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  SHARK AMONG THE MINNOWS

  PART 1 OF BOOK 1

  THE HUNTER/KILLER SERIES

  OF

  THE FIGHTING TOMCATS

  ROSE HILL PRESS, OLYMPIA, WASHINGTON

  Shark Among the Minnows is a work of historical fiction and speculation using well-known historical and public figures. All incidents and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Because of the speculative nature of this work, we have changed some timelines in the present, such as the fact that the aircraft carrier battlegroup depicted in this book has never existed. Also, we have changed the historical timeline in the present to suit the nature of the work. Any resemblance to persons living or dead who are not historical figures is entirely coincidental.

  The views presented are those of the authors and do not necessarily represent the views of the Department of Defense or the United States Navy.

  DEDICATION

  This series is dedicated to the men and women of the Silent Service.

  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Contents

  Epigram

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Glossary

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright

  “Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.”

  Attributed to Abraham Lincoln, but the original idea comes from an essay by Thomas Carlyle

  “The difference between a good and great officer is about ten seconds.”

  Admiral Arleigh Burke

  CHAPTER 1

  KUA LUA APARTMENTS, HONOLULU HAWAII

  1315, 12 December, 1990

  Lieutenant Commander John Morrison sits barefoot on his couch, wearing only dark blue shorts, contemplating his packed sea bag and drinking a glass of bourbon. Beyond the closed blinds is a peak-a-boo view of the ocean that costs him an extra $100.00 a month. The apartment is clean and tidy and sparsely decorated. Hanging on a hook is a dress blue uniform fresh from the dry cleaners. He takes another sip of bourbon, then looks up as he hears a key turn in the lock of the front door.

  A beautiful brunet woman, wearing a green and blue Hawaiian sun dress walks in carrying a bag of groceries. He takes another sip.

  Lisa Stevenson asks, “Are you okay?” She smiles down at

  her friend. He’s a crazy mix of Japanese and Irish American. His birth parents died in a car accident when he was six months old. He was adopted and raised by his father’s best friend, Mitchell Morrison, now a retired Rear Admiral, and his wife, Amanda.

  “Yep.” Another sip.

  She walks into the small kitchen and starts putting groceries away, “Thank you for letting me use your place.”

  “No problem.”

  She walks into the living room. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yep.”

  “Do you even hear me?”

  He looks at her.

  “Oh, John. What’s the matter?” She sits and puts a hand on his cheek and turns his face so she can look him in the eye.

  A small brief smile, “I don’t want to go.”

  “What? Deployment? Isn’t this like your eighth deployment in submarines?”

  “Yeah, but this one feels different.”

  “I haven’t seen you for, like, fifteen years. You’ve changed. Are you always this way before you leave?”

  “No.” He stands up and walks to the kitchen and refills his glass. “I’ve never been like this. The San Francisco is a good boat and it is well taken care of. I’m not afraid of it. I just don’t want to go.” He sits down and his phone rings.

  He picks it up, “Morrison.”

  His CO, Commander George Cumberland, says, “I am having an early dinner at the Hal Koa. Please join me. Oh, if she is here, by all means bring your guest. Is she pretty?”

  “Yes, sir, she is.”

  “Ok. Three then.” Cumberland hangs up.

  She slides right beside him, “Can I ask who that was?”

  “Yeah. That was Commander George Cumberland. My skipper. He invited us to dinner.”

  “Us?”

  “Yep. He wants to know who will be living at my place. He wants to look you over and decide if he approves. That and talk shop. You will be bored out of your mind.”

  “What’s he like? Do you like your skipper?”

  “It doesn’t much matter if I do or don’t. It is a command performance, but you can beg off if you want.”

  “John. I’ve set at tables while boring old farts talked to death the minutiae of music they know nothing about. I can handle an old sailor. If you have to go, I will join you.”

  “Ok.” He takes another sip.

  She says, “You know you dodged a question. Do you like him?”

