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PATRICK DELANEY

primary concern. Now, Indonesia is certainly not our enemy, but let-
ting Dr. Gupta enter a sovereign foreign country would make this infi-
nitely more complicated.We can’t allow that to happen. Again.”

Dr. Stanley let the jibe pass. He had his reasons. Instead he contin-
ued to look calm and collected from behind his desk in the Pentagon.

“So what are the options other than assaulting the freighter?”
There was momentary silence in all quarters. The nasal voice of
Rear Admiral Thorn on Tripoli broke the spell.
“What do you recon boys think?”
Eyeball Lefleur was an experienced operator. Experienced enough
to let his old boss broach his plan. They hadn’t discussed it, but he
knew he would have one. Matt Jenson queued up.
“Sirs, I think we can lower the risk to Dr. Gupta by separating his
caretakers from the freighter.”
“How’s that, son?” the two-star boomed.
“Sir, an inadvertent naval presence in the proximity of Malaysia
Queen, like the Malaysians, ought to scare off any subs from surfacing.
So they can’t unload Dr. Gupta at sea. If said warship was also gen-
erally headed toward Surabaya, Malaysia Queen would have only two
choices. Either send off a fast boat under cover of darkness when rela-
tively inshore, or hang onto Dr. Gupta and head for parts unknown.”
The admiral grunted.
“Okay. If they head out to sea we’ll take the ship out there. And if
they head to shore in the fast boat?”
Jenson plunged ahead before either admiral or Eyeball could speak.
“If they do that, sir, it’ll be just the six or so bad guys plus Dr.
Gupta. It’ll be unplanned, so unlikely there’d be much onshore sup-
port.That’s the time to take them down.”
“And the Indonesia government won’t even know they’re there,”
Mani added.
Langley liked the plan. So did Admiral Chester. Commander
Rivers objected.

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“If they drop the fast boat a couple miles from shore, there’s no
way we’ll get a chopper there quick enough to meet them. They’ll
disappear in a heartbeat.”

Eyeball Lefleur jumped into the fray.
“Sir, we’ve looked at the freighter’s normal route to Surabaya. It’s
deep water for most of the trip. But there’s a stretch where it hugs the
Sumatra coast. The latest time they’re close to shore is off the Jambi
Point.We can preposition inland and let them come to us.”
“With a backup team at Tanjung Warukin Airfield, the only one
within hours,” Mani added.
Jenson was watching the monitors intently. Only he noticed
Commander Rivers turn to the rear admiral and silently mouth,
“Fishhook.”The rear admiral ducked off camera for a moment to confer
with him. The same thought must have occurred to Admiral Chester
at that very moment. He cleared his throat.
“Thorn, I’d like you and your recon team on the alternate secure
line for a moment.”
“Switching now, sir.”
The blank monitor left Manisha Bharat and Matt Jenson alone with
the ambassador and his head of security in the windowless basement.
“I wonder what that’s all about,” Manisha murmured.
Jenson stood and poured himself more coffee.Whatever it was, it
was as important as Virtual Certainty.

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Chapter Twenty-Seven

T he embassy screen went dark. Once Surabaya was offline, the
military commanders could discuss other matters.
“Does this sound like an acceptable plan to you, Admiral Thorn?”
Admiral Chester asked.

It was Commander Rivers’ bearded visage that responded.
“The timing is the issue, sir.”
“Fishhook?What’s going on out there atWestern Reef,Thorn?”
The one-star shook his head.
“Not clear, sir.There’s been a big ramp-up in security around the
reef. More ships, more anti-sub defenses. And a brand-newYuan-class
sub. Quiet as a ghost. Haven’t gotten close enough for a good look.”
“What else is coming in there?”
“Everything. An airfield, fuel farm, and power plant for starters.
NSA thinks they’re building some ultra-secure computer facilities and
satellite access.”
“For eavesdropping? Or something more? We sure as hell better
find out.”
Rear Admiral Thorn glanced over to his special operations man.
“Sir, we’ve been monitoring the patrols aroundWestern Reef for weeks,
waiting for the right opportunity to get some onsite recon.Two nights from
now is the most favorable moment to attempt an insertion, sir.”

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“Oh, hell.What a risk.”
Admiral Chester fell silent as he pondered the options. Getting
caught was out of the question. But why all the cyber stuff? And did it
have something to do with the scientist? They needed answers.
“But very well. Fishhook is authorized.”
“Aye aye, Admiral.”
“But,Thorn,” he continued, “we need this scientist back at all costs.
Do you have the assets?”
The rear admiral grimaced.
“Maybe. But not if we need to cover the whole Indonesian coastline.”
Admiral Chester turned to look at the adjoining screen, where
Eyeball Lefleur was listening silently.
“I see. Captain Lefleur, your team and, uh, other assets can spear-
head this. I don’t want Dr. Gupta slipping through our fingers. Get the
operational details to Admiral Thorn ASAP so logistics can work this
through.”
Rear Admiral Thorn opened his mouth, but Admiral Chester
interrupted.
“And one more thing. This business with Chinese agents, dead or
otherwise, makes me nervous. I don’t want any discussion of Fishhook
with your CIA contact. Do I make myself perfectly clear, Captain
Lefleur?”
“Absolutely, sir.”
This time, the rear admiral waited until his superior had closed his
connection.Then he resumed his orders to Eyeball.
“Captain Lefleur, as you heard, Operation Fishhook is a GO.We’ll
need all of the SOF from Tripoli available in a little less than thirty-six
hours. SEALS from Minnesota will handle the insertion, but I want the
rest for backup in case they need a forced extraction. If you require
them, that’s all the time you get. Otherwise, we take Dr. Gupta at sea.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now get that damn scientist back.”

S 99 S

Chapter Twenty-Eight

M anisha andTurtle were poring over a regional map spread across
the embassy communications table, tracing the route of Malacca
Queen.The air-conditioned basement room was quiet.The ambassador
had excused himself from the room for breakfast. Eyeball’s bald head
suddenly reappeared on the monitor, with Private Jimenez behind him.
The captain looked far less confident without all the brass present.

“What’s the verdict, Eyeball?” Mani asked.
“We’re a GO.Admiral Chester has asked the Royal Malaysian Navy
to send a warship out ofTanjung Pengelih near Singapore.They should
be on station well ahead of the freighter at the mouth of the Strait.
That’ll keep Malacca Queen in her lane and spook off any subs.”
“Great.”
“Are the submarines really that much of a threat?” Mani asked.
“The Chinese have the world’s second largest sub fleet,” Jenson
responded.
Eyeball chimed in.
“And they’ve been very active around those artificial reefs being
built up in the South China Sea.And south of the Malacca Strait.We’re
not sure what that’s about. Could be just spying on their neighbors.
They haven’t ventured much into the Strait itself, likely because we
can hear a pin drop in there.”

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He paused, thinking.
“But subs aren’t the only problem.There’s just no way to cover all
that coastline. It’d take a thousand marines and God knows how many
boats.”
“We’ve been looking at that,” Jenson said.
On the monitor appeared a chart showing Malacca Queen’s usual
route to Surabaya.
“As you can see, once the freighter passes Jambi Point, it won’t be
anywhere close to land until the harbor at Surabaya.”
Jenson traced the line on his screen with his finger.
“Guessing a speed of around ten knots, Malacca Queen will be pass-
ing Jambi Point between 0500 and 0600 tomorrow, with sunrise at
0720.Theoretically, under cover of darkness they could drop the fast
boat anywhere north of that in this big bight.”
The thumbnail image of Eyeball appeared. He was hunched over
an off-screen chart.
“True. But they’re only really close in at either end of the bay.”
“And that northern point up near Tembilan looks like quite a slog
across the sand, with no road access and no real airport.”
“Yup.Whereas launching just above Jambi Point lets them use the
freighter as cover from the warship, and the point will block any visual
tracking once they pass it.”
Manisha Bharat stepped closer to the monitor, her shoulder press-
ing against Jenson’s arm. “And several small rivers snake inland from
behind that little sand island, so the boat could outrun any pursuit.”
“Copy that,” Eyeball agreed.
Jenson looked at the monitor, and then at Manisha Bharat.
“That’s gotta be what they’ll try.”
The large hand of Wild Cat Jimenez came in to view and tapped
the chart.
“We can put a team in upriver and take them there. Plus a van
full of marines dressed as civilians at that airport in case they slip

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PATRICK DELANEY

by. Maybe some spotters along the beach in case they try something
tricky. Shouldn’t take too many men.”

