Chapter 38 - Intercept in the Fog
"Surface contact bearing zero-eight-two, range fourteen miles!" Lieutenant Davis shouted from the radar console in the *Farragut’s* CIC. "Profile matches the *Vanguard Star*! She’s moving at maximum speed, heading directly for the boundary of international waters!"
"How long until she clears the legal interception envelope?" I asked, stepping up behind the tactical coordinator.
"Twenty-two minutes, Captain! If she makes the boundary, her escort will claim neutral sovereignty under a Panamanian registry."
"Not on my watch," I replied firmly. "Chief Sullivan, sound General Quarters. Martinez, engage our gas turbines to flank speed. Intercept course, bring us directly across her bow."
The ship roared with the shrill, rhythmic pulse of the battle alarm: *DONG-DONG-DONG. General Quarters, General Quarters, all hands man your battle stations.*
Through the pelorus on the bridge, the dense ocean fog suddenly parted to reveal the massive, hulking shape of the *Vanguard Star*. She was a mid-sized commercial freighter, running without identification lights, leaving a heavy wake of foamy black water behind her.
"Establish bridge-to-bridge communications," I commanded.
"Channel open, Captain."
I picked up the handset, my voice carrying the weight of 9,000 tons of guided-missile steel. "Unidentified vessel, this is the United States Ship *Farragut*. You are ordered to cut your engines and heave-to immediately. Prepare to be boarded under authority of the United States Navy."
A moment of dead silence hung over the frequency, followed by the cold, arrogant voice of Vice Admiral Sterling.
"Commander Whitaker," Sterling chuckled, though the tremor of desperation in his voice was unmistakable. "You are acting completely outside your chain of command. You are a renegade officer driving a stolen warship. Turn back now, or I will order the Atlantic Fleet to blast you out of the water."
"You don't have a chain of command anymore, Sterling," I answered, watching the distance close rapidly. "Your offshore accounts in Zurich have been frozen. Admiral Vance is alive. And I have every blueprint my brother manufactured sitting in my tactical data bank."
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The radio erupted with furious static. "You stubborn little bitch! You think you can destroy everything I built?! You're just a girl from Ohio whose own parents didn't even want her!"
I didn't blink. "Helmsman, five degrees right rudder. Martinez, fire a warning shot from the five-inch deck gun across their bow. Let them see what this girl from Ohio can do."
