Warshot (The Hunter Killer Series Book 6) by Don Keith (dark books to read TXT) 📕

But to the east and south, the newly claimed boundary stretched far out across the open waters, encompassing all of the seas over the Tongan Trench.

Joe Glass snorted and shook his head. Of course it did. The new line of claimed territory included the spot where that huge mound of gold had been located by the research ship.

“These are our historic waters,” Tofuwanga continued, dropping the tone of his voice to a new level of authority. “To these we once again emphasize our long-held and historic claim even as we see more threats and intrusion by European and North American powers—as well as nations in our own region—for their own strategic and invalid purposes. Today, we call upon all the world to recognize the ancient rights of our poor and weak nation. We urge the world to honor our sovereignty and territorial integrity. Henceforth, no ship—and particularly no warship—may enter our sovereign waters without our prior permission. And we call upon the United Nations to defend our rights against any who would challenge them.”

Tofuwanga paused, allowing his words to echo throughout the chamber and to be translated for those on the Council and in attendance in the galleries. Then he turned toward the Chinese ambassador, who was still smiling, still nodding.

“Our dear and long-time friends, the People’s Republic of China, have become the first of the world’s peace-loving nations to formally renew their recognition of and respect for our rights,” the Tongan monarch continued. “By promise and treaty, they have pledged to come to our aid to assist us in defending those rights as well as the seas on which our very existence so totally depends. Any threat against or incursion into the territories of the people of Tonga will be considered a threat against the People’s Republic of China.”

The monarch smiled broadly, again looking toward the Chinese ambassador, who merely continued to smile and bob his head. The room was silent for a few seconds as the Council, as well as the media, took in the astounding news.

A mouse had just roared like a lion!

Then, as a gavel pounded and media members shouted questions, those sitting on the Council clamored for attention, for the right to question such a blatant power grab. Not to mention such an unabashed annexation of what by all rights were international waters.

Glass clicked off the screen. Jon Ward had been correct. This political fiasco, although revealed on the other side of the world, was indeed going to likely play out in Glass’s backyard. After all, the Tongan Islands were only two hundred miles across the deep blue waters from where he now sat, in American Samoa.

He and some other folks would have to quickly decide what to do about it. Tonga certainly had some very powerful and dangerous friends. And exactly what part would the deep-sea treasure play in this thing. Power or wealth. Either one often caused men to do bad things. With both at stake, who knew to what lengths these people would go?

Glass pushed back from his desk. Ever since his days as Jon Ward’s XO, he found it helped him to think if he could just get up and walk around. That was sometimes difficult to do on a submarine, but it always got the blood flowing, and that allowed him to better consider his options. He walked out of his cabin on the big tender and slid down a couple of ladders, to where he could step out onto the Chesty Puller’s enormous main deck.

It was a beautiful, peaceful day. The brilliant Polynesian sunshine left the sky a bright, cloudless blue. A warm breeze wafted across the harbor, carrying sweet scents from the surrounding jungle out over the broad harbor and serene azure waters.

Then he noticed a large, white vessel motoring across the harbor, making for the Port of Pago Pago main dock. Glass watched as the big, beamy ship passed nearby. Hard to tell from her lines what the ship was designed for, but she clearly was not a cargo vessel or one of those deep-water tuna factories that called the StarKist cannery home. He had been so deep in his thoughts about the Tongan mess that he had neglected to grab his binoculars when he left his office. He typically did, just in case there was something interesting to see from the tender’s high deck. Some of the sailors claimed a clear day offered views of sunbathers around the outdoor pools at the beach resorts but Glass had not yet had time to confirm it.

But then, as the white ship steamed past, Glass could make out the letters painted across her stern. Deep Ocean Explorer. So, this was the very ship that originated all the fuss when she located that golden hoard on the bottom of the Tongan Trench. He made a mental note to go over and meet with the ship’s master. And maybe determine if he had any idea the storm he and his vessel had caused.

But then Joe Glass’s attention was torn away from the Deep Ocean Explorer as he sighted another vessel rounding Tafagamanu Point at the mouth to Pago Pago Harbor. Glass did not need his binoculars to see what this ship was. The tall, gray, composite masts towering above the rocky outcropping were the first indications that this was a very large ship entering the harbor. And the gray color was a telltale sign that it was a Navy vessel.

Slowly and majestically, the ship rounded the point and steamed directly toward the inner harbor and to where Glass stood on the Chesty Puller. He could just make out the hull number—27—painted on her bow. It was the USS Portland (LPD-27), a San Antonio-class amphibious transport dock. And she was showing up at the dance just in time. Glass knew that the ship had over seven hundred Marines aboard. That might be useful in light of the video he had just watched. But, more importantly, in Portland’s well deck were the two