‘Another turn of slack there, Will,’ he said into the mike. ‘Getting tugged around a bit. That swell picking up out there?’
‘More slack coming. Will keep an eye on it,’ came Forrester’s reply.
The most exposed part of the fifth cable was between the fin of the submarine and the array, but the gap was too small for Scorpio to reach it properly. Nuttall was trying to approach at a skewed angle to get in tighter, but it was difficult piloting. Gold was still against the wall, his left arm held out in front of him gripping the manipulator master arm. He was intently focused on the screen over Nuttall’s shoulder, face screwed up with the strain and his arm hunching and lunging as he tried to grab at the line in the water. Holding it in such an awkward position was making his muscles burn. He could feel beads of sweat starting to trickle down his spine.
At last he snapped the claws shut. An agonising fraction of a second later he saw the jaws respond, the rope caught in their grip. Slowly he fed it across into the newly replaced guide. Nuttall reached across and flicked the switch for the cutter, jabbing it forward to engage it before snapping it back. Nothing seemed to move until a few strands sprang back from the cut. But the main body of the rope remained taut. The line was still intact. It hadn’t been deep enough into the cutter’s mouth to be fully severed.
Gold tried jiggling the arm to push the cable in deeper.
‘Try that,’ he said.
Nuttall flicked the switch once more, but still the blade couldn’t reach the meat of the rope. Something was preventing him for getting any closer.
‘I can’t get in there. I think the skids are getting in the way,’ said Nuttall.
‘Try changing the angle a little? If we can just get around a little…’ said Gold.
But nothing was working. Gold’s frustration was mounting as he adjusted the position of his arm to try to get the cable into the cutter, but the space was just too tight.
Eventually, at about 15.30, they gave up. They had to try something else. With Scorpio retreated from the close quarters at which she’d been for the last 20 minutes or more, they could see AS-28 was swaying in the current. She had to be loose, they told each other. It seemed obvious.
‘She’s got to blow her tanks,’ said Gold. ‘It’s the only way.’
By releasing high pressure air into her ballast tanks from her air reserves the submersible would become positively buoyant. The motion should pull her free from the few remaining bonds, as long as they weren’t substantial enough to keep her there. They had to risk it. The downside was that they knew she had already blown her tanks at least once to no avail. This blow would probably be her final chance of reaching the surface.
Podkapayev would have none of it when Riches explained their thoughts. He was shaking his head violently before the translator was even halfway through explaining. He demanded that Scorpio be driven underneath AS-28 and up her starboard side as far as it could go to make sure the submersible was entirely clear.
‘I can’t do that,’ said Gold. ‘Taking a look underneath that submersible means our umbilical will be looped right round her. If anything happens and we get stuck, then those guys are trapped down there much more securely than they were by those nets.’
Riches agreed. But Podkapayev was looking very uncomfortable. Was there something he wasn’t telling them? As far as the UK team knew the ballast air was separate from the main supply, but their knowledge of the detailed workings of the Russian submersible was limited. It was perfectly possible that the ballast air also supplied the main crew chambers. In that case, blowing the tanks would substantially reduce the life expectancy of those on board.
‘We can’t do it Dmitriy,’ Riches said. ‘It’s too dangerous to go underneath. We know how quickly things can go wrong, and if they do then we’re suddenly back to square one, but this time without any time to solve it.’
‘We cannot blow the tanks. You must cut all lines,’ came the stubborn reply.
‘She’s loose. You can see it,’ urged Gold.
‘If she is not free when she blows she can lose her balance and go on her side. We cannot,’ said Dmitriy. Depending on where on the AS-28 the cable was still attached, it could tip the craft at a dangerous angle. Such a sudden change could easily cause something unexpected.
‘That’s a risk we’re going to have to take,’ said Gold. ‘We’ve run out of time, and out of options.’
Eventually, Podkapayev left the cabin to discuss the situation with his commanders on the Alagez over the radio. Agonising minutes passed before he returned, declaring that the Russians wanted an alternative plan. Gold and Riches had already discussed the possibility of using one of the lifting eyes they’d seen on AS-28’s hull. On training operations Scorpio was often sent to retrieve dummy mines for the Navy by dropping lines on to them so they could be hauled up on deck. There was plenty of steel cable available on the ship; AS-28 could be pulled free using one or two of the small tugs. If AS-28’s ballast tanks were full of air, her positive buoyancy would cause her rise to the surface. If not, the cable could be reeled in to bring her up. It wasn’t ideal because the craft might come up at an awkward angle, with all the problems that entailed, but at least it would get them to the surface.
With any luck this backup plan would not be needed. If AS-28 could get enough positive buoyancy, she should have a good chance of breaking free and coming straight up.
For 40 minutes the arguments had gone back and forth between the UK team and Podkapayev, and between him and the command ship. All that while, AS-28 hung in the monitor of the control cab in front of the team. Her silent bulk was swaying slightly in the current while a gentle snow of sediment drifted downwards around her. She looked like a tomb.
At last word came that the backup plan had been accepted. The order to blow the tanks would be given, and if AS-28 failed to rise on her own, then Scorpio would come back for a towline. Until then they needed to monitor what happened. After a few minutes of discussion with Gold and Nuttall, they decided to pull Scorpio back around the end of the array, just within visual range of AS-28’s striped hull, but not close enough to get tangled in any lines should she move. A minute later Scorpio was in position, the umbilical out of the way, with Nuttall holding her in mid-water.
Gold nodded to Riches.
‘OK, we’re in position. Tell them to blow the ballast,’ Riches said to the interpreter.
Podkapayev knew what was coming and already had the radio up by his mouth. As he relayed the order to the command ship, his eyes were glued to the screen. If the bathyscaphe didn’t move now it was a very bad sign. The seconds ticked by. Nothing happened. Word came over the radio that the command had been delivered, but that no response had been received. Up until now, all orders and requests had been answered. Now there was silence. AS-28 just hung there. There was no other movement, just a funereal silence. As the seconds passed with no sign of life from the submersible, their hearts began to sink. They were too late.
Sunday, 7 August
SS + 71 h 45 mins
Captain Lepetyukha was up off the floor, propped against the wall of the aft compartment. All of them were breathing heavily, lungs trying to fill with oxygen and flush carbon dioxide but only managing to flood their senses with the rancid mix of vomit, urine and excrement. Gennady Bolonin relayed to him the order given by the surface commander that they should blow their ballast tanks and surface, and saw the Captain stir. Bolonin urged caution. He knew exactly how unstable the submersible he’d helped design was. They didn’t know for sure that all lines had been cut. If one remained snagged on their hull, hidden from the British ROV by the bulk of the array’s floatation tank, it could easily tip them off balance with disastrous results.