Satan's Tail

“Hawk One is launched and operating in the green,” he told Dog. “Coming through fifteen thousand feet, going to five thousand. On programmed course.”

“Good work, Starship,” said Dog. “Be advised we have a civilian merchant ship for you to check out, two miles due south of your present course.”

“On my way, Colonel.”

“Piranha control, we are in range for the handoff. Baker-Baker is standing by,” added Dog over the interphone.

“Piranha control is ready,” said Delaford, who was sitting next to Starship on the Flighthawk deck. “Initiating transfer procedure.”

WITH THE FLIGHTHAWK LAUNCHED AND THE PROBE NOW UNder Delaford’s control, Dog had a few moments to relax before lining up for a buoy drop about thirty miles to the east.

He checked back in with Da

“Peaceful at the moment,” said Da

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the screen on the left-hand side of Dog’s control panel.

“Base commander was over a little while ago, full of apologies and trying to be reassuring. He says this is being stirred up by bad elements.”

“That’s nice,” said Dog sarcastically. “Did they beef up security?”

“Claims it’s at the max now. Has Washington gotten back to you, Colonel?”

“Negative. But I can’t imagine that they’re going to tell us to stay around,” added Dog.

“We can bug out as soon you give the order,” said Da

“And as soon as we know where we’re going.”

“Probably Diego Garcia,” said Dog. “Unless somebody comes up with an alternative. Did you get the blimp up?”

“Half hour ago. We’re going to run a drill with the Werewolves around 2400, just to make sure the systems are all working together.”

“All right. But get some sleep at some point.”

“I will.”

“All right, Da

STARSHIP PUSHED THE FLIGHTHAWK OVER THE STERN OF THE

merchant ship, riding slow and low across its topside. The low-light video image appeared gray on his main screen.

Though slightly blurry, it was clear enough that there were no weapons aboard the ship.

“He’s probably a smuggler,” said Commander Delaford.

Starship was providing a video feed to one of the commander’s auxiliary screens so the Navy expert could offer his opinions. The Piranha’s onboard controls were more than adequate to take it to its new location on their own, and would alert Delaford automatically if it encountered anything suspicious or ran into a problem. The commander could easily divide his time between the probe and helping Starship.

“Why do you think he’s a smuggler?”

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“According to the database of area shipping we’ve compiled, he’s headed for South Africa,” Delaford explained.

“But he’s on a beeline for coastal waters, well out of the normal traffic area. If we follow him, my bet is we’ll see him rendezvous with some smaller boats just inside territorial waters where he knows he can’t be touched if Xray Pop comes calling.”

“Doesn’t the Navy force know what’s going on?”

“Absolutely.”

“So how can these guys get away with it?”

“Well, for one thing, you can’t just stop any ship on the high seas. International law permits inspections only in certain circumstances. So even if the ship were carrying weapons, you’d have to prove that some law was being broken.”

“Like smuggling guns?”

“Unfortunately, you can’t just stop and search a ship because you think it has guns,” said Delaford. “There are countries that we have treaties with, where the terms of the treaty might allow a search. But even there, you would need at the very least probable cause and some sort of OK or at least no-tification. The administration has tried negotiating that, mostly to stop smuggling of weapons-grade plutonium or ballistic missiles. But what we’re talking about here, pretty much the whole nature of the thing, we simply don’t have the authority to stop the ship and search it against its captain’s will. The UN and other international organizations are working on protocols to prevent certain types of smuggling and make it possible to take action, but they’ve been working on them for years. Most arrests are made in territorial waters where the local government is going to enforce its laws. At the moment, if you don’t catch them in the act, or you don’t find some very obvious problem with the ship manifest or something else, in the end you’re going to have to give the weapons back. In theory,” added Delaford. “Besides, Xray Pop can’t be everywhere at once. Stopping and searching a ship can take considerable time if you do it right.

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The Navy has specially trained teams to handle it, and let me tell you, it’s a dangerous job in a place like this. Thoroughly searching a vessel that size could take six, eight hours, even more.”

“What about the pirates?” said Starship. “Why aren’t we just blasting them? We know what they’re up to. They’re just terrorists.”

The same people who killed Kick, he thought, though he didn’t say it.

“The thing that sets us apart from pirates is that we follow the law,” said Delaford. “You have to remember that, Starship.”

“How does the law stop us? It shouldn’t.”

“It doesn’t, specifically. But what we can do depends on where they are,” said Delaford. “If they’re in international waters, we can defend anyone that they’re attacking—or to put it in your terms, blast them. But outside of international waters, an attack on another ship isn’t actually piracy. So an attack in coastal waters is subject to the laws of the country where it occurs.”

“Unless it’s Somalia, where there is no law.”

“There are laws. Whether they are enforced or not is another question.”

“But these guys attack in international waters. How come they’re free?”

“Again, because they’re in the territory of another country. They can also claim that they’re under the jurisdiction of Somalia or Yemen or wherever, and are entitled to the protection of their laws.”

“Sounds like bullshit to me.”

“Well, think of it this way. One of the things the War of 1812 was about was America’s rights to its territorial waters and the rights of its seamen. Britain was stopping American ships and impressing seamen. America said it had no right to do that.”

“That doesn’t sound like the same thing,” said Starship.

“It has to do with the law of the sea, and one country put-

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ting itself ahead of the law because it has the power to do so.”

“I don’t think we’re above the law,” said Starship. “But I don’t think these crazies should be shooting at us either.”

“Agreed. The fanatics don’t care how many people die,”

added Delaford. “They know they’re not going to win in the short term. This isn’t about a single battle for them, or even a short war. They see this as a hundred year struggle. They want us to invade Somalia—they want us to invade all of Africa, all of the Middle East. They think if that happens, Islam will rise up and there will be a new golden age. Those people back in Saudi Arabia who were protesting outside the gates, the people who threw stones at you because you were curious about a mosque—what do you think their reaction would be to an invasion?”

“But we’re not here to invade. We’re just trying to protect shipping in the Gulf of Aden.”

“Absolutely,” said Delaford. “That’s what we have to remember. That and the fact that no one’s going to thank us for it.”

Starship turned his full attention back to the Flighthawk, circling eastward to visually check the area where the control buoy would be dropped.