"Vessel on my port bow, this is Australian warship Hammersley, stop, or heave to, I intend to board you," Charge called out over the loud hailer as they steamed up behind the Fukiyama.
"Vessel on my…" Charge began to hail again, when the Fukiyama clearly began to slow down, coming to a complete halt in a matter of minutes. A look of surprise crossed the Chief Engineers face, "Well, that was easy boss."
Doubt suddenly sprang into Mike's head, maybe Cruise hadn't reached her yet but he thought too, that it was a strange coincidence that they had had no response on the radio. Within five minutes a contingent of Hammersley crew were climbing on board, and made their way quickly to the wheelhouse, which was elevated off the main deck allowing the Captain to have an unrestricted 360 view of the ocean. He couldn't afford to go a-ground with the type of cargo that he carried. Within seconds, a tiny Japanese man started making his way down the bridge ladder to meet Mike Flynn and Dutchy anxiously waiting below.
The little man bowed, he was dressed in the crisp white uniform of the British-owned Pacific Nuclear Transport Company that own and operate several such ships, and introduced himself as the Master of the vessel. His English was surprisingly good, if not heavy with accent, and he seemed experienced and serious, as one should be when transporting dangerous cargo.
Mike didn't waste a moment. "Captain, I am Commander Mike Flynn of HMAS Hammersely, sir we have been trying to hail you over the radio for the last two hours…"
The Japanese Captain seemed to sigh and nod his head, "Hai, we have had problem with our radio, but my technician he think he can fix soon."
Mike held up a picture of Madeline Cruise, "Sir, we believe this woman is a significant threat to you and your crew and may be attempting to come aboard to access the enriched uranium carried on this ship. Have you been approached by any boats, or noticed anything unusual?"
"No….no," the little man shook his head, "we no see anyone, no problem here."
"Well, I'd like your permission to search the ship sir, specifically the fuel flasks secured in the hold."
The little man nodded his head, and gestured with his hand that the ship was Mikes. He called over to another man, this one dressed in orange overalls, a nuclear symbol clearly marked on his back that made Charge take a few steps backwards and the CO gave him a funny look. Charge just shrugged, he had always been suspicous.
"This man he our nuclear speciarest. He take you." And with another bow, the Captain started to climb his way back up to the bridge.
…
The orange overalled man led Mike, Dutchy and Charge down through a hatch positioned almost in the middle of the ship, where large sweeping steps marched down deck upon steel deck right to the bottom of the hold. He stopped on the first deck and pointed to the first row of huge metal transport flasks that contained the nuclear waste, five in total stretching across the hold, and moving to the next deck down, another five stretched out underneath and so on, for another two decks.
"Is this safe?" Charge raised his eyebrows, when he saw each flask had again, the nuclear warning sign emblazoned on it.
"Oh it perfectly safe," the nuclear specialist gave Charge a wide grin. "Each flask contain several shell, with gamma and neutron shielding, as well as an outer shell. And within all those, the glass canister that contain the actual uranium are perfectly safe too provide they remain unbroken. All these transport flasks are designed to do is ensure those glass canister are protected from breaking."
"What happens if they break?" Charge shakily asked, a look of fear crossing his solid features.
"Oh, you pretty much say bye bye." The Japanese man let out a roar of laughter and beckoned them again to follow, as he swept down the second row of flasks.
"How would someone go about getting to these glass canisters? "Mike asked.
"It not hard, but you need muscle. Each flask has a shock absorber cap see here," as he pointed to a two metre wide orange end-cap covering one of the metal flasks. "It removable," he proudly proclaimed.
"Well!" Charge exclaimed, "Why don't we just make it easy for them!"
The Japanese man shrugged, "It designed for safety only, not for thief. That what you here for eh?" and he roared with laughter again that Charge gave Dutchy a I don't think this guy gets out much look.
"So what?" Charge proclaimed, "We have to open every single one?"
"No, no no, see here," the nuclear specialist pointed to a seal covering the orange end-cap, "This here is a safety seal. Safety seal broken, means transport flask has moved in transit. Means when it get unloaded, men take better precaution. Also mean, cap been opened."
"Right, everyone take a deck each, I'll take D Deck, Dutchy you take C Deck, Charge you take this Deck, RO, Top Deck, I want each of you to check and double-check every seal. No mistakes." And with that they disappeared through the metal hold, their torches probing, hoping like hell to see every seal intact.
It only took a minute or two before Dutchy called out through the radio; "Boss, I got a broken seal here," and within seconds Mike had pounded his way back up to C Deck, calling out to the nuclear specialist to follow, who arrived at the flask very ashen-faced, a look very far from laughter.
"What now? How do we check the contents?" Mike asked the Specialist and when he got no response, he grabbed him by the collar and pushed his body towards the orange end-cap, asking him again, but he was in shock and muttering incoherently in Japanese.
"Are you sure that's a good idea boss?" Dutchy asked, looking unsure at the seal. "It could be boobie-trapped?"
Mike let go of the nuclear specialist, who was by that point, practically blubbing, fearing that it would cost him his job. The CO ignored him completely, and turned back to his team.
"Ok, let's assume Cruise has been here. She certainly didn't move that cap on her own, so she must have inside help, stay sharp. Search the ship." He barked out the orders over the radio and they started to make their way through the ship. Probing and searching and hoping she was still on board.