The Bin Laden Plot

29 PERSIAN GULF

A full moon shone down upon the Persian Gulf as USS Michigan cruised slowly on the surface, not far from the silhouette of another black submarine paralleling Michigan’s course. Murray Wilson, standing in Michigan’s Bridge atop the sail, monitored the activity on the Missile Deck below as several SEALs pulled one of their RHIBs — rigid-hulled inflatable boats — from the starboard Dry Deck Shelter, inflated it, and attached the outboard motor.

As they lowered it into the water, Wilson climbed down the side of the sail, then joined two SEALs aboard the RHIB. The barely audible engine was started, and the RHIB skimmed across the water’s surface toward its destination: USS Jimmy Carter.

Less than an hour ago, Wilson had stood stunned in Michigan’s Control Room after hearing the mother submarine’s response to his question — Do you have a name? It had taken a while to convince him that the submarine following them was indeed USS Jimmy Carter and not an automated mother ship’s artificial intelligence attempting to impersonate a U.S. submarine and its captain.

Fortunately, Wilson knew Dennis Gallagher. He was one of the prospective Commanding Officers he had trained during his last shore tour, and he had worked out with him at the gym during lunch, showering afterward. Only when the mother ship had correctly answered Wilson’s question — what did Gallagher have tattooed on his right butt cheek — did Wilson become convinced that the mother ship was actually USS Jimmy Carter, a Seawolf class submarine manned by an elite crew and modified with a one-hundred-foot-long hull extension outfitted with the most advanced technology in the U.S. Navy.

A conversation had followed, and both Commanding Officers had quickly agreed that a face-to-face discussion was required to sort out what had happened and its implications. Although Wilson was senior and could have requested Gallagher board Michigan, Wilson was already thinking ahead. Jimmy Carter was outfitted not only with advanced weapon technology but with enhanced communication capabilities, something he might want to tap into depending on where their conversation led. That the secretary of the Navy had lied to him on several occasions, even ordering him to sink another U.S. submarine, was clear. What wasn’t yet clear was why and who Wilson could trust.

The SEAL piloting the RHIB eased up on the motor, matching Jimmy Carter’s speed as the boat pulled alongside. A rope ladder had been draped down the rounded hull, which Wilson climbed as the RHIB loitered alongside. He descended through the nearest topside hatch, where Commander Gallagher was waiting at the bottom of the ladder. After Gallagher welcomed him aboard, they proceeded to Gallagher’s stateroom, where they sat at a small fold-down table.

“This entire situation is incredibly screwed up, sir,” Gallagher said. “You’re going to have to take me back to the beginning.”

Wilson couldn’t agree more.

He began with Michigan’s surprise port call in Bahrain, when the secretary of the Navy and her senior military aide had briefed him on his mission: track down and sink a rogue UUV that had sunk USS Stethem. Gallagher listened intently, confusion gathering on his face as Wilson recounted that he had detected the UUV being retrieved by a mother ship, which Brenda Verbeck subsequently explained was an artificially intelligent mother submarine built from spare Seawolf parts.

“Wow,” Gallagher said when Wilson finished. “That’s some story, and wrong on both parts. First, there’s no automated mother ship out here. Just Jimmy Carter. We pick up our UUVs on occasion for recharging and maintenance, plus we download whatever information the UUVs have intercepted in case their transmissions were corrupted or incomplete. Second, our UUVs couldn’t have sunk Stethem. They can’t launch their torpedoes.”

Gallagher explained that Jimmy Carter’s fleet of UUVs had been developed and deployed quickly under a UON — Urgent Operational Need. Due to the accelerated development and limited testing, the UUVs had not been equipped with the software necessary to launch their torpedoes. What the United States primarily needed was the ability to intercept otherwise secure communications, which the UUVs could do at little risk. Weaponizing the UUVs without extensive testing and full confidence in their artificial intelligence, however, was another matter.

After Gallagher’s explanation, Wilson realized that Secretary Verbeck, or someone supporting her, had fabricated the armed-UUV scenario to justify the destruction of the UUV, along with the supposed mother ship — Jimmy Carter — both of which now contained sensitive data that someone desperately wanted destroyed. Not knowing whether Verbeck was corrupt or an innocent pawn in this conspiracy, Wilson wasn’t sure how to proceed. Then an idea came to him.

“What do you and your UUVs do with the data they collect? Where is it sent?”

“To a black cell in the Pentagon. It gets screened there, and relevant information is forwarded to the CIA for evaluation.”

The CIA.

Wilson wondered to what extent the conspiracy ran; who was involved. But the real question was — who could he trust to divulge what he knew, so that the information shared would spark an investigation and not the elimination of Wilson and his crew? If the wrong people learned that Wilson had discovered the mother submarine he had been ordered to sink was actually Jimmy Carter, they wouldn’t flinch about adding Michigan to the list.

When Gallagher mentioned the CIA, Wilson realized there was one person he could trust without doubt: Christine O’Connor.

“Do you have a communication channel with the CIA?”

Gallagher nodded. “We occasionally pass data to them and get queries.”

“Can you establish a videocon with the CIA director?”

“Director O’Connor?”

“I’ve worked with her several times. She’s someone we can trust with this information.”

“I can request an urgent videocon. You want it with the director only, correct?”

Wilson nodded.

Gallagher picked up the phone and requested the presence of Jimmy Carter’s Communicator, and a lieutenant soon arrived. Instructions were provided and the junior officer left to draft the outgoing transmission. While they awaited the Communicator’s return, the two Commanding Officers discussed their unique situation.

“Until we sort this out, I suggest we stick together,” Wilson said, “working as a team in case another submarine is sent to sink either or both of us.”

Gallagher nodded his agreement. “What’s your waterspace assignment?” he asked, inquiring about Michigan’s operating area.

Wilson provided the details.

“Same as mine,” Gallagher replied, shaking his head.

Waterspace management was a sensitive issue for submarines, with operations centers in Norfolk and Pearl Harbor controlling the movements of every U.S. submarine, ensuring that no two submarines were in the same water at the same time without special safeguards. It was a safety issue: detecting and avoiding other submarines wasn’t nearly as easy as it was for surface ships, which used radar to quickly determine the solutions to other surface craft.

Submarines typically used passive sonar only, which meant they knew only the bearing to the contact, with no easy way of determining whether the contact was a few hundred yards away or several miles. Determining a contact’s course, speed, and range took time, during which a contact could approach dangerously close. It was not uncommon for submarines, particularly during the Cold War, to collide as one trailed the other in a high-tech game of cat and mouse, guessing wrong at what new course and speed the lead submarine had maneuvered to before the crew sorted it out.

As a result, waterspace assignments were controlled so that if two submarines needed to pass nearby or operate together, one would be restricted shallow and the other deep, with the deep submarine provided with stovepipes — circular areas — where it could come up to periscope depth for communications. That Michigan and Jimmy Carter had been assigned the same waterspace without these safeguards meant the Pearl Harbor operations center had no idea that Michigan had been sent into Jimmy Carter’s operating area. Someone high up had circumvented the normal operating procedures.

“Why don’t I go shallow and you go deep?” Gallagher proposed. “I’ll need to operate shallow to retrieve and launch the UUVs.”

Wilson agreed, and the two men worked out a construct for Michigan’s stovepipes, which Jimmy Carter would stay out of, so Wilson could come up to periscope depth and communicate at the required intervals.

The Communicator returned shortly thereafter with the message to the CIA, which Gallagher approved for transmission.

“This ought to get their attention,” he said.