-1Chapter

eight
Lebanon, offshore; very dark night
The USS Mobile Bay cut through the dark Eastern Mediterranean waves, making 22 k
nots. Two Perry-class guided-missile frigates flanked the Ticonderoga-class crui
ser in the nearly moonless night. In the cruiser's CIC, Command Information Cent
er, Captain Randolph Pierce reviewed the plotting board once again. One hundred
twelve nautical miles to the west, two F-15 Eagles circled at forty-thousand fee
t, high cover for the pair of F16C Falcons loitering eighteen-thousand feet belo
w. An E-3 Sentry AWACS and a supporting KC-135 tanker were flying in slow circle
s west of the fighters. All units were in support of the Mobile Bay strike force
preparing to launch a cruise missile attack against CMR Corporation assets in T
ripoli, Lebanon. The blue-lighted CIC was icy cold, a concession necessary for t
he multitude of computer-driven electronics that enable a modern warship to figh
t. Coming on station slightly over two hundred miles west of Beirut, west and so
uth of Cyprus, Mobile Bay and her escorts slowed to quarterspeed and steered a f
ew degrees to port. Captain Pierce ordered one
missile launcher unmasked. Three volleys of three Tomahawk cruise missiles would
soon be skimming the water, a violent answer to terrorism.
Commander Yaddock, XO and Tactical Action Officer, said, " Captain, wep ops read
y. Radio control has received and confirmed 'weapons free' signal from CINCCENT.
Ready to fire on your command."
Captain Pierce considered a moment the destruction about to be unleashed. Four w
arheads, each with five-hundred pounds of explosive would smash into Cypress Int
ernational Bank. Five more would decimate the building that contained CMR headqu
arters. And then what? More threats? More outrages followed by more retaliations
? Against whom? CMR or whatever CMR represented had crippled the US and this mis
sion was more a tantrum than a decisive action against a foe. Who the hell were
they fighting?
Randolph showed none of the doubt crowding his mind as he said, "Commence firing
procedures, fire when ready," and in less time than he
had spent shaving that morning, the launcher began to empty - once, twice, three
times.
The weapons control Chief said, "Launcher clear, magazine rotated free. Firing c
omplete." The entire procedure had taken twenty-seven minutes.
As the missiles streaked away and dived to near sea level, the Mobile Bay strike
force secured from battle stations and reversed course to rejoin the rest of th
e main battle group. Minutes later, the first missiles twenty miles from the Leb
anese coast, their Tomahawk inertial-guidance systems shut down and each of the
million-dollar cruise missiles slammed into the sea spinning, cart wheeling and
destructing in a maelstrom of harmless debris.
The Red Sea, fifty-two nautical miles northwest of Jiddah, Saudi Arabia, aboard
USS Hornet, 4:32 A.M. (Arabian Time)
Admiral Barlow watched nine fiery plumes belch from the pair of missile frigates
a few degrees off his starboard bow. The attacking ships were nine and eleven t
housand yards distant, reducing the streaks of light
in Barlow’s binoculars to resemble match flares a block away. The USS Harvester
signaled one missile (the tenth) did not leave the firing tube.
The first of the successfully launched missiles rose sixty-eight minutes before
the stealth bombers would arrive over Lebanon. The cruise missiles would skim th
e Red Sea north, northwest before turning northeast into the Gulf of Aquaba. The
y were programmed to cross into Israeli territory outside the port city Elat, tr
aveling due north. The Tomahawks would be approaching Beersheba when the stealth
squadrons formed into initial strike profiles. For the next twenty minutes US w
arplanes would pound radar and anti-aircraft installations from Jubayl to Tripol
i while the wave of deadly cruise missiles traversed the length of Israel, movin
g across the Mediterranean coastline near Haifa. Gliding a few feet above sea su
rface, fifty miles west of Beirut, nine thousand pounds of high explosives would
turn northeast toward the Jaws river just as the bombers ceased their attacks a
nd regressed. What would follow-on, in less than twelve minutes, was the creatio
n of rubble where now stood the headquarters of CMR Corporation and Cypress Inte
rnational Bank. At least, that was the plan.
Tripoli, Lebanon, 4:45 A.M.
