The Mice That Roared

In the vein of "The Russians Are Coming," but with the pluck of "The Mouse That Roared," the SSBN Vengeance, one of four nuclear missile submarines in the British Trident fleet, surfaces unexpectedly off the south coast of England. Up go the pennants, including a large peace flag, and some thirty sailors start line-dancing on deck (in their briefs), attracting much attention. Small boats flock around. BBC-TV reporter Leslie Prim, on the Brighton waterfront, receives a cell phone call from the sub's skipper. Their hastily recorded interview will soon be headline news. Cmdr. Duff McGinty explains that he and his crew, defying orders to return to base, have "taken this sub and her nuclear missiles off-line, out of commission, for the good of humanity." They urge the UK to opt for unilateral nuclear disarmament. Prim asks if she could come aboard. McGinty says "Sure, but hurry... we're attracting escorts from the Royal Navy!" She races out and gets aboard just as the sub dives. Over the next few days a cat-and-mouse pursuit takes place off the coasts of England, Ireland, and France. Ominous headlines like ROGUE BRITISH NUCLEAR MISSILE SUB ON THE LOOSE soon give way to outpourings of popular support. Renaming the sub the "Domino," the crew, in candid interviews smuggled ashore, turn out to be the good guys-genuine Robin Hood figures. Pro-Domino demonstrations and vigils are organized worldwide. The sub's appearance in France, where the crew welds half her missile hatches shut, draws cheers from the surrounding small-craft flotilla. The new British Prime Minister, a remarkably astute woman, consults with her cabinet: How to manage the escalating Domino affair?