No Rest for the Weary ...

Site B
VA Medical Center, Martinsburg, WV
Source

The President was sitting in his makeshift office going through the overnight message traffic. He noted that the Maryland State Police were bringing in Johansen. As the message didn't say how or when, he realized that he'd have to be patient on that front.

Another message was far more concerning, apparently the Chinese aircraft carrier Fujian and her escorts had put to sea and were reported to be heading south. Weather in the area was bad, none of that group had been picked up by satellite yet, but the NRO¹ was working on it.

"Bill." Nakagawa buzzed his chief aide and bodyguard Bill Aspinall on the phone.

Aspinall entered the President's office, "Yeah, Boss?"

"How reliable is the NRO these days?"

"Technologically or politically?"

"Both."

"Their technology is top notch, none better on the planet. Politically? Most of the technical guys are very apolitical, they don't care who is in charge as long as they get to play with their toys. Their bosses are the usual mixed bag of bureaucrats and political appointees. A lot of them flew the coop when the trouble started."

"Okay. The reason I ask is because we have a PLAN carrier group underway, headed south. Might be routine, might have something to do with the Spratlys. But the weather is bad in the area ..."

"It is typhoon season, Boss."

"Yeah, I know." The President thought for a moment, "Get the Chiefs in here."

Aspinall left to make that happen.

Choe's stomach was in knots as the State Police helicopter stayed low, climbing up over one ridgeline, only to slide down into another valley. But he kept watching his sector.

The Medivac helo was somewhere to their rear, flying a little higher. The idea was that Choe's helo had the lead so that in the event someone opened fire on them, the Medivac helo could take evasive action and avoid that area. The three Marine helicopter escorts were up high, ready to swoop down and destroy anything that posed a threat.

Choe had an odd thought, as breakfast threatened again to come up, he'd been in some pretty bad storms at sea but had never gotten seasick, but damn, helos always made him airsick.

Admiral Zhang Wei shifted his stance slightly as the big carrier took another wave over the bow. The ship was pitching viciously as the violence of the storm washed over them.

"Admiral, message from Anshan, 'Rolling badly, engine room casualty, request permission to change course.'" The messenger handed the Admiral a clipboard, he glanced at it briefly, then initialed the message.

"To Anshan, permission granted, all escorts to run with the storm. Fujian will follow."

As the messenger went to send the new commands, Zhang knew that Beijing would be furious. But the prevarications of the PLAN's weather-guessers were no match for the fury of the sea. Better to arrive late in the operation area then never arrive at all. He would take whatever heat was forthcoming from the Party.

Ted Anderson walked out to the jeep where the former Secretary of Defense and pretender to the Presidency of the United States, Matthew Burleson sat, eating another disgusting gas station burrito.

"Sir, we need to get moving. Guy inside had the TV on, says there is a statewide manhunt for you and the other insurrectionists."

Burleson stopped chewing and looked at Anderson, "Insurrectionists? The sons-a-bitches allegedly running things now are the goddamned insurrectionists. I'm the damned President, not that Jap bastard Nakagawa."

Anderson climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine, as he pulled out of the gas station he wondered how the hell he'd ever seen anything in this man.

Aspinall came into the President's office, "Sir, Johansen and Choe are ten minutes out. No issues on the trip, they decided to fly. Somehow they managed to get Marine attack helicopters as an escort."

Nakagawa looked up, "Are those Marines coming here as well?"

"Negative, they're going to land at Eastern West Virginia Regional, 167th Airlift Wing is over there. They're loyal, if you were wondering."

"Okay, who's in command of those Marine? I want to talk with him."

"I'll let them know."

Ramirez' helos hovered around the landing pad, all facing outward, ready for any threat, real or perceived. As the police helicopter waited nearby, the Medivac touched down. There was an ambulance waiting and he saw the stretcher come out of the bird and go into the ambulance.

"Tommy Boy, this is the boss, you and Hoss head over to the 167th's field. I'm going to land here, I want to see if I can get in to see the President."

Over his headset he heard, "Copy that, Boss. As soon as the police bird lands we'll head out."