The Lebanese coast sparkled with ground fire and anti-aircraft blossoms as searc
hlights stabbed the night sky, seeking invisible attackers. Surface-to-air missi
les were rising under manual control to explode in brilliant stair-stepping conc
ussions. Radars normally used to guide the SAMs were either destroyed or unable
to locate and track the stealth aircraft. A double burst of dazzlingly vivid lig
ht told other pilots that a SAM had blundered into an unlucky F-18. Blazing debr
is twisted and spiraled earthward south of Tripoli, near Jubayl. Rescue helicopt
ers, loitering off the coast, dashed forward hoping to find a downed but alive p
ilot. No pilot was found. To the East, Syrian MIG interceptors scrambled from ba
ses near the Lebanese cities of Riyak and Bsharri. The stealth bombers would be
gone before they could arrive. Other Syrian interceptors lifted off from norther
n Beirut and were vectored north, over the Mediterranean, to block west and sout
hwest escape routes for the attackers. Navy pilots from the USS Enterprise, maki
ng way near Cyprus, would foil that plan. Twenty minutes and nineteen seconds af
ter entering Lebanese airspace, the last American
strike plane went ‘feet wet’, passing over the coastline in search of circling K
-10 tankers.
The missiles never reached the Jawz river, at least not in one piece.
The Radisson Hotel off I-45 South, Houston, near Ellington Field
Admiral Bramble had treated Drs. Miriam Goodman and Neal Palmer to a nice dinner
complete with two forty-plus dollars (each) bottles of wine. This was a gesture
of appreciation to them both for the hard hours spent analyzing mounds of seism
ic data. Their presentation of findings had been frank but not enlightening for
the Navy’s immediate needs. If anything, the prospect of Japan receiving the bru
nt of a major natural disaster evoked mixed feelings. The Japanese certainly des
erved some of God’s wrath, especially since the US seemed to be incapable of del
ivering wrath, but on the other hand you don’t calm a
rabid dog after a firecracker has just ruptured his asshole. Or do you? What if
the rupture could be compounded until the wounded animal could only collapse and
wait for death or salvation? The germ of an incredible idea began to flourish i
n the Admiral’s brain.
After the last of the wine was poured, Neal Putnam quickly finished his glass an
d excused himself. Admiral Bramble’s interest in Miriam was quite evident and sh
e obviously found that interest, interesting.
After Neal left, Thomas T. and Miriam lingered over their drinks and tried to ma
ke small talk. One of them would start a sentence only to let it trail away when
their eyes met. Brown eyes searched darker brown eyes as he silence, wanting hi
m to reach out and touch her. Her face, her hand, anything to tell her she wasn
t being foolish. Thomas murmured maybe they should go get some rest and Miriam n
odded her head in agreement, but could not let go of him with her eyes.
Thomas stood and held out a hand to assist her. Miriam felt her hand slip into h
is and a small static spark seemed to weld her fingertips to his palm.
Thomas felt it too and his fingers closed involuntarily over hers. The eyes of e
ach immediately sought the other as if seeking confirmation of the tiny shock. N
either moved until Miriam spoke so softly that no sound reached beyond her lips.
Thomas had seen her mouth move and leaned forward for her to repeat what she had
said. "I m sorry, I didn t hear that."
Squeezing his hand without realizing, Miriam repeated, "Will you walk me to my r
oom, Thomas?"
The very nervous Admiral could not find any reply except to slightly raise her h
and and step to her side ready for her to rise. Miriam flushed slightly, unsure
what his answer had been, and rose to stand beside him. Neither made any effort
to release their handhold and Miriam felt a small measure of reassurance. They l
eft the bar and walked silently to the elevators, still holding hands. As they s
tepped in for an outside-view ride, Thomas pushed her floor number, started to p
ush another but stopped and stepped back. The elevator speed was adjusted to all
ow passengers ample time to enjoy
the scenery as it slid up the outside of the hotel. Both Thomas and Miriam were
looking out but neither saw more than a myriad of lights twinkling against their
silent thoughts.
As the door opened on Miriam s floor, their hands released and she removed her k
ey from a side pocket of her purse.
"It s to the right, about halfway down," Miriam whispered for no reason other th
an she had to say something and could not manage a louder voice.