“What about the Indonesian navy?” Mani asked.
“They’re big,” Eyeball answered. “Lots of ships, all the way up to
attack subs. But nothing in the area of interest, so far.”

S 102 S

Chapter Twenty-Nine

S EAL Teams were on the beach and in the river after sundown.
But their orders were explicit. They would return to Tripoli by
1200 hours, no exceptions. Captain Eyeball Lefleur and his team in-
serted even later from an MH-605 Knighthawk helicopter. Two vans
met them on an unused back road.They would cover the airport, with
a platoon of marine recon in reserve. Malacca Queen was being tracked
by NSA and DIA satellites, along with sonar from USS Tripoli and USS
Minnesota, a Virginia-class attack submarine.

Twelve hundred kilometers away, a limousine rolled to a stop near
the massive Jalesveva Jayamahe monument. Atop a base of circular white
colonnade stood an enormous green statue of the Indonesian naval hero,
staring out to sea.The sixty-meter-tall figure seemed to be inspecting the
cabled Suramadu Bridge, which crossed the Madura Strait to the island of
the same name.Tugs, container ships, and barges plied the congested wa-
ters.At the northern entrance to the port a long container ship dock was
busy with half a dozen hulks. Every nook and cranny of the waterline was
crammed with industry. Manisha Bharat and Matt Jenson exited the em-
bassy car and strolled out to the railing of the monument and lighthouse.
They had been detailed to assess the port facilities at Surabaya.

Manisha Bharat took in the intense port activity all around them.
“I sure hope it doesn’t come to rescuing Dr. Gupta here.”

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Jenson, too, scanned the waterway.
“There must be a thousand places to hide a man within fifty feet
of the water.”
He paused.
“But he’ll leave that ship tonight, or he’ll be taken off by force long
before that ship arrives here.”
“Then is there any point in staying here, Matt?”
He turned to look at her. She was wearing blue jeans and a tight,
sleeveless blue T-shirt that hugged her figure. Her long dark hair flut-
tered gently behind her in the afternoon sea breeze, and her dark eyes
flashed magically with the red of the sun.
“Well, the view from where I’m standing is exceedingly lovely,” he
said softly. A slight flush of color appeared in her cheeks. “And at the
moment, there really isn’t anywhere closer to the action, unless you’d
like to join a few thousand marines out on Tripoli.”
She laughed.
“One is plenty for now, thanks.”

KD Pahang benefitted from the latest destroyer transfer and anti-
submarine warfare technology, courtesy of the United Kingdom.The
Royal Malaysian patrol vessel cruised at minimal headway a couple
miles northeasterly of Jambi Point. About 0530 the low rumble of a
second diesel engine echoed from off the point and carried upriver
to seasoned operators waiting quietly within the jungle.The tropical
moon had set below the morning marine haze hours earlier. Malacca
Queen approached its closest point to land in near total darkness. Its
position obstructed Banji point from KD Pahang. Attentive ears soon
caught a high-pitched whine that was only partially covered by the
bigVolvo diesel of Malacca Queen. Night vision scopes quickly picked
up the fast boat that was already roaring toward shore. It headed di-
rectly toward land, skimming west along Itik Beach and then upriver
into the muddy waters of the Simpang River.

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ENTANGLED JASMINE

Radio chatter came alive.The rigid hulled inflatable plowed pow-
erfully into the mouth of the river. It ran mid-channel until past the
sand-clogged ingress. Then it edged closer to the tangle of branches
lining the banks. The nearest town was a solid fifteen miles distant.
Rantarasau had a small dirt runway that was covered by a dozen opera-
tors and two ATVs. And it was twice that distance to the big airport
near Simpang.

In the darkness overhead a small drone tracked the boat’s move-
ment, and camouflaged spotters handed off the progress upriver. Each
man held his weapon ready in case of landing.The rigid-hulled inflat-
able would be allowed as far as the ambush, but it would never leave
the river.

At the two-mile mark, a concealed figure lay motionless. His camos
were damp from the humidity and sweat. Unseen insects worked at his
fatigues beneath him. He kept his eye riveted to the night scope on his
Barrett .50 caliber rifle. His elevated blind afforded him a clean look
down a good stretch of river. A few feet to his right, Randy Duggan’s
spotter was also watching the water, quiet as death.

Duggan saw the phosphorescent bow wave first. Then bright
silhouettes. He counted them twice. Yup, five of ’em. The fast boat
weaved upriver, hugging the near bank. If necessary, he could take out
the engine block from here with one round from the big Barrett.The
fast boat passed out of view momentarily in one of the many shallow
bends.Then it bounced back into view. Only two occupants were still
in the boat. The SEAL sounded the alarm. The RIB veered around a
sharp bend and again disappeared from view.The two-man SEAL team
collapsed quickly on the site from the rise of the steep bank. A single
shot from an MP5 rang out.The outboards were whining loudly with
the propeller out of the water.The two frogmen could see the driver
slumped over the wheel, the front of his head blown across the pon-
toon ahead of him.The jungle erupted in light and sound as an explo-
sive was tripped.The two commandos hit the ground simultaneously,

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PATRICK DELANEY

the shattered engine launching overhead and into the trees with the
massive blast.

A half mile back downriver, an SUV roared to life as three pas-
sengers piled in.The blackToyota Hilux slammed out onto the narrow
jungle trail, the driver using night vision goggles rather than head-
lights. Branches tore viciously at the doors and wheels as it raced in-
land south and west.

Listening posts picked up theToyota’s engine, and there was a mad
scramble to get eyes on it.The drone that had been surveilling the RIB
turned sharply south, gained some altitude, and was vectored in.The
airport teams were now on high alert for the SUV.

The drone operator picked up the Hilux just after it bounced out
onto a one-lane dirt road. Observers aboard Tripoli and at the Simpang
airport and the embassy in Surabaya all watched the live feed. The
Toyota continued to careen at high speed along the road. The drone
pilot switched from night vision to thermal. The SUV turned at a
bend in the road, revealing only a single occupant. Instantly the drone
turned away to retrace the route from the river.

Down below, a single-engine Cessna had been wheeled out of the
brush. Its engine sputtered to life and it began rolling down the dirt
road in the opposite direction. It was a violent but successful takeoff,
considering that there were three occupants adding to the weight.The
drone returned in time to see the Cessna turn sharply south at treetop
level, easily outrunning the small drone.

Captain Eyeball Lefleur wiped the perspiration from his bald head
and closed his eyes to concentrate. This mission had gone real bad in
a real hurry. He stood in front of the monitor relaying data from an
AWACS flight covering the mission.The small Cessna was flying so low
that its track was intermittent.At the moment it was heading south by
southeast. Meanwhile, the clock was running. Deployed SEALS and
marines were already hurrying to extract from near Jambi Point.

S 106 S

Chapter Thirty

T he warfare center aboard Tripoli was a beehive of activity. Captain
Lefleur arrived back by helo at midday, with orders to report
upstairs immediately. He met privately with Rear Admiral Thorn and
Commander Rivers first.The admiral was hot, but he’d worked with
Eyeball before and respected him.

“What went wrong, Eyeball?”
The admiral’s stern eyes bore into him.
“Well, sir.They had a well-orchestrated plan, prepositioned assets,
and an effective team. Not the sort of plan you come up with on the
fly.”
“So you think they were tipped off?”
Captain Lefleur weighed his response carefully.
“Yes, sir, I do. But that’s not an excuse, sir. In retrospect, we should
have intervened the moment Gupta and his escort hit the river. We
planned to take them at their most vulnerable, which was to be where
they beached.”
“And?”
“They got airborne before we anticipated. A stashed plane and
SUV, a diversionary plan, and men in place. ”
Commander Rivers stood silently nearby. He would have done the
same thing. But his mind was already on Fishhook.

