The Bin Laden Plot

21 ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA

In a secure conference room in the Pentagon basement, Brenda Verbeck paced back and forth before the front row of chairs. In a few minutes, their videoconference with Captain Wilson would begin. The only other person in the room was her senior military aide, Captain Andy Hoskins, seated in one of the chairs facing the display screen and camera.

“I was afraid this would happen,” Verbeck said as she kept pacing, casting a sideways glance at her aide.

During their trip to Bahrain, Hoskins had already voiced his opinion: if it comes to that, we’ll have to come clean. That, however, wasn’t something Verbeck was willing to do. Moments earlier, while they waited for the videoconference to commence, their conversation had become heated, until Hoskins had finally agreed.

At the appointed time, the display energized, revealing a video of Captain Wilson seated at his stateroom desk. It appeared that no one else was present, per Verbeck’s direction when she had replied to Michigan’s communication request. Verbeck took her seat beside Hoskins.

“Good afternoon, Secretary Verbeck,” Wilson began. “How do you copy?”

Verbeck turned to Hoskins, not understanding the question.

Hoskins replied, “Hold you Lima-Charlie.” He leaned toward Verbeck and translated. “Loud and Clear.”

It was odd, using radio lingo for a videoconference, but old habits were hard to break.

“Same here,” Wilson replied. “Thank you for the short-notice communication request, but we’ve run into a complication. It appears the UUV we’ve been directed to sink has mated with a mother ship of some sort, which raises a number of questions. I’m hoping you can shed light on the matter and provide updated orders.”

“Of course,” Verbeck replied. “There is indeed a UUV mother ship. That’s something we didn’t discuss because we were hopeful you’d locate and sink the UUV before its retrieval. The reason we didn’t mention the mother ship is because its existence is even more sensitive than the weaponized UUVs. It’s a full-size, automated submarine, built primarily with components already fabricated when the Seawolf submarine program was unexpectedly canceled after the Cold War ended. Three more Seawolf submarines had been under construction in various stages, including their reactor plants, and the parts were put into storage for use as spares for the three operational Seawolfs.

“When the idea for a fully automated mother ship was devised, an economical solution was to build one with already-paid-for and fabricated components. For the most part, the mother ship resembles a Seawolf submarine.”

“That explains its sonar signature,” Wilson replied.

Verbeck continued, “The mother ship extracts the data collected from each UUV after mating, as a backup to what they’ve transmitted while operating on their own. It also recharges the UUVs; they don’t have built-in solar panels. You were misled on that aspect because we didn’t want to divulge the existence of the mother ship unless it was absolutely necessary.

“As you can imagine, a fully automated mother ship containing a nuclear reactor is a sensitive subject we’d rather not reveal to the public. Safeguards have been put in place, of course, keeping the submarine away from land in case of a severe casualty. But that’s the least of our worries now that the UUV has mated with it.”

“Why is that?” Wilson asked.

“We suspect the UUV has been infected with a virus, corrupting its artificial intelligence. Now that it has mated with the mother ship, it too is likely infected, and it will now transmit the virus to every UUV it mates with. The situation is now far more severe. Instead of sinking a single UUV, your task has become more involved and more urgent. You’ll also need to sink the mother ship before it infects more UUVs.”

“I understand,” Wilson replied. “How long before the mother ship retrieves the next vehicle?”

“Seven days,” Verbeck replied. “Are you still tracking the UUV and mother ship?”

“We aren’t,” Wilson replied. “There’s a sharp thermocline here in the Gulf, and we lost both contacts coming up to periscope depth.”

Wilson went on to explain what a thermocline was — a thin layer of water where the temperature transitioned rapidly between the warm surface heated by the sun and the cold water beneath. Submarines used thermoclines to their advantage because the rapid temperature change bent sound waves as they traveled through the layer, reflecting the sound back toward its source like light reflecting off a window. Depending on the frequency and angle of the sound wave, some tonals didn’t make it through.

“Will it be difficult to regain contact?”

“That depends on if they’ve altered their course or speed while we’re at periscope depth, and whether they’ve separated. Do you know how long it takes before the UUV de-mates from the mother ship?”

Verbeck turned to Hoskins again.

“About an hour. It depends on how depleted the UUV battery is.”

“Then we’ll need to end this videocon soon so I can get Michigan below the thermocline again.”

“I understand,” Verbeck replied. “Do you have any more questions?”

“I do. Is the mother ship weaponized?”

There was a tense moment in the conference room before Hoskins answered.

“Yes.”

“What weapons does it carry?”

“MK 48 ADCAP, MOD 7.”

Wilson appeared to be evaluating the revised scenario. Instead of dealing with a UUV carrying a single lightweight torpedo, he now faced an automated, full-size submarine carrying heavyweight torpedoes, with warheads over six times more powerful than those built into lightweight torpedoes.

“How many torpedoes?”

“A full torpedo room’s worth,” Hoskins replied. “A Seawolf torpedo room.”

Wilson nodded solemnly. A Seawolf torpedo room carried fifty torpedoes, twice that of other U.S. fast-attack submarines and three times what Michigan carried.

“I understand,” he replied. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“Not that I can think of,” Verbeck replied. She looked to Hoskins, who shook his head.

“Thank you for your time, Secretary Verbeck. We’ll destroy the UUV and mother ship as soon as possible.”

“Thank you, Captain. I appreciate your assistance in this matter.”

The secure videocon terminated, and the display went black.

There was silence in the conference room until Hoskins spoke. “This has gotten out of hand. If he sinks that submarine — ”

Verbeck cut him off. “Wilson will be to blame, not us. He has no official direction to sink that submarine aside from the verbal order I just gave him — he has nothing in writing. He’ll just be an overzealous captain who exceeded his authority. What matters is that the UUV and the information it collected is destroyed.”

Hoskins didn’t reply, but his face was tight. He had agreed to lend his assistance in the matter, but his resolve was wavering.

Verbeck considered the tenuous relationship with her military aide. His demise couldn’t come fast enough. What was taking so long?