Plague Ship
Overholt, on a secure channel from Langley.
    As founder of the Corporation, Juan maintained the title of chairman, and only one member of the crew, the elderly chief steward, Maurice, called him captain.
    “Just keeping the natives from getting too restless,” Cabrillo replied.
    “There wasn’t any indication that they are suspicious, was there?”
    “No, Lang. Despite the fact we’re only a couple of miles from the Bandar Abbas naval base, the Iranians are used to a lot of shipping coming in and out of here. They took one look at the ship, one at me, and knew we aren’t a threat.”
    “There’s a very narrow window in which to pull this off,” Overholt cautioned. “But if you think we should delay, I’ll understand.”
    “Lang, we are here, the rocket torpedoes are here, and the arms-export limitation talks with Russia are in two weeks. It’s now or never.”
    While the proliferation of nuclear material remained the most critical problem facing global security, the exportation of weapons systems to less-than-stable governments was also a top concern for Washington. Russia and China were racking up billions of dollars in sales for missile systems, combat aircraft, tanks, and even five Kilo Class subs that were recently bought by Tehran.
    “If you want proof,” Juan continued, “that Russia is supplying the Iranians with their VA-111 Shkval torpedoes, we go in tonight.”
    The Shkval was perhaps the most sophisticated torpedo ever built, capable of reaching speeds in excess of two hundred knots because it cut through the water in a cocoon of air in the form of supercavitating bubbles. It had a range of seventy-five hundred yards, and was reportedly very difficult to steer due to its incredible speed, so it was basically a last-resort weapon to be fired from a crippled submarine in order to destroy its attacker.
    “The Iranians claim to have developed their own version of the Shkval without Russian help, or so they say,” Max Hanley said. “If we can prove the Russians gave them the technology, despite their protests to the contrary, it will go a long way in hammering them on reducing arms exports in the future.”
    “Or this could blow up in our faces if you guys get caught,” Overholt said testily. “I’m not so sure this is still such a good idea.”
    “Relax, Langston.” Cabrillo laced his fingers behind his head, detected a little of the glue used to hold on his wig and carefully plucked it off. “How many jobs have we pulled off for you without a hitch? The Iranians won’t know what hit them, and we’ll be five hundred miles from the Gulf by the time they figure out we were in their submarine pen. And after they realize what happened, the first place they are going to look is the American Navy ships pulling interdiction duty up and down these waters, not a broken-down, Panamanian-flagged derelict with a bad steering bearing.”
    “Which reminds me, Mr. Overholt,” Eddie said from the head of the room. “You will have our naval forces pulled far enough back from Bandar Abbas that any charge of American intervention by Tehran will prove fruitless?”
    “There isn’t an American ship within a hundred miles of the port,” Overholt assured. “It took some doing to keep the Fifth Fleet brass from getting suspicions of their own, but we’re set on that end of it.”
    Cabrillo cleared his throat. “Let’s just do it. In twelve hours, we’ll have the proof you need to take the Russians to task. We all understand the risks, but if they mean that the Kremlin’s going to be forced to rethink selling arms to every mullah with deep pockets we have to go.”
    “I know. You’re right,” Overholt sighed. “Juan, just be careful, okay?”
    “Count on it, my friend.”
    “Do you need me to stay on the line?” the veteran CIA officer asked.
    “You know where to deposit the money once we’re out,” Juan replied. “Unless you want to know specifics of our operation, I think you should hang

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