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PATRICK DELANEY

“AWACS has your Cessna, although intermittently. Generally
moving southeast. Any idea where their headed?”

Eyeball shook his head.
“Negative. But they need a landing strip, or at least a road. The
foreign party interested in him will want to remain anonymous, so
unlikely that he’d be transferred to a plane or boat.”
Rivers nodded agreement.
“Which leaves transfer to a sub, or a prolonged stay out of sight
somewhere.”
Admiral Thorn looked at his watch.
“Gentleman, we’ll be running both Fishhook and this recovery
from Tripoli, so I’ve designated a small room off the warfare center
as the command center for Operation Scientist. Eyeball, I’ve brought
over Commander Bud Rogers to call the shots, since your team will
be tactical for this.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
The admiral continued.
“Our main focus for the next forty-eight hours will be Fishhook,
but you’ll have all the AWACS and satellite surveillance you’ll need.
Unfortunately, your tactical backup will be limited.You’ll have a pla-
toon of marine recon for a rapid reaction team.”
Commander Rivers’ hard eyes met Eyeball’s.
“Bud Rogers arrived overnight, and seems to know as much as we
do,” the bearded SEAL commander said. “And for what it’s worth, he
says the same thing you do.They knew we were on to them.”
Admiral Thorn tapped a pencil on the table, thinking.
“Hard to know who to trust here, isn’t it, Captain? Your team is
all good men. But that leaves this CIA woman and any spooks she
contacted, all the way up to Dr. Stanley in the Pentagon. It includes
the chain of contacts with Malaysian Navy frigate, and even your old
friend Turtle Jenson.”
Eyeball’s answer flashed out.

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“Turtle Jenson is one of the good guys. He’s saved a lot ofAmerican
lives in his time, including mine.”

Admiral Thorn put up a hand.
“Okay, okay. I’ve seen his records. Impressive, to say the least. But
be careful, Captain. People change.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good luck, Eyeball.You’re gonna need it.”
Eyeball saluted and exited out into the companionway. He worked
his way through the crowded and tense environs of the warfare center
to an unmarked hatchway.The other warfare center.

Commander Bud Rogers was tall and thin, with long arms. The
buzz cut he’d just gotten left his head looking unnaturally small for the
rest of his frame.The bloodshot eyes and lack of any skin color belied
the long hours at work. Eyeball had met him many years back, dur-
ing escape and evasion training. He recalled thinking that the skinny
youngster wouldn’t last a day. Man, what a mistake.

Eyeball secured the hatch behind him and the two shook hands.
“How are you, Eyeball?”
“Well, fine, considering that I just let the most valuable damn man
on the planet slip right through my fingers.”
Could use some sleep, too, he thought.
The other man sniffled.
“Yeah, that sucks. Sorry.”
He unrolled a paper chart of Southeast Asia and flattened it atop
the small table in the center of the room.The Cessna’s flight path was
plotted up through fifteen minutes ago.
“On the plus side, it’s a slow plane, and we’ve got great sur-
veillance coverage. And there’s not a lot of places for them to go
to ground. Unless they’re going to pass him off somehow, the only
real option is to hide him in one of the big cities, like Denpasar or
Surabaya.”

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PATRICK DELANEY

Eyeball tapped the chain of island nations forming a tail on the big
islands of Indonesia.

“What if they just keep heading south?”
“Those are impoverished little postage stamp countries. Not par-
ticularly friendly, and mostly Islamic. But we could get him back with-
out too much fuss.”
The two continued to ponder the chart.
“What if they drop him off at one of these Podunk fuel stops along
the way?”
Rogers pushed his wire frame glasses back up his nose and smiled.
“Way ahead of you. Our satellite coverage is so good that when
they refuel, I can tell you the pocket in which the pilot keeps his
keys. Plus, I’ve got some Air Force para-rescue guys following along
behind them in a chartered plane.” He paused, thinking. “The real
issue is going to be having assets in place to nab them at the key
moment.”
Eyeball looked up from the map.
“Did you get briefed on Fishhook, Bud? My team is the only ground
assets we’re gonna get.”
The commander straightened his long frame and sat up.
“Crap. In that case we’d better get your team in the air. We’ll
chopper you over to the airbase in Singapore and then scramble a jet.
Maybe aim for Denpasar and redirect on the fly.”
Eyeball kept his gaze locked on his colleague’s face.
“Wait one. Let’s talk about assets first. Who’ve you got that can
help? I got the impression Mr.A wasn’t working alone, and now there’s
these paras.”
Rogers whistled.
“You don’t miss a trick, Eyeball. I’ll sure give you that.”
He stood up and paced to the far wall.Three steps.
“You certainly have a right to know. First, the paras are friends
of mine, literally just here on R&R. They’d had just enough to drink

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ENTANGLED JASMINE

before I called to think that this would be fun. Can’t use ’em any fur-
ther than what they’re already doing.”

His tone became serious.
“The rest of this is classified way beyond you and your team. I’ll
tell you what I can, but you may not discuss it with your team, or
anyone else.”
“You got it. Shoot.”
Rogers paced back across the room and leaned against the closed
hatch.
“Well, Mr. A is the easy part. He’s a local asset in Kuala Lumpur.
Inside the federal police force. He won’t be of any use outside of
Malaysia.”
“And his buddy?”
Eyeball could see the other man’s jaw clench and unclench.
“The other, uh, individual is a U.S. intelligence operative who is in
the area on another matter.”
“What the hell does that mean? What could be more important
than protectingVirtual Certainty?”
Commander Rogers shook his head violently back and forth.
“Can’t go there, Eyeball. And you wouldn’t want me to.The indi-
vidual will help where possible, but is not detailed to us.”
“Damn it.Wealthiest fucking country on the planet, and they can
only spare four marines to save themselves.”
Rogers tilted his head philosophically.
“There is one more consideration.”
“Such as?”
The commander reached forward and rested a finger on the
Spratly Islands.
“Does the timing of all this strike you as odd, Captain Lefleur?
The Chinese already have at least three ten-thousand-foot runways on
these artificial islands they’ve been creating, and all of a sudden they
begin intensely building on one that’s too small for a runway or proper

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PATRICK DELANEY

military base.And the creator ofVirtual Certainty goes missing within
a few hundred miles during his one trip out of the U.S. in decades?”

Eyeball rubbed his sleep-deprived eyes.
“Are you saying the Chinese might be building some sort ofVirtual
Certainty island?”
The other man put his palms up.
“Who knows? But since the source of all knowledge on the subject
is just outside the door, let’s go have a look.”

S 112 S

Chapter Thirty-One

I t was gut-wrenchingly quiet in the warfare center of USS Tripoli. A
translucent vertical glass display screen carried the most up-to-date
status for Operation Fishhook. Rear Admiral Thorn and Commander
Rivers stood to one side conversing. The four officers converged.
Rogers and Lefleur towered over their counterparts. Admiral Thorn
spoke first.

“Gentlemen, what’s the latest with Operation Scientist?”
“The Cessna we presume to be carrying Dr. Gupta is presently just
north of Jakarta, zigzagging southeast,” Commander Rogers replied.
“Captain Lefleur and his tactical team will need to leave immediately
to be in position to intercept them.”
“Very good.”
“May we ask what the situation is with Fishhook?” Rogers asked.
The group turned to face the vertical display. The SEAL com-
mander provided the update.
“As you can see, the area of interest isWestern Reef, this doughnut-
shaped island forty miles east of Fiery Cross Reef. The whole island is
just over three miles long, and has a large body of water in the middle.”
“Not very attractive for building a military base,” Rogers said.
“Precisely. And yet there has been intense Chinese activity there,
protected by numerous sea, air, and subsurface patrols.”

