Weiss allowed himself a deep sigh of relief once he heard the explosion. He didn’t need a report from sonar; everyone heard the blast through the hull. There were no cheers in the control room this time, just silence as the adrenaline high started to wear off. Even Jerry felt a little ragged, but he’d been there before, and recovered more quickly. “Nice shot, XO,” he said quietly.
“Thank you, sir. Can we go home now?” Segerson’s little quip got a chuckle out of everyone in control.
Laughing, Jerry replied, “Don’t look at me. I don’t have the conn.”
Weiss looked down at his XO’s earnest expression and shook his head in amusement. “Oh, very well. Helm, left standard rudder. Steady on course zero two zero.”
The captain then hit the intercom switch. “Sonar, Conn, stay alert and keep your ears sharp to the west. There’s an Akula out there and I really don’t want to have to do this a second time.”
Ten minutes later, Carter passed under the ice pack and over the drop-off into the Nansen Basin. Weiss took his boat deep and slowed down. Jimmy Carter maintained her northerly course until both Jerry and Weiss were confident that they had given Vepr the slip. Only then did the boat turn for home.
Vice Admiral Gorokhov had bolted from the command center as soon as the Sever monitoring detachment had reported incoming torpedoes. He ran as fast as he could to the cliff’s edge and looked out into the mouth of the Shokal’skogo Strait with his binoculars. With the exception of a slightly darker hue of brown in the water around the mooring buoy, everything looked as before. And yet, he feared that the scene would be drastically different one hundred and eighty meters below the surface.
“Admiral! Admiral!” yelled Kalinin as he approached his senior officer. “Sir, one of the Ka-27M helicopters reports that it has successfully engaged an enemy submarine. That makes two confirmed kills!”
Gorokhov spun about seething, “I don’t give a damn about how many American boats we’ve destroyed, Captain! I want divers down on the launcher complex immediately! I need a full and complete damage report, and I need it NOW!”
“Yes… yes, Comrade Admiral. At once,” stammered Kalinin as he turned and ran back to the hut.
EPILOGUE
Afterward, President Hardy would confess that he could not remember who he was meeting with, or why. His visitors were quickly ushered out after Joanna appeared at the Oval Office door, beaming. Without speaking, she handed her husband a single sheet of paper. Hardy read:
FLASH
050200Z AUG 21
FROM: USS JIMMY CARTER (SSN 23)
TO: CNO WASHINGTON DC
INFO: COMSUBFOR, SUBRON TWELVE
TOP SECRET//SCI
SUBJ: MISSION QUICKLOOK REPORT
1) OVERCHARGE EXECUTED. FOUR TORPEDOES FIRED, FOUR EXPLOSIONS HEARD CONSISTENT WITH TARGET’S LOCATION 0558G. NUMEROUS METALLIC TRANSIENTS DETECTED POST DETONATION.
2) SUBMARINE KAZAN ENGAGED AND SUNK DURING EGRESS FROM OP AREA.
BT
“It’s done,” Hardy said, almost without thinking, then pulled himself up short. “This doesn’t say much about the launch facility’s status—‘metallic transients detected post detonation.’”
Patterson sighed and admitted, “They probably don’t know, Lowell. If Kazan was in the area, they were likely too busy to watch the results.”
Instead of sitting on one of the couches, Joanna came around and perched on the edge of Hardy’s desk. He reached up to her and she took his hand, giving it a squeeze.
She observed, “We know Carter managed to launch the attack, sink a submarine nearby, and felt safe enough to send us a message.”
“And, even if they’d said the facility had been destroyed, we’d need independent confirmation,” Hardy agreed.
“I’ve had all the intelligence agencies listening hard to the Russian Navy communications network. Message traffic in the Northern Fleet and the Arctic has almost doubled, and the time frame for this activity is consistent with the time in Carter’s message. Better yet, some of it’s been in the clear, and they all describe an underwater attack and some sort of calamity.”
“Then that’s it.” Hardy called out for his chief of staff, who appeared instantly. In response to Sellers’s expectant look, he answered, “It’s good news, Dwight. Set up the press conference for an hour from now.”
Sellers nodded and disappeared. The first couple sat for a few moments, smiling like proud parents.
Joanna finally stood and announced, “If you’re going to have a press conference, I’ve got work to do.” She stroked his cheek. “And you’d better shave.”
First word of the attack reached Defense Minister Trusov early that morning; the phone call from Admiral Komeyev seemed too incredible to believe. Unwilling to take the commander-in-chief of the Russian Navy at his word, or hopeful that he had somehow been misled, Trusov took the time to speak directly to the Prima base commander. The minister spent precious minutes absorbing the news, questioning Admiral Gorokhov for specifics, and struggling to overcome the surprise and shock he felt. He couldn’t delay reporting to the president for long, though, and finally yielded to duty. He called the president’s aide to arrange the earlier than usual meeting, got dressed, and headed for the Senate Building
As soon as Fedorin saw General Trusov’s expression, he knew it was bad news.
“Comrade President,” the minister started out slowly. “I regret to inform you that the Drakon launch installation has been destroyed.” Before the president could ask the obvious question, Trusov continued, “It appears to have been a direct frontal assault by multiple American submarines. The Sever sensor net reported torpedo noises and explosions near the launcher, as well as numerous submarine engagements between our forces and the enemy. The Navy CINC reports that two American submarines were hit and sunk during the battle.” Trusov sighed heavily, and added, “We have also lost contact with Kazan, and it is likely she was sunk.”
The Russian president listened to Trusov; he seemed distant at first, then furrowed his brow, concentrating, as if trying to understand the minister’s words. “That can’t be right,” he finally responded. “The launch site is heavily defended. There must be an error.”
“I confirmed the Navy’s report with the base commander himself,” Trusov answered patiently. “The recordings from the Sever net will be sent to St. Petersburg for analysis and confirmation, but at the same time as the explosions, the control station on the island showed alarm lights on all six launch tubes, as well as the four loaded torpedoes themselves. Gorokhov reports that it’s impossible to launch any of the weapons. He was sending divers to survey the damage.”
“Yes, absolutely,” Fedorin suddenly responded. “It’s vital that the launchers be repaired immediately. The weapons as well, if they have been damaged. When did you speak to the base commander?”
Trusov checked the wall clock. “Perhaps an hour ago.”
“Then call him now. We will hear what the divers have discovered.”
Trusov had expected this, and it only took a few moments to arrange the call. He handed the receiver to Fedorin. “The base commander is Vice Admiral Gorokhov,” he reminded the president.