“Yes, sir, coming to one one zero. Switching to dual-frequency mode.”
The moment the sonar mode changed, the line transformed into an obvious cable. To the west, Jerry saw that it kept on going… beyond the imaging sonar’s range. After watching for a few seconds, he made out what looked like bumps on the cable. There appeared to be four of them, evenly spaced. Then he saw the cable connect with a long cylindrical object. Immediately, Jerry froze with recognition. He knew exactly what he was looking at. Slowly shaking his head, he growled, “Oh shit!”
The petty officer adjusted the portable heater and then cradled his cup of hot tea. After taking a couple sips of the steaming liquid he glanced at his watch; it would still be another hour and fifteen minutes before he would be relieved. Sighing, he started running through the Sever modules monitoring the defensive perimeter. Even though the system had an automatic detection function, the base commander had instructed the operators to look at the outputs of each module as well. It was dull and boring work, as they hadn’t heard anything but ice noise and the loud banging from the construction site for several weeks. The first three modules were clear, but the fourth showed something odd. There was an unusual signal on the audio channel, but it didn’t sound like anything he’d ever heard before. The narrowband display had strange diffuse bands of acoustic energy and the bearing to the “contact” was vacillating wildly. He then noticed that the auto-detect feature would momentarily blink and then reset.
Thinking that the module had a malfunction, the operator ran the diagnostic program. When it reported all subcomponents were functioning normally, he ran it again with the same results. Confused, the petty officer flagged the watch center supervisor. “Lieutenant, I have a very weird situation with Sever module four.”
“And what would that be, Petty Officer Yolkov?” yawned the officer as he got up from his chair and stretched. It had been a long and uneventful morning and all he wanted right now was a hot meal, then his rack.
“I have a signal on module four, but it looks like nothing I’ve ever seen. The narrowband display is very fuzzy and the contact’s bearing is all over the place.” The lieutenant walked up behind the operator and looked at the display. After studying the screen for a moment, he frowned and muttered. He too was puzzled.
“That looks very strange, how long has the module registered this signal?”
“About six minutes, sir.”
“And there was nothing before then?”
“No, sir. There was nothing.”
“Have you run a diagnostic test on the equipment?”
“Yes, Lieutenant, twice. The module passed both times.”
An annoyed grumble escaped his lips as the lieutenant went over to the surface search radar and checked the display. There were no contacts on the scope except the icebreaker and the barge — and they hadn’t moved in days. There was absolutely nothing along the bearing to the alerting Sever module. Baffled, the young officer weighed reporting such a bizarre contact. But it was Captain Kalinin’s stern warning that anything unusual was to be reported that finally convinced him to pick up the secure phone.
The phone rang only twice. “Captain Kalinin, Lieutenant Zhabin, we have an anomalous acoustic contact on Sever module four.”
“Define ‘anomalous,’ Lieutenant,” snapped the chief of staff.
“There is a signal being received by the module, but the frequency and bearing data is unlike anything we’ve ever seen. There is also no corresponding contact on the radar.”
“Is the module malfunctioning?”
“The operator has run the diagnostics program twice and the module passed both times, sir.”
“Very well, Lieutenant. Begin recording the signal if you haven’t already done so, and pass what data you have to the helicopter operations detachment. I’ll order them to go out and investigate.”
Lavrov tapped his fingers impatiently on his desk as he waited for the next satellite imagery pass of Groton to be processed. He was old enough to remember when it took nearly a day to get the latest images. Now the raw digital photos were usually available within a few hours. And yet, today that seemed like an eon. The latest report from the embassy stated the situation remained unchanged at the Electric Boat Shipyard. The graving dock was still covered, and the operative reported the bars hummed with rumors of significant engineering problems on the Jimmy Carter. The embassy also asked that the “unproductive” and “expensive” collection operation be terminated. It had been two weeks since the American spy submarine went into the graving dock, and there was little point in maintaining the surveillance when all the data said she wasn’t going anywhere, anytime soon.
The “ding” from his computer terminal caused his head to snap. He opened the long awaited e-mail and then held his breath as the image was downloaded. As soon as the file opened up he moved the cursor over the Electric Boat shipyard and zoomed in. A quick study of the infrared photo confirmed that nothing had changed since yesterday afternoon’s image. Frustrated, Lavrov scrolled over to the New London submarine base just to take a look. Nothing readily appeared out of the ordinary, except that the base seemed to have fewer boats in port than what he thought was normal.
Pulling up yesterday afternoon’s naval intelligence summary, he paged through until he reached the deployed U.S. forces section, and that’s when it struck him. The number of attack submarines at Groton in the newest imagery was three fewer than the latest intelligence report. Curious, he ran down the list of Atlantic and Pacific submarine bases to see if they showed a similar trend — what he saw sent chills down his spine. He grabbed the encrypted phone and called Drugov.
“Pavel, Vasiliy, I think we have a problem. It looks like the Americans may be on to our plans.”
An exacerbated sigh was the first response Lavrov heard. “Vasiliy, we’ve been over this many times in the last two weeks. The Jimmy Carter, by all indications, hasn’t left the shipyard and we don’t need to waste—”
“Pavel, I’m not talking about the Carter!” growled the intelligence officer. “The Americans have put five attack submarines, one cruise missile submarine, and two ballistic submarines to sea in the last twelve hours. Now, unless you know of a nationwide exercise that I’m not aware of, this sudden surge brings their deployed assets to over fifty percent of their strength — and that is on both the Atlantic and Pacific coasts!”
“Are you sure of this, Vasiliy?” asked Drugov hesitantly.
“I just looked at the recent imagery for both the east and west coast bases and compared them with the latest summary report, Pavel, I do know how to count!” Lavrov insisted firmly.
“All right. Bring the imagery and your notes up immediately. I’ll fit you into Admiral Komeyev’s schedule somehow before he leaves for Moscow.” The click on the receiver told Lavrov that Drugov hadn’t even waited for his acknowledgement.
Lavrov started printing out the latest imagery, then grabbed the intelligence summary and his notes. If he was correct, and the Americans were sortieing their submarine forces, then they had to have a very good reason for doing so. He feared he knew exactly what that reason was.
15
ROUGH NEIGHBORHOOD