Miriam unlocked her door, stepped in and held the door with her hip as she remov
ed her high heel slippers. Thomas automatically reached out to hold the door ope
n for her and when she glanced back to him and then walked on into her room he w
as left standing there with a choice to make. His choice. She had left the door
open, literally, and the rest was up to him.
Thomas barely moved but he was inside when the door closed with a soft click. Mi
riam had stopped where she could see out the windows in her room, listening, afr
aid to look toward the door. When Thomas moved up
behind her, she turned around, tears moving slowly along the outside of her face
.
He kissed the tear points very softly and looking at her with his own eyes nearl
y spilling over said, "This is very hard for both of us. I want to hold you so b
adly I hurt but I don t know if I can. I..."
Miriam placed a finger against his lips to still any more words which could brea
k either heart. She understood how much he had loved his wife, and still did. Th
e pain of loneliness was as real to her as to him. Her need for him to hold her
and then to fill the empty ache inside her was pounding her chest. She could fee
l her temples pulsing and again, her tears spoke when she could not.
Thomas s anguish flowed from his own eyes as he watched Miriam s lips tremble wh
en tears touched the corners of her mouth. He kissed the finger that had silence
d his lips and gathered her into his arms and held her like that for a long time
.
Miriam felt his legs start to shake as Thomas grappled with emotions held too lo
ng and too deep. His longing was as great as hers. She lifted her mouth to his a
nd felt him tense, holding back in order not to crush her lips as they touched h
is. Thomas kissed her as gently as he would touch a fragile flower until she pla
ced a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him fully onto her mouth, demandin
g his passion. Thomas broke and the rush of his need forced her lips to open wid
er to accept the force he now pressed against her. When he finally started to mo
ve back, Miriam caught his upper lip between her own and teased it with the tip
of her tongue to let him know she did not wish to lose his embrace.
Thomas started to speak and again Miriam stopped him, this time with four finger
s held to his mouth. Smiling, she ran her hands under his jacket and pushed it b
ack on his shoulders. Then very slowly, with trembling fingers and a number of s
mall kisses, they removed the layers of clothing between them. After Miriam remo
ved Thomas s boxers, she stroked him to full erection and then molded her hips a
gainst him. She wanted to feel him, hard and warm against her belly. Seeking his
lips again, Miriam raised on tiptoes. She did so not because she needed to stre
tch for his mouth but to
free and then recapture his pulsing length between her legs. Thomas was not insi
de her, only clutched firmly against her own fullness. She squeezed him with her
thighs and felt him jerk upward in response. Squeezing him again her belly ripp
led, surprising her with almost forgotten contractions that sent thrumming waves
against her vulva and the small of her back. Startled, Miriam pushed hard again
st the base of Thomas s stomach and gave in to the pleasure flooding her body. T
homas recognized her shudders and lifted his heels to help her press against him
.
As she quieted and snuggled into his chest, a small voice spoke, "I guess I was
ready, huh?"
Thomas chuckled in reply. Then Miriam chuckled and finally her laughter filled t
he room. Her s was a laugh of tension replaced with strumming echoes of release
and it was awhile before she realized that all their movements were now producin
g a low growling hum from Thomas, still caught between her thighs. The laughter
stopped and she lifted her right leg up and curved it around his hip. He was ver
y still.
Thomas felt more than heard his forever love, Penelope, whisper in his mind, "Sh
e needs you darling, and you need her." The tears welled again as he felt one ar
m around his neck while a feathery touch guided him into the warmth of Miriam Go
odman.
Washington, D.C., Office of the Attorney General
Oh my God, Crystal! That’s him, the creepy bastard. “I know Madge. At first I wa
sn’t sure what I was seeing because the camera was too far away but I added two
more cameras, much closer, and voila! Got the son-of-a-bitch twice more in the m
ost sensitive files.” “Crystal, Alger was just appointed to run the outages inve
stigation. He now may have the clearance to look at any of our files.” “Perhaps“
, murmured Crystal, “but Alger Brighton does not have any right to a copy of our
keys, I don’t care how muckity-fuck high up the totem pole he is now. Lydia Har
dcastle, Attorney General herself, will stuff his pervert body into his sneakers
and send him head-over-tumbles to the worst shitfarm on the planet.”