  He looks her in the eye, “He is brand new on board. He started out as an intense, mercurial ass but he knows his job, and I don’t have to like him to work for him.”

  “Is he the reason you don’t want to go?”

  “No. I…I don’t think so. It is just a feeling.”

  “You once said your birth dad was Irish. Did he have the gift?”

  “Lisa, What gift?”

  “I’ve read that some among the Irish still have the druidic gifts. Maybe your dad had it.”

  He chuckles, “Lisa Stevenson, are you telling me you believe in supernatural hocus pocus?”

  She laughs, “No, but some people do and I know I don’t have all the answers.” She puts an arm across his shoulders, “When Ted left me, I didn’t know what to do. I needed a break from my life. When your mom suggested coming here it seemed perfect. Am I screwing things up by being here?”

  “No.” He looks her in the eye. “Look, you’re beautiful, smart, and kind. Ted was an idiot. My Mom always liked you and she is no doubt trying to match make. I don’t know if we might have some kind of future, but I don’t think that is what’s bothering me.”

  “When do we have to be at dinner?”

  “Three.”

  “That early?”

  “Yeah. Like I said, a command performance. If you don’t want to?”

  “I’ll go. Is the place far?”

  “No, just down on the beach at Waikiki.”

  “Well then, sailor. There is time for you to get laid before we go.”

  He chuckles, “I’m unattached, remember. What are you saying?”

  “I need it too.”

  He is surprised, “I didn’t think you… Really?”

  She takes his glass from him, sets it on a table, stands and takes his hand. As they walk to the single bedroom she asks, “Can I do something about the look of this place. It looks like a monk lives here.”

  “A monk does.”

  She smiles and pulls him toward the bedroom, “Not anymore.”

  CAPTAIN’S QUARTERS, K-322 KASHALOT, AKULA CLASS RUSSIAN SUBMARINE

  35 MILES SOUTH OF PEARL HARBOR,

  1325, 12 December, 1990

  Captain, First Rank, Vlad Popov, the submarine’s skipper lays fully dressed on his bunk reading ‘Hunt for Red October’ by Tom Clancy. He chuckles, “Captain Ramius, you are such a fool. I would not misunderstand something so simple as range.”

  A knock at the door and his executive officer, Captain Second Rank, Yuri Lebedev pokes his head in, “Sir, we are in position.”

  “Come in, Yuri.”

  “Yes, sir.” He enters the small cabin and closes the door. “What do you read, sir?”

  “It is a submarine book written by an American insurance s
alesman. He is astute in some things, but his Ramius is a fool.”

  “A Russian in an American book? So, this Ramius is a buffoonish villain?”

  “No, worse. He is a traitor to the motherland. It is impossible for someone so foolish to be given command.”

  “There was the Potemkin, sir.”

  “True, but that was a junior officer. Not a commander. They give his reason as being the loss of his wife and distrust of his own government to handle advanced technology. He evidently trusts the Americans more.”

  They both laugh.

  “Where did you learn to read American?”

  “English, Yuri, and it was in command school, and then a tour in Britain. It was a colleague in Britain who got me this funny novel.”

  “Thank you for sharing it, sir.”

  “Of course. Yuri, I need you to learn English as well. Now that the wall has fallen, we will need to interact with the Americans more often. For now, we play the game.”

  NAVY EXCHANGE, PEARL HARBOR NAVAL STATION

  1332, 12 December, 1990

  MM3 Karl Gustaf is wandering around the store looking for stuff to bring on Pac. He already has candy, cards, new head phones for his Walkman, and a few CD’s.

  A pretty lady walks up to him, “Can I help you?”

  He briefly meets her eyes, “Nope, your already married.”

  “I mean with your purchases.” She smiles.

  “I deploy tomorrow on my first cruise.”

  She looks at his cart, “I don’t see any books. Do you read?”

  “I have like fifteen on the boat already but there are never enough books.”