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PATRICK DELANEY

Rear Admiral Thorn pointed to a long ridge running southwest to
northeast along the ocean floor just six miles north of the island.

“TheVirginia-class submarine Minnesota has spent the last couple of
days slithering between those patrols and along the base of this ridge.
After nightfall tonight she’ll release two SDVs from her dry shelters.
That’ll give us a primary team of six swimmers and a backup team of
the same number.”

“Why release them so early, sirs?” Eyeball asked. “The SEAL
DeliveryVehicle should be able to make that distance in under an hour.”

Commander Rivers stroked his thick beard.
“See all these other markers? Note the yellow one here.”
“What is it?”
Admiral Thorn elaborated.
“One of the newest attack submarines in the Chinese fleet. So
quiet that one of ours almost collided with it last month. It’s a Yuan
095 class, with a new hull design that reduces the acoustic signature.
And just to make it more interesting for the insertion team, we think
this particular Yuan is carrying a full complement of Chinese Special
Forces, known as Sea Dragons.”
Commander Rivers tapped the yellow marker again.
“If we have their patrol schedules worked out, theYuan will depart
on a sector patrol at about 2000 hours. This is crucial, because all of
the area north of that spot shallows up way off shore, making passage
there impractical.”
Eyeball was suddenly glad he was working Scientist instead of
Fishhook.
“What’s the plan for the insertion team, sir? Just a sneak and peek?”
The SEAL returned a hard, flat glare.
“Not quite, Captain. We’ve been anticipating this operation for
quite some time.The operators are all Chinese-American SEALS with
extensive language and computer skills.They are going to push this as
far as it can be pushed, without getting caught.”

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ENTANGLED JASMINE

“But,” he added, “that’s why we want every possible man and ma-
chine available to extract them, if necessary.”

The rear admiral cleared his throat.
“Captain, every moment we’re standing here, that Cessna is flying
further away.”
“Leaving now, sir.”

S 115 S

Chapter Thirty-Two

M anisha Bharat and Matt Jenson had both been in the windowless
communications room of the embassy since well before dawn,
monitoring the events unfolding more than seven hundred miles away
to the northwest.The crisp, military delivery of the operators had last-
ed as far as the explosion on the riverbank. Now only an intermittent
radar signal was left. No word from Eyeball Lefleur either. The prey
was still one step ahead of the hunters.The energy of the chase gone,
the room had taken on the excitement of a mausoleum.They grabbed
pagers and went out for lunch.

The embassy in Surabaya was a well-manicured, high-walled en-
closure situated in a tree-lined residential area of the city. The teksi
driver ignored their request for the waterfront, instead depositing
them at a restaurant in the city center. Cassava leaf soup followed by
the house specialty of fish and crab.The pagers remained quiet as they
strolled the local shops.

It was early evening before they were called back down to the
basement. Eyeball was ready on the secure link. The heavy-set intel-
ligence officer on duty scowled as they came around the console to
look at his screen. He knew all about Jenson’s past, but Jenson was still
only a civilian now.A civilian with a top secret clearance whom he had
been ordered to cooperate with fully. Jenson peered over his shoulder

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without taking the hint. The marine glanced at Manisha Bharat, but
received only a flat, businesslike stare.

On screen, Eyeball was wearing ear protection and a gray jump-
suit. Behind him looked to be the cargo bay of a plane. Probably an
Osprey, Jenson guessed.

“Eyeball, what’s going on out there?” Jenson asked.
“You should know first that this operation is now being run by
naval intelligence aboard Tripoli. An old acquaintance of mine by the
name of Commander Bud Rogers. Good man.”
Alarm bells went off in Jenson’s head. Why only a commander
running an important op like this? And Eyeball was choosing his words
very carefully. He’s holding back, Jenson thought.
Eyeball continued on.
“Anyway, at the moment the Cessna is just a little north of Jakarta.
It’s heading southeast in a zigzag. No way to tell what their destination
might be.”
“Best guess?”
Eyeball made a face as he put his palms up.
“No idea. But there just aren’t that many options for the kidnap-
pers. Maybe they’ll try to cool off the chase by stashing him in one
of the big cities, like Surabaya, Denpasar, or Jakarta. I think it’s much
more likely that they’ll try and hand him off to whichever foreign
government is behind this, but obviously that’s highly problematic for
them. We’ve got big-time surveillance on every landing field large
enough to dribble a basketball.”
“Unless they just drop him off on a backroad somewhere,” Mani said.
Eyeball shook his head vigorously.
“It’s an option. But we’ve got the Indonesian security forces all
over it now. And even if successful, they would still have to find a way
to get him out of the country.”
“I don’t think they’d have any difficulty going to ground for quite a
while here in Surabaya,” she countered.

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PATRICK DELANEY

“True, but there’s a huge Indonesian naval presence here. Tough
place to get him out from.”

Eyeball agreed with Jenson.
“Yeah, and I believe that’s the case with Denpasar, also.”
“So what’s your plan, Eyeball?” Mani asked.
“We want to be close by when it’s time to intervene. So as you can
see, we’re airborne from Tripoli. Our flight plan is for Denpasar, but
that’s basically the best default position until we get some hard intel.”
Something just didn’t add up. Jenson turned suddenly to Mani.
“Mani, would you mind if I had a private conversation with
Eyeball?”
She studied him, her look suddenly icy.
“Sure.”
Jenson glanced over at the marine sergeant. A new grimace, over
the old one.
“Why the hell not.”
When the others had left the room, Jenson laid it out for Eyeball.
“Come on, Eyeball. A commander running an op this important?
And now only one tactical team? What’s going on here? Remember,
I’m a civilian. Maybe I’ll just cruise on back to the medical conference
and spend some vacation time with my brother.”
A long sigh escaped Eyeball’s bald visage. On more than one occa-
sion back in the day, he’d entrusted his life to his CO.
“What I am about to tell you is highly classified,” he began.
“So what’s new?”
“I was specifically ordered by Admiral Thorn not to share any of
this other op with my ‘intel friends.’”
Jenson paused. He didn’t want to get Eyeball in trouble.
“Well, I’m not in intel,” he said.
Eyeball waved a hand at him.
“Forget it,Turtle.These spooks always complicate everything.”
“So here’s the poop.There is a massive but covert operation under

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way to put some SEALs with computer and language training on one
of those artificial reefs the Chinese are building out. In fact, there’s at
least a suspicion that Western Reef may even have some sort of con-
nection to Virtual Certainty. All of the brass and all of the assets are
tied up in Operation Fishhook.”

“But why now?Why couldn’t they do this in a couple of weeks?”
“They’re taking advantage of the Chinese patrol schedules. The
single biggest problem has been the presence of a brand-new type 095
attack submarine that’s sitting smack-dab in the middle of the inser-
tion point.”
Suddenly a lot of things were making sense.
“And why didn’t the admiral want us to know?”
The captain raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.The Bayou drawl
thickened.
“Gosh, I dunno. Something about dead Chinese agents and a guy
named Johnny.”
Jenson smiled wryly as he eyed his old war buddy.The other man
read his thoughts.
“No!You’ll get me court-martialed. The brass didn’t want her to
know.”
“Eyeball, she needs to know. And she’s probably already pissed.”
He didn’t put up much of a fight.
“Well, we do need all the help we can get on this one. Just be as
discreet as you can. All right,Turtle?”
“Of course. We’ll head down to Denpasar, too. Have a look
around.”
Forgotten words suddenly flashed through his mind. Pura Tanah
Lot.

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Chapter Thirty-Three

P retty frickin’ shallow. The skipper of Minnesota kept the thought to
himself. The Virginia-class nuclear attack submarine had about
fifty feet of water below the keel, and less than three hundred above
deck. Darkness had come topside several hours ago. He growled the
question for the umpteenth time.