Johansen opened his eyes, they'd had him sedated for the trip to Martinsburg, he had no idea how they had gotten there. He wasn't even sure if they really were at Site B. Everything was fuzzy.

He sensed someone standing at the foot of his gurney, he blinked and tried to focus, when he did get his eyes working he nearly gasped. Jason Howard was standing there, studying him, a bland expression on his face. Then Howard spoke.

"Good morning, Ephraim. As you might imagine, you and I need to talk."

"I've got nothing to say to you, Senior Chief."

"Hhmm. Well, alrighty then." Howard grinned and left the room.

Johansen didn't like that grin, he knew Howard well, they'd worked together in Yemen. He knew the man was dangerous as hell, he might be the most dangerous man Johansen knew.

Source

Lieutenant Junior Grade Frank Seymour braced himself as USS John Basilone (DDG 122) buried her bow in another heavy swell, then pitched up throwing spray back over the forecastle. His grin grew ever wider with each wave.

"JOOD!² You're having way too much fun out there, get your ass back on the bridge!" Lieutenant Mike Winslow, the OOD³, shouted as he ordered Seymour in off the portside bridge wing.

Seymour closed the hatch behind him, laughing as he did so, "Man, I wanna stay in the Navy forever!"

One of the helmsmen shook her head, Seymour was crazy, but she loved standing watch with the man. His enthusiasm was infectious.

Winslow was about to tell Seymour to go aft and get the captain when he heard the quartermaster snap, "Captain is on the bridge!"

"Mike, message from Pearl, set course to 090, let's get out of this damned storm. A P-8 out of Yokosuka reported that the PLAN carrier has turned around, she's running from the weather as well. Typhoon Fong is looking to be one big sumbitch."

Operations in the western Pacific would have to wait for Mother Nature to have her say.

Johansen was more nervous now after having seen Howard. He had worked closely with the small team Howard had led in Yemen, the CIA had been heavily involved there trying to stop the Houthi attacks on nearby shipping. Howard and his team, Chuck Bertram, Hector Driscoll, and Avram Stein were four very capable, very ruthless men.

Rumor around DC was that Howard was working for a new boss, word on the street was that this new guy made Howard's team look like Boy Scouts. But hell, rumor always had a way of exaggerating things. He hoped that he could square things with the new President.

A tap on the door, a nurse peeked in, "Mr. Johansen, are you in any pain?"

He nodded, it still amazed him how a missing appendage could feel like it was still there. He supposed the nerve endings still transmitted messages to the brain, regardless of the fact that the original sender wasn't there any more.

After the nurse adjusted his IV, giving him an injection through that, he felt himself begin to relax a bit more. The pain ebbed, but he was drowsy now.

"How long will he be out?" President Nakagawa asked the nurse.

"Until this afternoon, Sir, five or six hours usually with that dosage."

"Alright, thank you nurse."

As the nurse left, Howard came in.

"What do you think, Boss?"

"I'm not sure Senior Chief. Did he hear rumors of the operation, did he get any details? Knowing the name is concerning, but it may be that's all he knows." Nakagawa looked briefly at Johansen, drugged out of this world.

"We need to know, any word from the Agency?"

"Nothing yet, the new director is really knocking heads together over there. Oddly enough, it seems the CIA has been loyal, not to any individual, but to the law."

"Operating in the United States is against the law for them." Nakagawa pointed out.

"Last I checked, forcing a government official to resign at gunpoint is of questionable legality as well."

Nakagawa chuckled, "You have a point, Jason. Do try and hurry things along though, there isn't much time left. Once that typhoon peters out, the Chinese will put to sea again."

"We'll be ready to move by then, won't we?"

Nakagawa sighed, "Lord, I hope so."

Aspinall came into the room, "Sir, the Chiefs and that Marine helicopter pilot are waiting for you in the briefing room."

"Okay," he glanced at Howard, "no rest for the weary, right Senior Chief?"

"No Sir, none at all."

¹ National Reconnaissance Office

² Junior Officer of the Deck

³ Officer of the Deck