This was quite a career path for the son of a Birmingham collier. But it only went to show that any man could work his way to the top, no matter one’s social standing at birth, if an individual was willing to work hard, apply oneself, and make the necessary sacrifices.
His country had entrusted him with a warship worth many million pounds, one of the most sophisticated vessels ever to fly the white pennant. As commander of the third Royal Navy submarine to carry the name Talent, East brook was also responsible for the lives of 111 officers and enlisted men. Never one to take his duty lightly, he knew that his current assignment was probably the most important of his entire career.
The halfway point of the crossing was rapidly approaching, and Eastbrook was so absorbed in his duty that sleep was all but impossible. To pass the lonely midnight watch, he sequestered himself in his cramped stateroom, one of the few private spaces in the equipment-packed vessel.
Even though his cabin was about the same size as his walk-in closet back home in Yelverton, he was not about to complain. Eastbrook had done his best to make the stateroom as comfortable as possible, including setting up a small stereo system. Currently playing in the background was a CD that the captain of the Casablanca had given him.
Saint-Saens’s Symphony no. 3 was a new piece of music for him to enjoy, especially since it was orchestrated for the organ, one of his favorite instruments.
An abrupt knock on his cabin’s closed door broke the music’s spell and he replied with a curt, “Enter.”
Quick to do so was the lean, six-foot figure of his executive officer.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Captain, but something’s come up that I thought you should know about.”
Eastbrook turned off the stereo and looked up to address his bearded shipmate. “No bother at all, Number One. I couldn’t sleep anyway.”
“It’s the Queen, sir. She’s broken from her great circle route, on a new course of zero-three-zero.”
“Is it ice?” quizzed Eastbrook, thinking out loud.
“It’s certainly possible, sir. Though pack ice in this portion of the Atlantic is usually limited to the Grand Banks sector.”
Eastbrook glanced at the bulkhead-mounted, framed picture of the QE2 at sea that the ocean liner’s bearded master had given him. “It’s most unlike Captain Prestwick to deviate from his planned route,” he reflected. “It must be prompted by an environmental factor that we don’t know about. Any change in the status of our inability to receive VLF?”
“Negative, sir. The chief RS has tried every filter available, yet the static remains.”
“If only we could afford the luxury of going to periscope depth and establishing a highfrequency radio link with the Queen,” Eastbrook muttered. “But right now, all we can do is try to further decrease the distance between us. Inform the chief engineer that I’d like to up our speed to thirty knots. And make our new course zero-three-zero. Once this has been attained, I think it’s best if we try to contact the Polk. Perhaps the Yanks know the reason behind this unexpected detour.”
22
Commissar Guan Yin couldn’t have been more satisfied with the Lijiang’s continued progress. Ever since successfully penetrating the GIUK gap, a certain sense of expectation had filled the vessel. After the thousands of kilometers of hazardous underwater travel, they were finally closing in on their mission’s ultimate goal. And even though the majority of the crew hadn’t been briefed on the exact purpose of their mission, all seemed to be aware that they were approaching some moment of truth.
Morale remained excellent, with not a vacant chair available during his last Komsomol meeting. Above all, the men genuinely appeared to be taken with their new captain, as was Guan.
Several of the crew had recently taken to abandoning their uniforms, and standing their watches clothed in then own martial-arts robes. At first, this upset Guan. But then he realized that the men were only trying to imitate their commanding officer, who continued wearing his own unique outfit of white robe, matching cotton trousers, black belt, and bright red headband. Unlike their previous captain’s American poopy suit, Lee Shao-chi’s outfit resembled more the traditional uniforms of China’s ancient warriors. It was nothing to be ashamed of, and the commissar decided that he could overlook this minor infraction.
The control-room watch that Guan was presently standing had two members thusly dressed. One was It. Comdr. Deng Biao. The XO stood on the adjoining periscope pedestal clothed in his white cotton-twill robe that was closed at the waist with a brown cloth belt. This color indicated the level of his martial-arts skills, one below that of their captain.
It was well after midnight, and the Lijiang was headed almost due south, at flank speed. As always, the muted red lights that illuminated this compartment gave the control room a sinister appearance. A hushed quiet prevailed, with the only audible sounds being the soft hum of the ventilation blowers and the distant drone of the sub’s single propeller shaft.
Beside him, the boat’s navigator was making the latest course update at the plotting table. A recent check of this chart showed that the long-anticipated geological feature known as the Hecate Seamount was well within reach. Named after the Greek goddess of the underworld, the seas above this underwater mountain were a fitting place in which to unfold their mission’s next all-important stage.
Guan’s calculations indicated mat the Lijiang should be able to actually hear their quarry. The navigator agreed with him, and together they had discussed the numerous factors that could have delayed their prey.
Patience had never been one of the commissar’s virtues, and when the door to the sonar room swung open and out strode the captain, Guan expectantly made his way over to the XO’s side. Lee Shao-chi navigated a straight course directly to the periscope pedestal. He climbed up onto the conn and studied the dozens of glowing dials and gauges mounted into the bulkhead above the helm. Apparently satisfied with what he was seeing, Lee shut his eyes and initiated a series of deep, even breaths.
“Comrades!” he shouted, his eyelids tightly sealed. “The time is right for you to return with me on the path homeward. Close your eyes, and empty your cluttered minds by expelling your breath to its limit. Then refill your lungs with the sweet essence of life, and prepare yourself for the strategy of the Way.”
Guan decided that it would do no harm to obey their captain’s unusual directive. Yet before shutting his eyes, he noticed that his shipmates had already followed Lee’s instructions without question.
What a strange sight this would make to an outsider, thought Guan, as he closed his eyes tight and purged the air from his lungs. He forced himself to do this completely, before inhaling the deepest breath possible, and then repeating the process.
He did this three complete times, and was in the middle of his fourth inhalation, when the captain’s forceful voice boomed forth once again.
“Comrades, above all else, you must know yourself before attempting to know your enemy. Make your body like a rock, and a thousand things can’t touch you. By training one’s body and spirit, you need never doubt that you will prevail in combat.
“I have just heard with my own ears, the great ship that we have been sent on this long voyage to intercept. Aboard this surface vessel, nine of China’s most-feared enemies are hopefully being held captive by fellow followers of the Way. The Lijiang shall rendezvous with this ship, and the nine traitors transferred into our hold for safekeeping.
“Yet before this rendezvous can be safely initiated, an unexpected obstacle has been brought to my attention that must be dealt with. Sonar indicates that we share these waters with a Russian Akula-class submarine. I fear that our enemy has cleverly assigned this formidable warship with the task of protecting the surface vessel that we seek. I also suspect that there are other submarines that have yet to be detected in these same waters. We must scour these seas clear of every suspected adversary before this most vital of missions can be completed.