea. We'd intervene, as we did in the 50s. It's not in Beijing's interest to see a war start between North and South Korea, but you can be damn sure they don't want us taking over the peninsula."

"We could be looking at another Korean War," Selena said.

"You mean the police action no one wants to call a war?" Ronnie said.

"Rice spoke with China's President Zhang an hour ago and told him we think North Korea sank the sub. He told him we're going to send a rescue mission whether Pyongyang agrees or not, and that we will defend against any effort to keep us from doing so. Advance elements of the Seventh Fleet are already on their way from Yokosuka. If the North Koreans start shooting, we'll shoot back."

"I bet that made Zhang's day," Ronnie said.

"Zhang may decide China has to assist her ally. Or he could pressure Yun not to interfere with the rescue mission. He could decide they've had enough with Yun's erratic behavior and take over the North entirely. That's another scenario we won't tolerate. Whatever happens, if we start trading shots with the North Koreans it could lead to a confrontation with China."

"The Korean War was a long time ago," Ronnie said. "Everything is different now."

"Missiles and nukes are what's different," Nick said. "If a war starts between North and South, it's going to escalate. Yun can't win, but he's crazy and arrogant enough to think he can. He believes his enormous army could take Seoul in a few days. He'd be right, except for the fact that we guarantee South Korea's safety. He has nukes, as he's always telling everyone. If he thinks he's going to lose, he'll use them."

Selena said, "Where do we fit in?"

"Remember how we helped the Chinese avoid a coup?"

"How could I forget?"

That mission had brought Nick and Selena together. The high mountains of Tibet and an ancient fortress guarding an emperor's tomb had been the scene of Selena's initiation into combat.

"Rice and Zhang have scheduled a teleconference this afternoon at the White House. The Chinese are as worried about war in Korea as we are. The Chinese ambassador will be there as Zhang's personal representative. Rice wants you to listen when he talks to Zhang. He trusts you. It's not just because you understand Chinese. It's because of your intuition, your ability to sense what's being said behind the words."

"I'm flattered, but he's overestimating my ability."

"I don't think he is. Remember the last time."

"What about the rest of us?" Lamont asked.

"There will be protests when word leaks out about the sub. Anything to do with North Korea, the Chinese, or nuclear submarines brings people out on the street. The rest of us will be on the scene and liaise with the Secret Service while Rice is talking to Zhang."

Lamont said, "Those boys are pretty territorial. They'll have us guarding the White House outhouse."

"There's an outhouse?" Ronnie said.

"If there isn't, they'll probably build one for us."

"We'll work with them, not for them," Nick said. "I don't know why Rice wants us there, but we don't have a choice about it. We'll be outside. If there's going to be trouble, that's where it will happen.. People always want someone to blame for the mess we're in and there are powerful interests happy to oblige them."

"It's not as though Zhang will be here in person," Selena said.

"His ambassador will. Now that Rice's administration is on its way out the door, the White House is springing more leaks than the Titanic. Someone will organize a demonstration. It could be about Tibet or nuclear power or about American neo-colonialism in Korea. It doesn't matter."

"What a great country," Lamont said.

"You know, Nick, you don't have to go with us," Ronnie said. "This is just a dog and pony show, nothing's going to happen."

"I need a break from this desk," Nick said. "Besides, Rice asked for me to be there with everyone else."

"Yeah, but you're supposed to be running things, not doing grunt work like this."

"Hey, I have to keep an eye on you, don't I?"