“Anything moving out there?”
Several young faces turned from their screens with a collective
“No, sir.”
He took one more turn around his command chair. The old subs
had periscopes. He’d love to have one now, just as a final assurance.
“Very well, then. First Officer, you may complete the lockout
sequence.”
Minnesota was unique in having not one, but two dry shel-
ters for deploying SDVs. Each of the SEAL Delivery Vehicles was
manned by two pilots and could carry six combat swimmers. The
teams had been ready and waiting for some time. The skipper had
been cautious though. The Chinese sub out there was a challenge
to pick up when under way, and lying silently in wait could prove
their undoing.
“SDVs away, sir.”
It was a scant six miles to the insertion site, and it shallowed up

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long before that. If there was going to be trouble, it would come in the
next thirty minutes or so.

The transit time came and went.The SDVs signaled no contacts at
all.The old skipper was relieved. For now.

“Helm, bring us to a heading of sixty-five degrees and proceed at
two knots.This depth.”

“Aye, sir. Sixty-five degrees, this depth at two knots.”
The first officer’s quizzical expression caught his attention. The
skipper stepped over to the situation chart.
“Let’s see if we can get ourselves some free intel.”
“Sir?”
He tapped the screen at the southern edge of the artificial island.
“If the brass is right about the patrol schedule for that enemy sub,
by repositioning we should just be able to catch its signal as it turns
the point.”
“And if there’s no signal?”
The skipper raised his eyebrows.
“Well, that’s a question, isn’t it?”

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Chapter Thirty-Four

A tense silence gripped those seated in the briefing room aboard
Tripoli. On screen was the theatre command group from Japan.
Dr. Charles Stanley sat patiently beside Admiral Jack Chester and his
key subordinates. He’d flown directly there after that last testy call.
Commander Zach Rivers entered last and took his seat, the latest up-
date in hand.

“Gentlemen, my apologies for the delay. The current status re-
mains good. As you know, the SDVs reached their insertion point two
hours ago.The six-man alpha team has entered the base, and they are
supported by bravo team waiting at shore. Bravo reports no evidence
of alarms or detection.We expect no communication from alpha un-
less they are compromised.”

A relieved murmur sprang up on Admiral Chester’s side, and he
ended it with a rap of his knuckles on the table.

“That’s promising news, Commander. Anything to add from
Minnesota, or from surface contacts?”

Rear Admiral Thorn fielded the new question.
“Surface contacts are all nominal, sir. That is, there is no sign of
heightened or unusual activity from the enemy patrols.”
He cleared his throat.
“However, there is one point of possible concern. As you know,

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Minnesota positioned herself to insert the SDVs the moment the new
Yuan-class submarine was expected to depart on patrol. Detecting no
evidence of the sub’s presence, the mission was launched on schedule.
The skipper, Rog Baker, then elected to reposition and confirm the
Yuan’s anticipated position.”

On screen, Admiral Chester nodded approvingly.
“Rog is a first-rate skipper.”
Rear Admiral Thorn continued.
“Apparently so, sir. He reports no contacts on the Yuan. He be-
lieves that she is not in the area.”
Conversation erupted in both rooms. Dr. Stanley’s calm voice car-
ried above the rest.
“Admiral Thorn, why does he believe that?”
“He has taken pains, discreetly, to gauge the positions of the other
vessels in the area. In short, he feels the current positions assume the
absence of theYuan.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Admiral Chester was taken aback. “What
does this mean?”
Commander Bud Rogers responded from Tripoli.
“Sir, at an immediate tactical level, this is good news for Fishhook.
There is one less obstacle to mission success. Of concern, though, is
what theYuan is presently up to. As you probably know, there is some
indirect evidence to suggest that a force of Chinese Sea Dragons, ma-
rine SOF, are aboard.”
Both conference rooms fell completely silent. Admiral Chester
looked around his own room, and then back to the camera.
“How about it, people? Anyone have an idea what that sub is up to?”
There was no immediate response. SEAL Commander Rivers
broke the silence.
“We can only guess, Admiral. That delivery capability along with
a special operations contingent could be used for harassment of any
regional competitors, such as the Philippines,Vietnam, or Japan.”

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PATRICK DELANEY

Commandeer Rogers watched as Dr. Stanley turned and spoke
quietly in Admiral Chester’s ear. He didn’t need the audio.

“This may be aboutVirtual Certainty, and Dr. Gupta.”

An impromptu, private meeting immediately convened between
Commander Rogers, Dr. Stanley, and Admiral Chester.

“As I reported previously, sir, Operation Scientist is greatly
under-resourced.”

The admiral didn’t like having it pointed out.
“I concede your point, Commander. But Fishhook is in its most
crucial stage. It’ll be over in a few hours, and until then I don’t want
any unusual activity. Anything that might tip the Chinese off.”
“Yes, sir. But I think you’ll agree that we could alert our sonar and
other listening posts about theYuan.The sooner we know where it is,
the better, regardless of its mission.”
The admiral grunted his approval.
“Anything else?”
“Yes, but for Dr. Stanley, sir.”
“Fine.Then if you two will excuse me.”
The admiral made a beeline for the door, leaving the other two
men alone.
“What is it, Commander? Be candid.”
“Sir, I’m concerned about Dr. Gupta’s situation.There are a lot of
potential scenarios to cover.”
“I share your concern, entirely, Bud. And it sounds like once
Fishhook is complete that you’ll have much more in the way of assets.”
“Yes, sir. But every minute he is out of our grasp is an opportunity
for someone to extract information from him, torture him, or lever-
age him.”
“What do you have in mind, son?”
“I was hoping you might re-task your operative to me. His work so
far has been impressive.”

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Dr. Stanley shook his head vigorously.
“Bud, I am one hundred percent supportive of your efforts. And
you have one of my top operatives working the mission with you now.
The other agent is working a very sensitive project that is as critical as
the rest of this.”
“Forgive me, sir, but as critical as Fishhook? As critical as Virtual
Certainty? As Dr. Gupta?”
“Yes, that’s correct. I will assist you in every way possible, Bud. I
will also keep our friend updated as to your situation, so that any as-
sistance that can be provided will be. But for reasons I cannot discuss,
that agent needs to remain in the shadows.”
The meeting ended there. No hard feelings, just a hard stop.
It was late, but time was precious. Commander Rogers had con-
siderable authority within naval intelligence, and he put all of it to
work. If theYuan was headed toward Indonesia, he wanted every pos-
sible listening post scouring for a signal. He needed to know where it
was headed, and when it would arrive. It was also time to call Eyeball
Lefleur. A submarine lurking offshore to pick up the scientist changed
everything.

S 125 S

Chapter Thirty-Five

S he opened her door to his light knock.
“May I come in?”
She gestured wordlessly. It was a small room with only minimal fur-
niture.A watercolor depicting a temple scene hung above the ample bed.
Over the dark mahogany desk was an oil painting of a sunrise behind the
Suramadu Bridge. Jenson stepped past her and over to the window. Bright
sunshine bathed an immaculate green lawn. Hidden by a lattice of crimson
bougainvillea beyond was a large wall meant to keep out intruders. He
heard the door close, and she came around in front of him.

“So?”
Manisha locked eyes with him.
“Look, Mani, I’m sorry I needed to ask you to step out of the
conversation.”
“I understand. You guys don’t trust me since the business with
Johnny. I get it.”
She had a point. But he wasn’t going there. He placed a gentle
hand on her arm.
“Mani, Eyeball and I go back a long way. I knew he’d confide in me,
orders or not.”
Her hard glare softened a fraction. Curiosity, he thought.
“And?”

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He looked around the room.The embassy swept regularly for lis-
tening devices, and no doubt she had, too.

“I sent you out of the room because nothing he was saying added
up. Dr. Gupta’s safety is a top national security concern, so why leave
it to a group of four marines and a navy commander?”

