Harrison put his face mask on, as did Maydwell, then rendered the okay hand signal to the diver on the other side of the Plexiglas shield. Water surged into the hangar, gushing up from vents beneath them. The DDS was soon flooded except for a pocket of air on the other side of the Plexiglas shield, where the Navy diver operated the Dry Deck Shelter. There was a faint rumbling as the circular hatch at the end of the shelter opened, and two divers on each side of the SDV glided toward the chamber opening with a kick of their fins.
The divers pulled rails out onto the submarine’s missile deck, and the SDV was extracted from the hangar. Harrison manipulated the controls and the SDV’s propeller started spinning. The submersible rose slowly, then moved forward, passing above the Dry Deck Shelter and along the starboard side of Michigan’s sail, cruising over the submarine’s bow into the dark water ahead.
An hour later, Harrison eased back on the throttles and the mini-sub slowed. In the distance, faint white lights appeared, wavering on the water’s surface. As the SDV continued onward, the ghostly images of barnacle-encrusted ship hulls drifted toward them.
Harrison angled the SDV to the right, reaching the end of the wharves at Latakia, then turned left and traveled slowly past each ship, searching for the target of interest. Marshal Ustinov should be the thirteenth ship along the wharf. Per Stucker’s pro report, Harrison kept an eye out for a ship with a twin shaft/single rudder design and a sonar dome on the bow.
The thirteenth ship fit the description as expected, but Harrison required one additional piece of information. He adjusted the SDV controls and the mini-sub descended toward the seafloor, coming to rest on the sandy bottom. After pulling himself from the SDV, he surged upward, heading toward the ship’s bow. Upon reaching the surface, he read the hull number painted on the side of the ship.
Marshal Ustinov.
Harrison descended to the SDV, where he helped Petty Officer Maydwell lift the limpet mine from the back seat. The explosive device was designed with buoyancy chambers so it was only slightly negatively buoyant, but they had selected the largest limpet mine for this mission, which was awkward to carry alone. The two men swam toward the bow of Marshal Ustinov, slowing as they approached the cruiser’s sonar dome. The SEALs placed the mine gently against the hull, where its magnetic base attached suddenly with a faint clank.
Maydwell set the fuse timer for two hours, allowing enough time for the two SEALs to return to Michigan. Harrison checked his watch, then activated the timer, and the two men returned to their mini-sub on the seafloor. A minute later, the SDV was headed away from the Syrian seaport. Behind them, the shadowy hull of Marshal Ustinov faded into the murky water.
An hour later, as Harrison headed toward the rendezvous coordinates, Michigan materialized from the darkness. Harrison slowed the SDV and adjusted its course to approach from astern, coasting toward the two Dry Deck Shelters. The SDV slowed to a hover behind the starboard chamber, sinking until it came to rest with a gentle bump on the rails extended onto the missile deck. Two divers appeared on each side of the submersible, latching it to the rails as Harrison and Maydwell pulled themselves from the vehicle. A minute later, with the SDV retracted inside the Dry Deck Shelter, the chamber door shut with a gentle thud.
It wasn’t long before the water was drained into one of Michigan’s variable ballast tanks and the two SEALs exited the Dry Deck Shelter, descending into Missile Tube One. After stripping their gear and warming up under the hot showers inside the tube, they dressed and headed to the submarine’s Battle Management Center, where Harrison debriefed Commander McNeil. Everything had gone according to plan.
Lieutenant Harrison stepped into the Control Room, which was rigged for black. The submarine was at periscope depth at night, with Control illuminated only by the faint indications on the Ballast and Ship Control Panels. Lieutenant Chris Shroyer was the Officer of the Deck again, circling on the periscope, his face pressed to the eyepiece. On the Perivis display, Harrison watched as the scope turned; there was nothing but darkness except for a few tiny white lights in the distance moving from right to left as the periscope rotated.
Harrison had reported the time the limpet mine fuse had been activated, which was relayed to Captain Wilson, who had decided to remain at periscope depth. As the time approached, he heard the Captain’s voice, and Harrison spotted Wilson’s faint outline in the Captain’s chair.
“Officer of the Deck, expose nine feet of scope.”
Lieutenant Shroyer acknowledged and gave the requisite order, and the Diving Officer of the Watch made the necessary adjustments. Michigan rose slowly upward, pushing the top of its sail to within a few feet of the water’s surface.
Harrison sensed an individual in Control moving toward him, and it took only a few seconds to realize the five-foot-five-inch-tall officer stopping beside him was Lieutenant Jayne Stucker, observing in the Control Room, as was Harrison. He leaned in her direction.
“Why nine feet of scope?” he asked quietly.
Stucker replied softly, “The earth is round, you know.” A smile flashed across her face in the semidarkness as she poked fun at the stereotypical Special Forces image: all brawn and no brain. Harrison returned the smile. Although the young Lieutenant was barely half Christine O’Connor’s age, there was something about Stucker that reminded him of his former fiancée.
As he wondered what Christine was up to, Stucker elaborated. “Due to the curvature of the earth, how far you can see is determined by your height of eye. Captain Wilson ordered Michigan as close to the surface as possible, raising the scope optics. Depending on what type of fireworks your limpet mine produces, we might see something.”
“Got it,” Harrison said. His eyes shifted to the red digital clock in the Control Room. Five more minutes.
The minutes passed slowly, and as the clock approached the designated time, Lieutenant Shroyer paused his circular rotations and steadied the periscope on the bearing to Latakia. Harrison’s eyes shifted back to the Perivis display.
The time counted down, reaching the two-hour point, but there was no visible indication the mine had detonated. Harrison sensed the tension in the Control Room as the Captain and his crew tried to assess whether their mission was a success.
A report over the speakers broke the silence in Control. “Conn, Sonar. Detect explosion on the spherical array, bearing zero-nine-five. Correlates to Latakia.”
Harrison felt the tension dissipate. The limpet mine had probably just blown a hole in the bottom of the ship and hadn’t detonated any munitions aboard. They’d have to wait until morning, when satellite reconnaissance was received, combined with local HUMINT — human intelligence — to fully assess mission success.
Captain Wilson ordered his Officer of the Deck, “Come down to two hundred feet, course two-zero-zero, speed standard.”
It was time to vacate the area.
27
MOSCOW
Defense Minister Boris Chernov eased into a chair in the small conference room in the Kremlin Senate, wondering if the unexpected news he’d deliver would help or hurt his attempt to persuade President Kalinin. Gathered around the conference table this morning were the same men who had been present during the initial briefing. Kalinin was seated at the head of the table, and to his right sat SVR Director Gorev, Chernov, and Foreign Minister Lavrov. On the other side of the table were four military officers: Chief of the General Staff General Sergei Andropov and the commanders of the Russian Ground Forces, Aerospace Forces, and Navy.