"Thank you for your work, Crimean Eighteen. We will notify the Ukrainian Navy. Crimean Eighteen, go to ten thousand and resume course for Constanta."
"Crimean Eighteen, roger that. Resuming ten thousand. Good luck to the Navy."
Lifeboat
The Black Sea
The scream and the tilting boat brought Masha's eyes off to the left. A black creature with goggles and a hose in his mouth was pulling up on the side of the boat.
"Lieutenant John L. Smith, United States Navy, " the creature said. Having studied some English at university, Masha realized that the man had just spoken to her in English.
The children stopped screaming, but most still cried. They huddled on the other side of the boat, staring at the strange man in the black rubber suit.
"Is everyone okay?" the man said.
"I Masha. This Aleksey, " Masha tried her broken English. She gestured at the children. "We okay."
"Great, great." The diver put the hose back into his mouth and disappeared under the water again.
In a second, others were swimming in the water around the lifeboat. An inflatable rubber raft appeared on the surface. Some of the divers climbed into the rubber boat. Some swam with a rope from the back of the raft to the lifeboat. Others attached some sort of small outboard motor to the rubber raft.
They pulled a cord, and the motor started. The others disappeared underwater. In a moment, the rope tightened, and the lifeboat was moving through the water. The men in black driving the rubber boat made a wide turn in the water, and Masha saw the long, sleek outline of a submarine off in the distance.
CHAPTER 21
Ilyushin I1-96 jetliner
150 miles northeast of Odessa, Ukraine
President Vitaly Evtimov looked out the window of the presidential cabin and saw the MiG-29 Fulcrums that accompanied all flights made by the president of the Republic.
If this summit were successful, perhaps he could pull President Butrin out of the American orbit.
The plan was to have the orphans step off the freighter, then climb Odessa's most famous landmark, the Potemkin Stairs, the long staircase of over two hundred steps that started at the waterside and went straight up the hill to Primorskaya Street, where they would be ceremoniously greeted by the two presidents.
He looked over the speech that had been written for him for the joint ceremony by the pier in Odessa.
To my dear friend President Butrin, and to the warm, peace-loving people of Ukraine, I bring heartfelt greetings and open arms from the people of Russia.
We are bonded by a history forged by war, tempered by peace, and destined for prosperity.
Today, we enter into a new era of cooperation that will bring good will to all peoples of our region.
But justice for all will never be realized until there is justice even for the weakest of the earth.
For the orphans of the Ukraine, for the orphans of the East, we share your compassion… and we share your passion.
Evtimov could read no more. He folded the speech and put it back in his briefcase. The events in Georgia still had him fuming. How had his Fulcrums been gunned down by American F-15s? Although the most serious international crisis still loomed around the missing plutonium, Evtimov found it difficult to contain his temper about America's meddling with what was essentially a Russian problem.
He had swallowed Russian pride by using diplomatic rather than military force in reponse, and supposed that the proposed UN condemnation proposal was the best solution. But if the Americans fired on any other Russian targets, he may not be so apt to respond diplomatically.
Next time, he would respond with the hammer and the sickle. That thought brought some degree of satisfaction.
"Pardon me, Comrade President."
Evtimov looked up and saw his chief of staff, Sergey Semyonovich Sobyanin, standing in the entrance to the presidential cabin. He wore a grave look on his face.
"What is it, Sergey Semyonovich?"
"It is the orphans, sir. We believe that the freighter they were on has sunk."
"Sunk?"
"A distress call came on a VLF frequency from Alexander Popovich, the freighter carrying the orphans. The distress call claimed that the freighter had been hit by a torpedo and was sinking."
"A torpedo? Who? How?"
"We don't know. A Ukrainian airliner that heard the signal is reported to have flown over the area and seen a submarine on the surface near where the freighter was last believed to have transmitted."
"What submarine? One of ours?"
"The pilot believes that the submarine could be of the U.S. Los Angeles class."
"Impossible!"
"I would think so also, Vitaly Sergeivich. But the airline pilot is a former ASW pilot in the Ukrainian Navy. He could be mistaken, of course. But something is not right."
The president stood, crossed his arms, and walked back and forth down the aisle.
"Does President Butrin know?"
"Yes, sir. Butrin knows."
"And?"
"He wants an emergency meeting with you at the airport as soon as you land."
Evtimov let that sit for a minute. "I have a feeling the Americans will help us get Ukraine back despite ourselves."
"Perhaps, " the chief of staff mused.
"Notify the commander of our Sevastopol naval base. I want every ship and plane we have scouring that sector of the sea. If the Americans are responsible, we will find that sub and sink her. And then we will kick them out of Georgia, and kick them wherever else we need to kick them! Every ship and plane. Do you hear me?"
"Yes, sir, Comrade President."
Lifeboat
The Black Sea
The rubber boat churned through the water, towing the lifeboat in its wake. It approached the stern of the submarine.
Men stood on the top of the submarine, in orange jackets, waving directions at the rubber boat. A small, floating ramp extended from the back of the submarine into the water.
The children's fear had transformed into a fixated fascination, at least for now. For that, Masha was grateful. At least they had calmed down a bit. Aleksey, however, still sitting in the front of the boat, was strangely subdued, as if he had turned into a ragdoll. Perhaps he was exhausted from getting them off the ship and fighting the whirlpool.
One sailor tossed a rope into the lifeboat from the submarine while another crouched down the ramp and stepped into the boat. He tied the rope to the boat. Others on the submarine pulled the bow of the boat up onto the floating ramp.
The man spoke in perfect Russian. "I am Lieutenant Phil Jamison, United States Navy. Welcome aboard the USS Honolulu. But we must hurry. Come, children!"
Inside, Masha cheered. Americans!
Aleksey went up the ramp first. The children scampered up the ramp in a single-file line, and the men were lifting them up and passing them to other men who were inside the hatch of the submarine. Finally when Sasha headed up the ramp, Masha left the boat.
"This way, ma'am." The Russian-speaking lieutenant directed her to another orange-jacketed sailor, who stood beside the open hatch. The sailor took her hand and helped her climb down a ladder.
An officer stood at the bottom of the ladder. At least, she assumed he was an officer. He wore a dark blue jump suit and had gold oak leaves on his collars. The name Pippen was written across his chest.
This officer spoke no Russian. He put his hand on her shoulder and led her down a very dark, narrow hallway in the submarine. He directed her into a room off to the left, where the children were congregated. It looked like some sort of a dining room and had fluorescent lights hanging overhead.
He pointed to a seat at the end of one of the long metal benches at the table.
She sat and exhaled.
And then, it hit her.
Dima!
"Dima! Dima! Where is Dima?" She stood, screaming. "Dima! Dima!
Dima!"
"Settle down, ma'am! Settle down!" some of the Americans were saying.
"Masha, calm down!" Aleksey said. "I am sure he is fine. We did what we had to do!"