She sat down on the edge of the bed.
“I can only presume there is something even bigger going on?”
He nodded.
“Big enough that they want to keep it just for the military to know.
It isn’t about you, Mani.”
She stood and paced a few steps before settling back onto the bed.
This time she leaned back on an elbow and drew her bare feet up un-
der her.
“Thanks for that. So what can you tell me, Matt?”
He sat down in the small wooden chair across from her.This would
be tricky, he thought.
“As you heard, the last update was that the plane was near Jakarta,
heading southeast.There is still full satellite,AWAC, and other tracking.
It’s hard to imagine a successful transfer at any of the known airfields,
particularly now that the Indonesian government is actively involved.”
“They could still drop him to a car on some anonymous backroad.”
“True. But getting out of the country will still be just as tough.”
She flipped her long, dark hair over her shoulders and lay back on
the bed. She contemplated the ceiling, while Jenson contemplated her.
After a moment her eyes flicked back to him.
“Do you have some other idea about it?”
“There’s the possibility of a submarine rendezvous. It’s still prob-
lematic though, because there aren’t any airfields all that close to the
water.”
“Okay, so they land him on a road somewhere, drive him to the
beach, and a raft from the sub picks him up.”
Jenson rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

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PATRICK DELANEY

“It’s simple, relatively low tech, and quick. But the sub would have
to come in pretty close,” she said.

“This sub of theirs isn’t small, but it’s quiet and nuclear.Which still
means deep water, either a natural harbor or man-made.”

“And they’d never be able to sneak in to a place like this, even
without the Indonesians being on alert. So where does that leave us?”

An excellent question.
She sat up and put her laptop on the desk. She knelt next to him as
she typed. Jenson turned his chair around to watch over her shoulder.
And to bathe in the scent of jasmine.
She pulled up the region on Google Earth.
“Look at the approaches first,” Jenson said. “Unless it was coming
across the Indian Ocean, it’ll otherwise need to pass west of Saubi
Island, and a rendezvous well south of Surabaya.”
“You’re right,” she said.
Jenson leaned forward to study the bathymetry.
“In fact, there isn’t really any feasible pickup until down around
Bali.”
He could feel the warmth of her skin where her arm pressed
against his leg.
“Well, it doesn’t look like there’s much reason to hang out here.
Perhaps we should go scout out Denpasar.We can meet up there with
Eyeball and the team.”
She didn’t answer but continued gazing into his eyes. She placed
her hand on his.
“Thank you, Matt. For trusting me.”
He leaned forward, his face inches from hers.
“Well, it is your show. I’m just along for the ride.”
She moved in closer, her arms around his waist.
“And what kind of ride would that be?” she asked.
He pulled her tightly in, their lips meeting in a firm, passionate
kiss.

S 128 S

Chapter Thirty-Six

D ense urban areas gave way to miles of green rice fields, then
lush mountain ranges and deep river valleys. Java at last surren-
dered to the tantalizing blue-green ribbon of water in the Bali Strait.
The chartered jet, courtesy of the U.S. government, saved them ten
or eleven hours of stop-and-go traffic along Jalan Pantura, the long
stretch connecting Surabaya to Denpasar in Bali.

They landed neatly on a runway jutting into the bay off Kuta, out-
side the city center of Denpasar. A car was waiting for them, with
instructions to bring them directly to the U.S. Consular Agency.They
plunged immediately into the clogged downtown streets of Denpasar.
The hours saved in their flight slowly seeped away in snarled traffic.
The drive through the city was agonizingly slow, yet a splash of shops,
colors, and aromas. Unlike the sedate but massive embassy complex in
Surabaya, the consular agency in Denpasar was set off a busy but pic-
turesque roundabout. The low whitewashed walls were topped with
fragrant shrubbery that was anything but intimidating.

“Oh my god. It looks like a children’s daycare center.”
Jenson laughed.
“I guess we’ll be sleeping on little roll-up mats tonight.”
The humor escaped their native driver. His English was good
enough, though, to let them know they would be staying at a secure

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PATRICK DELANEY

resort outside of town. Once inside the gate, the two were whisked to
a communications room in the rear of the building. A young military
attaché waved them into two chairs.

“Welcome to Bali.” He smiled, his eyes lingering on Jenson’s beau-
tiful companion. “I was instructed to immediately connect you with
Captain Lefleur.”

A moment later, the familiar bald countenance was before them
on screen. He was still airborne, and spoke loudly to compensate for
the engine noise. He looked bleary-eyed and tired.

“I see you two have made it to Denpasar.Very good.”
“What’s the news, Eyeball?”
“The picture has changed considerably in the past few hours. Have
you got a map in front of you?”
The attaché deftly unfolded a regional map on the table, and then
left them alone in the room.
“We do. Go ahead.”
“First, the Cessna still seems to be hopscotching south through
central Java. Almost like it’s buying time. It refueled this morning six-
ty kilometers southeast of Yogyakarta. We missed them by minutes,
but we can at least confirm that Dr. Gupta is aboard.”
Mani and Jenson pored over the maps before them.
“That looks like about two hundred and fifty miles from here,”
Mani calculated.
“Exactly. And if they’re meeting a sub, they’ll probably need to
come as far as Bali.”
Jenson studied the image of Eyeball on the monitor. He remem-
bered him as a young, fearless warrior. He still looked steady as a rock,
but older, and tired.
“It looks to me like the geography really tightens for that plane if
it heads any farther than Bali, too,” Jenson added.
“Agreed. Either they’re planning to meet the sub soon, or they’ll
need to travel by other means.”

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“Eyeball, do we have anything on a sub?” Mani asked.
Eyeball’s bald head nodded and a smile appeared.
“Indeed we do, madam. We have confirmed that a PLAN subma-
rine has left station in the South China Sea. Unclear where it’s head-
ed. Listening posts detected it passing into the Java Sea off Borneo at
about 0100 this morning. If it’s coming down to you, it’ll pass east of
Madura Island in the hours after midnight tonight. It’s another eight
hours or so to the Lombok Strait off Denpasar. Once it passes out into
the Indian Ocean, we won’t have any reliable means of tracking it. It’ll
be able to traverse the entire west coast of Indonesia undetected.”
He paused to let that sink in.
“I don’t suppose you two have sorted out a potential rendezvous
site for the plane, have you?”
They exchanged a glance.
“We’re working on it.”

Jenson and she left the consul quickly, the car crawling back
through town and then accelerating along the Bali Mandara toll road
onto the two-kilometer causeway that led to idyllic Benoa Harbor.
They stopped the car at a park along the edge of the bay. The warm
waters of the Indian Ocean surged against the breakwater as they
strolled. Jenson took in the vista with a glance, then turned to his
beautiful companion.

Her lovely dark eyes scanned the idyllic blue-green waters of the
long but shallow harbor that had been reclaimed from the sea. In the
distance a surfer was riding a big left in mid-harbor. Under other
circumstances, the warm breeze and salt air would have been relax-
ing.They paced further down the waterfront, gauging the geography.
Jenson’s military training had been thorough, and this just didn’t work.

“This can’t be right,” Manisha said.The smartphone confirmed her
suspicions.“Yup. It’s too shallow for cruise ships, let alone a submarine.”

“Dr. Gupta must be headed somewhere else.We’ve got to find it.”

S 131 S

PATRICK DELANEY

They sat down on a bench and lapsed into silence. A man’s life
hung in the balance.

Jenson felt strangely calm. Maybe it was fatigue, or the fresh sea
air.The sun’s glare subsided, casting them in a soft, paler illumination.
He took a deep breath and relaxed. A wheeled cart pulled up next to
them, offering fruit drinks.

“Juice Bua? Sesuatu minum?” The woman’s voice was pleasant and
strangely familiar.

He’d picked up some rupiah in Surabaya, and paid for the two
juices that were handed to them. The icy sweetness was refreshing.
The woman continued babbling to them as they sipped at the drinks.

“To really connect with the sea, you must go to the sea temple out-
side of town. Pura Tanah Lot. It sits on a rock in the ocean, with deep
caves that go out beyond the crashing waves.”

It took a moment for the words to register, and he turned toward
her. But both the cart and woman had evaporated in a sudden knot of
tourists milling behind them. He glanced back to Manisha, who was
already looking at him.