  She leads him to the book section, “What ship are you on?”

  “Boat. The San Francisco.”

  “My husband is on shore duty. He was on a cruiser. I thought boats were put on ships.”

  “Yeah, but submarines are always boats.” He looks at the books and sees a familiar title: “’Talon Sword.’ God, I had a roommate in prototype who was crazy about this book. Absolutely bonkers. I’ll get it.”

  “I’ve never read it.”

  “It is science fiction. It’s about a time machine out in Australia that brings a bunch of people from now to World War II. It is a good read. My roommate was convinced the machine was real.”

  “I’ll get it for my husband. It is more up his alley.”

  KUA LUA APARTMENTS, HONOLULU, HAWAII

  1410, 12 December, 1990

  The water steams up the translucent doors of the shower they are sharing. He shuts off the water and kisses her again.

  Opening the door with one hand, she wraps her other arm around him, “Baby, that was a good, um, shower.”

  He picks her up like she was a child and steps out of the shower onto the matt.

  “John, you’re so strong.”

  Another kiss, “You’re…Lisa, you’re just wow.”

  “We got to get ready, honey. Wow back to you.”

  BARBERS POINT NAVAL HOUSING, OAHU HAWAII

  1416, 12 December, 1990

  EM1 Stan Wankowski sits in a lazy boy chair with a lap board and papers. His 13-year-old son, Andy, sits on the couch with his 10-year-old sister, Stacy. His wife, Ruth is sitting in her own Lazy Boy. Their youngest, four-year-old Luke is on the floor playing with Lego’s.

  Stan asks, “Ok, what’s your order of march?”

  Andy says, “I am the warrior. I go first.”

  Ruth, “I’ll take up drag, so our elf wizard is in the middle.”

  Little Luke says, “Mamma’s character has a beard.”

  Ruth, “Of course she does. She’s a dwarf.”

  Luke asks, “Andy does your knight have a beard?”

  Andy says, “He isn’t a knight. Knights ride horses and serve a lord. I walk and serve myself.”

  “Oh.”

  Stan says, “Alright. The terrain is rather rocky and arid. There are scrub brush and grass struggling to survive. The hills are rugged but climbable. The old caravan path is worn from centuries of travel. Ok Groo, roll.”

  Andy says, “Dad it’s Groofius the wise.” He rolls a twenty-sided dice, “Four.”

  Luke asks, “How do you know he’s wise?”

  Andy says, “Because he’s still alive.”

  Stan says, “You see a solitary man walking toward you up the trail. He has a large two-handed sword over his right shoulder, a dagger at his side and a large pack on his back. He has a neatly trimmed grey beard and he is walking with a bit of a limp.” Stan rolls a die, “He looks up and sees you.”

  Andy says, “I say, ‘Guys, there is a warrior coming up the road.’”

  Luke asks, “How do you know he’s a warrior?”

  Andy says, “He has a sword.”

  Stacy says, “We have fought, like, umpteen monsters and stuff to get this far. If this guy is alone, he’s tough.”

  Andy says, “He might be lucky?”

  Ruth says, “In your dad’s game? No, he’s tough.”

  Andy says, “We’re tough too. I just continue walking toward him. There’s enough room to meet on the trail, right?”

  Stan says, “There is. Is that what you all do?”

  Heads nod.

  “Ok, when he gets close, he says, ‘Howdy folks.’”

  Andy says, “My warrior says, ‘Howdy stranger. I am Groofius. This is Aeroli. This is Gronk.’”

  “Pleased to meet you. Now, I hope you folks aren’t headed up to the Shadow Hills. There is a Gygax up there and it is really pissed off.”

  Andy and Ruth start laughing. Ruth says, “A Gygax, dear?”

  Stacy says, “I don’t get it.”

  Ruth answers, “Gary Gygax was one of the creators of D&D, dear.”

  “Oh.” Stacy says. “Aeroli asks the guy, ‘Who are you and what is a Gygax?’”

