Forov shrugged. “Once captured, radiation goes on to do its deadly business. We don’t know as much as we want to about it. We have been studying the effects and trying different methods to cure it. So far we have not been successful, but we are gathering lots of data from the few survivors of the first team.”
Forov looked from Anton to Gesny and then back again. He pointed at them. “You did not know this?”
Anton shook his head.
Forov blanched. “I am sorry. I should not have told you. I thought Doctor Zotkin would have. .” He stopped. “I am sorry. I have spoken too much.” He turned to the ladder. “I have to call and get the attendants down here, Comrade Captain. They know how to remove the body—”
“It is not a body, Doctor Forov,” Anton said, his voice crisp and sharp. “It is an injured sailor, and you will treat him.”
Forov put a foot on the bottom rung. “There is nothing I can do. He is as dead now as he will be within the hour.”
Anton stepped forward. Forov’s breath caused his nostrils to widen. “If you go up that ladder without seeing to this man, I will have you arrested. Do you understand me?”
Forov took his foot off the rung. “Maybe I could give him a shot of morphine or something to ease his pain.”
“You do what you are here to do, Doctor Forov.”
Forov wiped his hands on his pants and squatted beside Eko-mov.
Anton stared as Forov tentatively reached forward and unbuttoned Ekomov’s sleeve. Forov looked up at Anton. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I have to go to medical for my kit.”
“You have two minutes, Doctor.”
“Yes, Comrade Captain.”
Anton watched the heavyset bear of a man disappear through the forward hatch. His first impression of the man had been much different. Crisis and fear provided the true metrics of a man, not appearances, and in this instance Forov had been found lacking. If radiation had caused Ekomov’s condition, then how could it affect those around him?
“You think Chief Ekomov is radioactive?” Gesny asked.
“It does not matter right now, XO. What matters is that we do something for the man. Would you go topside and call the attendants or whoever it is Forov wants to come? Tell them to hurry. Maybe the facilities from where Ekomov came will have the medical care he needs.”
Gesny’s feet disappeared through the hatch overhead at the same time as Forov reappeared through the forward hatch. Without speaking to or looking at Anton, Forov knelt beside Ekomov, pulled a syringe from his small black bag, and quickly injected the contents into the man’s upper arm. Then he stood. “That should take the pain away.”
A white-smocked scientist climbed down the ladder. He stepped off the ladder, staring down at Ekomov.
“Well,” Anton said, “are you here to help him?”
The man shook his head. “No, sir, Comrade. Doctor Zotkin asked me to bring you this.” He handed a sealed envelope to Anton.
Above them the noise of several people climbing onto the bridge reached them.
Shipley, Arneau, and Weaver bent over the navigational chart spread across the wardroom table.
“This will be most difficult, Captain,” Weaver said.
Lieutenant Van Ness stepped into the wardroom. “Sorry, Captain. It must be something I ate.”
“Don’t let Crocky hear you say that,” Arneau said.
“Yeah, he’ll be most upset,” Weaver added.
“Yes, I know it will be difficult, but our orders are to be prepared to do it when so ordered,” Shipley said.
“You’ve done this stuff before, haven’t you, Skipper?” Arneau asked.
Shipley nodded. “Once. Tokyo Bay. And we nearly lost our lives doing it.”
“We were at war then. They were waiting and watching.”
Shipley picked up his coffee from the next table and sipped the hot drink. “Yeah,” he said as he set it back down. “We were at war and we were winning.” He looked at the three officers. “No offense, but to continue to answer your question, I was with a crew of veterans who had numerous combat missions under their belt; knew what depth charging was like; and knew everything necessary to save the ship from sinking.”
“Captain, we may not have fought in World War II, but we know the Squallfish and we know how to fight it,” Arneau said sharply.
Shipley nodded. “I did not mean to indicate any lack of confidence, XO, so don’t get your bowels in an uproar.” He reached forward and tapped his finger on the chart. “If — no, when—we are ordered to do this, we are going to go into Soviet territorial waters. We are not at war with the Soviet Union, though there are those who believe we should do it now and get it over with. But the fact is, we are not at war. Therefore, if we are detected, we are expendable.”
“Expendable?” Van Ness asked.
Shipley nodded. “Which is better for America? Admit they had a submarine inside Soviet waters, or say we acted on our own or we were off course.”
“Kind of hard to be off course inside Kola Bay,” Weaver said with a nervous chuckle.
Shipley agreed. “Yes, it is.” He lifted his cup again. “Unfortunately, I would like to keep this from the crew, but it will be all over the ship by nightfall.” He sighed. “When we return to Holy Loch, Naval Intelligence and the Naval Investigative Service will be all over us debriefing the men, having us sign nondisclosure statements, and threatening everyone with jail if they so much as breathe a word of this.”
“That will frighten them?” Arneau said with a short laugh. “How do you frighten men who risk their lives in a steel coffin?”
“You don’t, but as long as those of us here keep our concern to ourselves, it will give the crew confidence. All they need to know is that we are on a surveillance mission. Every one of you, including me, needs to keep as much of the information concerning this mission among ourselves as possible. It is nigh impossible to keep our destination from the crew, but there is no reason to be broadcasting it. Everyone understand?”
They nodded in agreement.
Weaver leaned forward. “Skipper, if we are detected, it isn’t as if we have a whole open ocean in which to hide. We only have one way in and one way out of Kola Bay.”
“Then we better not be detected,” Shipley said. He looked around the table. “Everyone understand?”
Van Ness put his finger on the entrance to Kola Bay, touching the small port city of Polyarnyy near the entrance. “Right here is where it is going to start getting scary.”
“I’m scared already, and we haven’t even gotten there,” Arneau added.
“I feel better knowing that,” Weaver added.
“Why right there?” Shipley asked.
“Kola Bay is littered with wrecks, Skipper. There are a couple, according to the Coast and Geodetic Survey charts I have on board. Lots of them sunk during World War II. If we venture outside the navigation lanes, we run the risk of running into them.”
“Does your information tell you their depth?”
Van Ness shook his head. “The publications are made for surface ships. It tells them where they are and if the Coast and Geodetic Survey materials are accurate. The charts are accurate around the U.S. coast, but around here?” Van Ness shrugged. “I doubt they have the same degree of accuracy. Good chance most of these wrecks are based on word-of-mouth recordings.”
“But ought it not tell you something?” Weaver asked.
“It does,” Van Ness replied. “It tells me where they think a wreck exists. Then it warns navigators to stay within the navigational lanes — stay between the buoys when you’re entering and leaving Kola Bay.”
“How deep is Kola Bay at the navigational lanes?” Shipley asked.