“Pura Tanah Lot?”
“Yeah.”
Her dark features softened. Neither spoke for several moments.
“They’re gonna think we’re nuts.”
Jenson nodded. He took a deep breath and tried to think logically.
“Well, that sub has to come in close enough to pick up Dr. Gupta
somewhere in this vicinity. Or a boat would need to carry him out to
it. And without being seen.”
“There’s no way that’s gonna happen in this harbor. Let’s go see
this temple of yours.”

Pura Tanah Lot perched atop the sea rocks facing the steep coastal
cliffs. At high tide, ocean waves broke around the stone base of the
temple, creating a barrier of churning, milky white water. But the tide

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was out, and a narrow path of brown beach sand stretched like a rope
between the white frothing waters that swirled below. The curious
crossed that wet sand out toward the temple, hoping to enter the dark
recesses of exposed sea caves.

Their car rolled to a stop in a manicured dirt parking lot. The me-
lodic clinking of a gamelan wafted on the breeze. They stepped onto a
well-tended lawn, sprinkled with palm trees that fluttered in the onshore
breeze. It was midafternoon, and the overhead sun had lost none of its
heat. In the distance came the deep rumble of shore break.The grass end-
ed at a bluff overlooking the frothing white water inshore and a deeper
blue beyond. On the beach below, visitors returned across a thin ribbon of
beach that led from the base of the temple. Mani glanced over at Jenson.

“This scene looks right out of the Hindu creation stories.The milk
of heaven is churned by a giant snake.The gods on one end have tug of
war with demons on the other side.”

Jenson smiled.
“Fascinating. Anyway, the tide must be turning soon, or all those
people wouldn’t be returning.”
“Yup. Let’s take advantage while we can.”
They half slid, half clambered down the steep, crumbling sand to
the beach. The sun dipped behind the temple, the lengthening shad-
ow beckoning them across the sand. The temple rose before them as
they neared. The thick wet sand sucked at their feet until they made
it to the irregular stone floor of the caves. A pathway led upward to
the temple proper, but that wasn’t their interest now. Ignoring the
warning signs, they probed downward into the caverns, smartphones
substituting for flashlights. Darkness obscured the slippery sharpness
of the passage. The rocks closed in rapidly, making the advance pre-
carious.They stopped when it became more climb than clamber. Mani
gasped suddenly. Something slithered in the darkness.The light of the
phone revealed black- and silver-banded snakes moving slowly over
the stone.The light didn’t scare them off.

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PATRICK DELANEY

“Think these caves really head out into the sea?” Mani asked.
Jenson shrugged.
“Maybe. But it’s getting awfully tight for men with guns and a hos-
tage. Or scuba gear.”
The sound of the ocean outside increased in intensity, and a slight
breeze amplified a subtle change in temperature.
“The tide’s beginning to change,” Jenson said.They turned and be-
gan to pick their way back toward the entrance.
“One thing’s for sure,” Mani said. “Unless they’ve got scuba gear,
they’re not coming through here at high tide.”
They worked their way back up to the entrance.Wave action pro-
pelled the roiling water ever further up the sand in front of them.
Jenson turned and looked back out to sea. Some scattered outcrop-
pings of rock separated the temple from the open waters beyond. He
paused, imagining the possibilities.
“No, this wouldn’t work with scuba gear and all the tidal action. It
might be possible for a small boat crew to come grab them from here.
They could enter from above at high tide and wait in the caves.And the
sub wouldn’t even have to surface if the crew is well trained.”
The surge and crash of small waves reached down to them as the
tide pressed inexorably forward.The moist air became cooler, and the
stones vibrated with a tidal threnody.They wound their way carefully
back. At the mouth of the cave, music now filtered from somewhere
above. Hollow, rhythmic percussion from hand drumming accompa-
nied the gamelan. Off to their left, a pathway smoothed by time ap-
peared before them. On impulse they headed upward into the temple.
A stone staircase led up into the open air and the flat top of the rock,
where thatched roofs nestled amongst large trees that covered the
temple area.
It took a few moments for their vision to adjust. They peered
through a wooden gate beyond which only those involved in the ritu-
als passed. The orange-red flame of the slowly setting sun provided

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backdrop as three young apsara dancers moved in slow, tantalizing
rhythm to the music. Alluring dark eyes enticed in combination with
graceful postures of the neck and arms. Flesh-colored tops were
rimmed in the same glitter of gold as ornate, towering headdresses. A
small knot of tourists crowded the narrow walkway. All around them
the sea swept the rocks, continuing to carve the exotic formations.
Mani pointed to a colorfully adorned Hindu altar to Dewa Baruna.

A small elderly man had appeared at her elbow. He was bald and
wore aT-shirt and plaid cotton pants that could pass for baggy pajamas.
His English was passable.

“The temple is dedicated for the worship of the Balinese sea gods.”
“But everything looks Hindu,” Mani said.
“You are correct.We are preparing for the Melasti ritual in a few
days. At that time, we throw off the bad things of our past, and are
cleansed by the tirta amerta.”
“The water of life?”
The monk smiled, revealing one gold crown amongst his yellow
teeth.
“Precisely.This site was selected as a temple by a sixteenth-centu-
ry Hindu monk named Nirartha. The site is propitious, as the ocean
water provides purification.”
Below them, the strand of dark sand disappeared in the darkness
and churning white froth.

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Chapter Thirty-Seven

T hey received their next update in the parking lot.The small con-
sular agency kept an encrypted radio in the trunk of the car.The
Cessna carrying Dr. Gupta had gone to ground somewhere in Java.
Eyeball Lefleur and his team were airborne and heading toward them.
Malacca Queen was still well out at sea, somewhere off Borneo.

“When do you think we’ll see some action?” Manisha asked.
Jenson’s momentary blush seemed to amuse her.
“Any sort of rendezvous with the sub would be at night, and at
high tide, too,” Jenson responded. “The sub could be here in the next
few hours, but Dr. Gupta and his escort won’t. I’d say we’re looking at
a transfer tomorrow night.”
Manisha nodded.
“So we wait?”
“So we have dinner.”
The resort was set back from a gentle bluff overlooking the sea.
The embassy had chosen it for the gated access and the distance from
the city. A fountain in the lobby bubbled beneath a statue of a dancing
apsara, the water flowing to a tranquil koi pond.
Dinner was served on their private veranda.The night air carried
a hint of bougainvillea amidst the scent of salt and sand. The open
flame of torches whipped in the warm sea breeze. The plates of ikan

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ENTANGLED JASMINE

bakar were sizzling. Freshly seared fish caught right off the resort and
garnished in local spices.

“So who wins the tug of war?”
She looked up uncertainly. He swirled his wine gently.
“The contest between the gods and demons. Over the milk of life?”
She sipped her wine.The white linen table cloth fluttered lightly in
the sea breeze, but quieted as she set down her glass.
“Ah, that tug of war.You see, the demons succeeded in recovering
the elixir of immortality first.”
“Really? That’s terrible.”
Flickering light sparkled mischievously in her dark eyes. She was
wearing a loose sundress, the shadows gently caressing her bare skin.
“Well, that’s not quite the end of the story.The apsara appear be-
fore the demons, dancing erotically and mingling with them.The gods
steal the elixir and drink it, denying the demons immortality.”
It was Jenson’s turn to smile.
“Another win for the gods, albeit by trickery.”
Wordlessly, without pretense, their eyes lingered on the other.
When she spoke, her voice was soft and direct.
“Do you have someone back home waiting for you?”
Her question hung in the air. He sipped his wine leisurely.
“No. I’ve pretty much lived in the hospital since I finished my last
tour.You?”
She smiled and reached for her glass. It was nearly empty. Jenson
topped it off. She swirled it lightly and then took a swallow.
“A couple of close calls, but no. I’m on the move too much. I like
it that way.”
“Why is that?”
She shrugged and set her glass down.Then she laughed.
“I don’t know. Guess I’ve always been a tomboy. And I feel a bond
with this part of the world. My father was in naval intelligence. He
always had such stories and seemed so brave.”