  Stan says in character, “My name is Robin of Thedes. A Gygax is basically a Great Wyrm without wings. They aren’t as smart as Dragons but they are really quick. Why would you go after a Gygax?”

  Ruth asks, “Why did you, sir?”

  Stan says, “The venom of the Gygax is worth a fortune in Tiburnia.”

  Andy asks, “Do they kidnap people?”

  Stan says, “Ah, a noble venture. I’m sorry folks. The larder was further down the cave. I did hear voices so some of its prisoners are still alive, but your friend has probably been eaten. Well, take care.”

  Andy asks, “Dad, why didn’t he rescue the people?”

  Stan says, “Ask him.”

  “Mister, why didn’t you rescue the prisoners?”

  Stan answers, “What do you take me for? A Paladin. No, not I. ‘Twas female voices and women are nothing but trouble. Especially those stupid enough to get caught by a Gygax.”

  Stacy says, “But, the crown princess of Muldoony was captured. The Queen is offering a huge reward.”

  Stan says, “Huge reward eh? So, what does a green bunch like you consider huge?”

  Andy says, “Her hand in marriage. Royal estates. Titles.”

  Stan says, “Baa. Have at it then. A title won’t feed you or keep you warm at night. Good day to you.” Stan continues, “The old man walks off.”

  CHAPTER 2

  KUA LUA APARTMENTS, HONOLULU HAWAII

  1430, 12 December, 1990

  John puts on his freshly cleaned dress blue uniform. He is wearing four rows of three ribbons below his submarine dolphins. Lisa walks out of the bedroom, wearing a beautiful blue wrap dress, strap heels, and pearl ear rings and necklace.

  “Wow. That is nice. You look incredible.”

  “Thank you. You’re looking good, too. What do all the medals mean?”

  “These are ribbons, the medals clank when you walk. Highly annoying.”

  She smiles, tilting her head. “Got it. What do they mean?”

  He points, “This one is a merit badge for making my bed nice…”

  “Come on, John. At least the top three.”

  “Ok, this one is the Defense Distinguished S
ervice Medal. I received it for a classified thing I did when I was on the SUBRON-14 staff in Holy Loch, Scotland.”

  “Classified?”

  “Yeah, not earth shattering or anything. Well, it was important. A lot of what I do is classified. Are you okay with that?”

  She thinks about it, “When your upset, worked up, or pissed off can we work out a code? I don’t need to know why. I just want to be able to help you.”

  “No code needed. I can say the day sucked, just not always why.”

  “Ok. What is the next one?”

  “This is the Meritorious Service Medal. I earned this as the engineer on the Albuquerque. We commissioned the boat without any incidents and ahead of schedule.”

  “A big deal that nothing went wrong? That’s scary.”

  “We count the most minor thing as an incident. A sailor screws up his logs and that is an incident. On submarines we have to.”

  “Ok, love. The next one?”

  “This is the Joint Service Commendation Medal. I earned it on the Parche. It is a spook boat and I got it for a spook thing.”

  “What’s a spook boat?”

  “Um. We did special stuff that people in suits needed us to do. It is a part of my career that has to be totally secret.”

  “Ok. Then you can keep my secrets too, right?” She puts her arms around him.

  He smiles, “If you like.”

  She kisses him, “I love you, John Morrison. I always have.”

  “I love you, too.”

  WAIKIKI BEACH, HI

  1442, 12 December, 1990

  LCDR Greg Backes and his wife Carol are walking down the beach with their young son between them. The two pick up the boy by the arms and swing him back and forth as he giggles.

  They set him down and he says, “Daddy, why do you have to go?”

  “My boat is deploying, son. When it goes, I have to go.”

  The little guy starts to cry, “It ain’t fair.”

  Greg squats down to face him at eye level, “Your right, Travis. It’s not fair. But it is my duty, son.”

  Travis still crying, “But why?”