“Emergency Blow all main ballast tanks!”
The Compensation Officer pulled the emergency levers, porting high-pressure air to the tanks.
Water surged from the grates beneath the hull as it was displaced by air, but Pavlov had waited too long. Vilyuchinsk was tilted up at forty-five degrees and the air in the ballast tanks surged toward the front of each tank, making the bow of the submarine more buoyant than the stern. Vilyuchinsk tilted upward more rapidly, and once a bubble formed in the top of each ballast tank, the excess air spilled out the grates, leaving too much water inside.
Pavlov and the men in the Central Command Post hung on to consoles and railings as the submarine tilted ninety degrees upward, and Pavlov knew they would not recover.
Slowly, stern first, Vilyuchinsk sank into the ocean depths.
81
MOSCOW
Foreign Minister Lavrov and the chief of the general staff, General Andropov, strode down the long Kremlin hallway toward the president’s office. After a knock on the president’s door and an acknowledgment from within, Andropov entered an office filled with the president’s staff, all with notepads in their hands. It wasn’t even 7 a.m., but it wasn’t often that two of the world’s major military powers went to war.
Kalinin ordered the room cleared, and Minister Lavrov and General Andropov eased into their chairs opposite the president. Andropov tried to assess the president’s mood. Following the discovery of America’s attack on their forces in the Arabian Sea and Iran, Kalinin had been furious. He was a seasoned and normally unemotional politician, but he’d been rattled by America’s attack, and Andropov could not predict how he’d respond to the new information.
“I have unsettling news, Mr. President. The Americans have disarmed the pipeline detonators. We activated over a dozen, and none blew. When we tried to discuss the problem with the detonator’s designer, we learned he was abducted from his villa a few days ago. The Federal Security Service,” Andropov said, referring to the domestic half of the former KGB, “was aware of this matter, but didn’t think it necessary to elevate it to our attention until now.”
Kalinin replied, “He gave the Americans the master code?”
“It appears so.”
“Is there a way to override it?”
“Not that we’re aware of.”
Kalinin folded his hands across his waist and leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. The Americans had broken one-half of Russia’s stranglehold on Western European energy and were trying to break the other.
“How is the battle going?”
“The outcome is still in doubt,” Andropov answered. “There won’t be much left of our surface combatants, but our submarines are having success. We’ve broken into the second tier of their anti-submarine screen and have damaged two of their aircraft carriers, knocking one out of commission. We’ve suffered a few submarine losses, but as best we can tell, we still have at least thirty-five submarines pressing the attack, while the American attack submarines have been reduced to around a dozen. We are going around the few that remain now; they cannot plug the holes.”
Kalinin didn’t respond, and Andropov sensed he was considering ending the battle.
“We cannot stop now,” Andropov said. “With most of our surface combatants heavily damaged or sunk, compared to only two American aircraft carriers damaged, we will emerge in far worse shape. However, our submarines are making progress and it’s still likely that we’ll sink the four American carriers or force them to withdraw.”
Kalinin turned to his foreign minister. “If we are victorious and blockade the Persian Gulf, will that be enough to force the United States and NATO to capitulate in Ukraine and Lithuania?”
“It’s possible. But I agree with General Andropov. It’s the only path forward. If we withdraw, we lose all leverage.”
“Speaking of leverage,” Kalinin said, “where do we stand with India and China?”
Lavrov replied, “We just received China’s answer, and we’ve been in discussions with India.” Lavrov explained China’s position, and after Kalinin provided his thoughts, Lavrov went on to say, “My opinion is the Indians are watching the battle unfold, waiting to commit to the side that pulls ahead.”
Kalinin’s irritation bled through his words. “Sweeten the deal; whatever they ask for. We’ll sort out what we’ll really concede later. But tell the Indians they have one hour to join us. After that, our offer is void.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
As the meeting wound to a close, Kalinin asked, “Where is Minister Chernov? He should have returned from Sochi by now.”
Andropov replied, “I was about to inform you.” He paused, uncertain how to deliver the news. Finally, he said, “Chernov won’t be returning.”
“Why not?”
Andropov relayed the details of Chernov’s death. When he finished, Kalinin stared at him for a long moment.
“Where is O’Connor?” he asked.
“Gorev has her in custody at Chernov’s villa, awaiting your instructions.”
Another long stare, then Kalinin nodded.
82
NEW DELHI, INDIA
On the ground floor of Rashtrapati Bhavan, Indian President Deepak Madan stood at the fifteen-foot-tall arched window in his study, looking out over Mughal Gardens. With water canals, sandstone fountains, and over seventy seasonal flowers, including 159 varieties of roses, the gardens are considered by many to be the soul of the presidential palace. Madan remembered the first time he set eyes on the beautiful grounds. He had hoped the future of his country would be as bright and vibrant as the flowers in Mughal Gardens.
In the last few days, however, a darkness had settled over Rashtrapati Bhavan and Mughal Gardens. The Russians, and now the Americans, were pressuring India to intervene in their conflict. A decision had to be made, and soon. Time was running out, like the proverbial sand in an hourglass, each grain representing the incentives offered by each country. He had discussed the matter with his National Security Council, and their advice was conflicting. Now, with the battle in the Indian Ocean reaching a climax, Madan knew he would be forced to decide.
There was a knock on the door and his ministers of defense and external affairs, along with his national security advisor, entered. Madan motioned the men into upholstered chairs resting atop a handwoven Kashmir carpet. When he joined them, his minister of external affairs, Rahul Gupta, brought Madan up-to-date.
“Russia has offered additional incentives and also given us an ultimatum. We have until eight a.m. to accept.”
“And the Americans?”
“They are awaiting our answer without further discourse.”
Madan spent the next few minutes discussing the new Russian incentives, along with the choice to be made: become a Russian ally in this war, aid the Americans, or remain neutral. Of course, China’s response in the matter weighed heavily on his thoughts.
After considering the options carefully, Madan made his decision.
83
USS HARRY S. TRUMAN
“Brace for impact!”
Captain David Randle gripped his chair tightly as he peered through the Bridge windows toward the incoming missiles. The Russian P-700 Granits were called Shipwreck missiles for good reason. A single missile could wreck an entire destroyer or cruiser, and if it hit Truman’s Island superstructure, where Randle was located, there would be nothing left.