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Her eyes misted up.
“I really looked up to him. He lost his life on a mission out here.”
Jenson allowed a silence to dignify the words.
“I’m sorry. I’d like to have met him,” he said. “It must’ve taken
quite a man to raise a beautiful yet determined daughter like yourself.
I’m sure he’d be proud.”
She dabbed at a tear and smiled. She reached across the table and
touched his hand.
“Thanks for that.”
“Care to take a walk along the water? I don’t see a single pebble.”
Bamboo steps led directly down to the white sand. A spectacular
sunset was for their eyes alone, as the resort was unseasonably empty.
They carried their wineglasses down onto the warm sand as darkness
fell. The beach was deserted in either direction, and the salt air off
the shimmering sea was invigorating. A warm, gentle breeze envel-
oped them, and the pure white sands and star-filled night beckoned
for a swim in the moonlight. He followed her out toward the rhythmic
surge of phosphorescent waters. Even in the low light, the cut of her
French beach dress revealed the tantalizing curves in her toned fig-
ure.The water was calm as they waded in and immersed themselves.
She submerged and swam closer, playfully tugging at him. He joined
her underwater, for a moment their bodies coming fully together.
The warmth of her closeness aroused him. Their play took them in
closer to shore. He watched as she emerged from waist-deep water.
Glimmering rivulets exposed in the moonlight flowed from her fig-
ure. He took her hands and gently pulled her closer. She brought his
hands to her full breasts and responded to his gentle caresses. Their
lips met in a passionate kiss that held nothing back.The darkness was
a release that was urgent and sensitive.

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Chapter Thirty-Eight

“W hat are you so damn happy about?”
Despite his tone, Eyeball’s mustachioed face looked a bit
brighter, too. He and his men were wheels down and had finally gotten
some rest. Matt Jenson took the question calmly.

“Eyeball, we have a hunch about the rendezvous with the sub.”
The eyebrows raised expectantly.
“And?”
Jenson took a deep breath.
“Well, as you know, the bay here outside Denpasar isn’t deep
enough to support a submarine operation.”
“Yup.”
“But a couple miles up the coast are some sea rocks that extend
out into deep water.”
He could see Eyeball leaning over a chart.
“Which rocks are we talking about?”
“Pura Tanah Lot. It’s a sea temple.”
Eyeball remained motionless over the chart for several moments.
Then his stern countenance snapped back to the screen, fiery eyes
fastening on Jenson.
“Turtle, are you kidding me? Do you seriously think they’re going
to offload the scientist through a major tourist site?”

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Another deep breath.
“Yeah.Yes, I do. There’s good road access, and the crowds can be
used for concealment.The scientist can be walked out to the rocks at
low tide or rafted out at high tide.There are subterranean caverns in
the rocks, where they can hide the scientist. A sub can approach fairly
closely, with recovery by rubber boat under cover of darkness.”
He stopped there. Eyeball’s hand passed slowly over the light
growth of hair on his otherwise bald scalp.
“Oh Christ. I will never hear the end of this. I can even see the
headlines. ‘U.S. Marines shoot up ancient religious site.’ Thorn is gonna go
ape shit.”
He had a point. But Jenson persisted.
“From an operational standpoint, there isn’t another feasible site
for the transfer, Eyeball. And if it’s going to happen, it’ll be tonight.”
The bald visage stared back wordlessly from the monitor.Thinking.

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Chapter Thirty-Nine

T he PLANS GreatWall 12 was running deep and silent. Captain Zhao
maintained her below ten knots, optimizing the ultra-silent acous-
tics augmented by her AIP system.The air-independent propulsion sys-
tem was revolutionary, making them nearly undetectable. On this route
he knew they would eventually be spotted by someone, most likely the
Americans. But the track was unconventional, and they could only guess
at his intentions.Aboard the submarine, only he and CommanderWong
knew the full stakes.Access to the American command and control sys-
tem, Virtual Certainty. He looked again at the communication he had
just received.

He stepped silently to the navigation table as the position was
updated. In a glance he took in the situation. Then he turned to the
helmsman and barked out a new command.

“Come right thirty degrees. Decrease speed to six knots. Make
your depth thirty meters.”

The submarine angled smoothly to the new bearing and depth.
The rail-thin Captain Zhao motioned for his stocky first officer to
approach.

“Inform Commander Wong that we will be on station in just over
three hours. His team should be ready to deploy at 0100 hours.”

The presence of the Sea Dragons aboard was known only to his

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PATRICK DELANEY

crew. The elite navy commandos were thought to be deployed at
Western Reef. He had supreme confidence in their ability to complete
the next phase of the mission.Take physical custody of both the system
and its creator, and leave no trace of their involvement.

His first officer acknowledged his order and then hesitated.
“Was there something else, Mr. Chang?” Captain Zhao asked.
The young officer’s whispered question was for the captain alone.
“Sir, forgive me, but the new heading takes us away from the inter-
cept with the Malacca Queen.What shall I relay to Commander Wong
and his team?”
The captain pondered the question silently before answering.
Taking the scientist at sea would have given them complete deniability,
and allowed his country to avoid payment. Now they would instead
proceed as agreed.
“Inform the Sea Dragons that our package is no longer aboard the
Malacca Queen, but is to be delivered by land, as originally planned.”
“Yes, sir.”

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Chapter Forty

C aptain Lefleur studied the live feed as the situation was updat-
ed. His eyes were sore and he longed for the sleep that he had
missed over the last forty-eight hours. But satellites had picked up the
Cessna again, moving south and east toward Denpasar.The rest of his
team quietly circled the communications equipment in the otherwise
empty hangar.

“And what about that sub contact?” he asked.
There was a pause while information was relayed from the
Minnesota to Tripoli.
“The sonar contact has cleared the Lombok Strait and is off the
west coast of Java.The Indonesian navy has been warned off.”
Damn, Eyeball thought. Maybe they were right.
Admiral Thorn’s voice broke his reverie.
“Captain? Can your team deal with this intercept? Fishhook will
play out over a few hours yet, and we don’t have assets to spare.”
He looked up at the screen and nodded.
“That’s affirmative, sir.We believe we know the site for the hand-
off to the sub.We have spotters on site, and my team will be airborne
ASAP.”
The admiral leaned in, his square-jawed face filling the screen.
“Eyeball, listen closely. Our SEALS are just beginning to arrive

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PATRICK DELANEY

back at the exfil.The early intel from Fishhook suggests that Western
Reef is some sort of supercomputer facility.The imminent arrival of a
scientist and some sort of control feature is expected. Get the scientist
back, Captain.Thorn out.”

S 144 S

Chapter Forty-One

T he darkness and the sea breeze that accompanied the inrushing
tide brought a refreshing coolness. The red-orange sunset over
the sea had been majestic. Now a moonless sky greeted the gathering
stars. Manisha and Jenson snuggled comfortably with the seats reclined
in the blackness. She rested her head on his chest. She felt secure in a
way that she hadn’t before.They didn’t speak, keeping close watch on
both the road and the flowing waters that raced to cover the beach.
Neither of them could hear the approach at altitude by the C-130, and
nothing hinted at the clandestine arrival of Eyeball’s team. Only the
hypnotic sound of waves gently surging onto the sand and rocks below.

At regular intervals one of the two would lift the night vision for a
closer look, positioning carefully to avoid any silhouette. Just an emp-
ty car from a distance, or two lovers to anyone who managed to get in
close. Inspection of the temple revealed nothing against the backdrop
of starlight and phosphorescent seas. Jenson scoured the smaller, low-
er rock clusters that barely broke the surface well beyond the temple.
He didn’t expect a periscope.The submarine would need to stay well
offshore for adequate depth. But neither was there any sign of Eyeball
or anyone else.

Just after midnight a brief glare of headlights lit up the road. The
van was blacked out by the time it crept quietly past the discreetly

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