Tumanov shook his head, setting the cup down on the table and pulling a chair from the next table. “That has been resolved, Comrade Captain. The men realize the great honor they are being given in helping the Soviet Navy achieve atomic power. Unfortunately, sometimes this honor of doing something so new and unfamiliar makes them antsy about performing in the confines with it.”
“I know of the problems you have had with radiation,” Anton said, his voice cold. Officers on board a warship should be under the command of the captain, but here sat the chief engineer of the Whale, and he reported to Zotkin.
Tumanov nodded as he sipped some of the hot drink. “Yes, sir; everyone knows, unfortunately, and many try to blame Doctor Zotkin for it.” Tumanov’s head moved from side to side a couple of times. “Granted, there were some small mistakes when we started this secret project, but there are always mistakes with new technology. We do not dwell on the mistakes; we just take the lessons learned, correct them, and move on.” Tumanov waved his hand in the air, as if motioning away the recent past.
“We lost some men making those mistakes.”
“Yes, sir, we did. But we have thicker protection between the reactor and the engineering spaces now, sir,” Tumanov said. “Show some respect,” Gesny said.
Tumanov started to say something, thought better of it, and instead replied, “My apologies, Comrade Captain. I am concerned about the success of the sea trials we are about to begin. If my tone seems disrespectful, it is not meant to be so.”
“You speak plainly, Commander.”
Tumanov’s eyebrows wrinkled. He looked at Anton. “I was told we were going to go from the test of the repairs directly to the Barents for the sea trials.”
Lebedev and Gesny looked at Anton. Anton nodded at the papers in Gesny’s hands. “Our chief engineer is partially right, isn’t he, gentlemen. Doctor Zotkin is probably on his way to the destroyers, where he and Admiral Katshora will accompany the Whale inside Kola Bay, where we will do the operational tests.” He nodded at Gesny and Lebedev. “It appears we will participate in an antisubmarine exercise while doing the operational maneuvering to test the limits of atomic power.”
Gesny unfolded the papers. He scanned them as Tumanov continued.
“Comrade Captain, I have divided the watches into three sections for our week. There will be a chief of the watch present at all times. I will periodically inspect the spaces and take readings. I believe you have the test schedule?”
“Most of what Doctor Zotkin says in the paper is predicated on him having communications with the Whale. We have the first set of three tests we are to do.” He looked at Lebedev. “Operations Officer, you are to rework the watch bill so we have our best in the control room and in maneuvering when we start each of these tests.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The tests are going to challenge the Whale in quickness of depth, quickness in changing courses, and depth; and the ability of the atomic power to give us, submerged, speeds similar to what we are able to achieve on the surface—”
“When we finish,” Tumanov interrupted, “Doctor Zotkin wants to know if the only thing stopping atomic power from providing the K-2 with everything we want in terms of speed and maneuverability is the mechanical nature of the submarine infrastructure.”
Gesny’s face reddened. He would leave it to the XO to talk to the engineering officer about proper protocol. Like him, he knew Gesny hated the idea of an officer on board his ship not being under his chain of command. What XO wouldn’t?
Anton let out a deep sigh. “Lieutenant Lebedev, I will expect you to function as the officer of the deck within engineering during every test. XO, you will function as the overall test evaluator.” Tumanov raised his hand. “Comrade Captain, I believe Doctor Zotkin wanted me to be the overall test evaluator.” Tumanov reached over and started pulling the papers toward him.
Anton reached over, smiled, and took the papers from Tumanov. “No need to look, Lieutenant Commander Tumanov. I found nothing in there that said that.”
“But, if I may, sir,” Tumanov replied, reaching forward.
Anton smiled. “As the captain of the Whale, Chief Engineer, I am capable of reading them. Besides,” Anton continued without looking at the papers, “I am the commanding officer of the Whale, and as the commanding officer, I am responsible for the success of the tests. I will decide how we conduct the tests so we may provide the Soviet Navy with the best answers.” He leaned forward. “We do understand who the skipper of this submarine is?”
“Yes, sir,” he stuttered. “But if I could look at the papers, I might be able to show you where Doctor Zotkin—”
“Do you think I am wrong?” Anton asked, his voice tight. “Sir, we all make mistakes.”
“Lieutenant Commander Tumanov, I may be wrong sometimes, but on board the Whale, even when I am wrong, I am always right. Do you understand who the captain of the Whale is?”
“Yes, sir,” Tumanov answered, his voice weaker.
“Good. You, Lieutenant Tumanov, will be in the engineering spaces at all times during the tests. You will be the engineering watch officer so you can ensure that we have the best test results.” It seemed to Anton that the man’s face grew even whiter.
“But sir—”
“There are no ‘buts’ on board my ship when I speak.”
Anton turned. Standing there watching was the zampolit, Lieutenant Tomich. Their eyes met for a fraction of second before Tomich turned and left the doorway to the wardroom.
No one spoke.
THIRTEEN
“Doesn’t tell us much, does it?” Arneau asked, passing the message back to Shipley.
“At least they did something,” Shipley replied. He let out a sigh and leaned back against the bulkhead of the conning tower, putting his hands in his pockets. Across the compartment, small fogs of breath attested to the frigid condition of the submerged submarine.
Arneau looked at Logan. “How long do you think it will take them to track down one of these convoy skippers from World War II?”
Logan shook his head. “I don’t know, sir. All I know is what is in the message. Admiral Frost has directed his staff to Leesburg, Virginia, where a couple of merchant captains have retired. Leesburg isn’t the easiest place to get to. It’s out in the boonies and miles from Washington.”
“If anyone would know about navigating Kola Bay, it will be one of these skippers,” Shipley said. He handed the message to Logan.
A few seconds of silence passed. Shipley looked at the depth. The clock read 2045 hours. “Officer of the deck, what time to the mouth?”
Lieutenant Weaver walked to the navigational table, ran his finger along the dead-reckoning pencil line, and then glanced at the Navy clock. “About forty-five minutes, Skipper.”
Shipley nodded.
“What are we going to do, Skipper?” Arneau asked.
Shipley pushed off the bulkhead. “We are going to execute our mission.” He looked at Weaver. “OPSO, let’s take her up to periscope depth. Have sound keep a three-hundred-sixty-degree lookout for any traffic in the area.”
“Aye, sir. We still have the merchant vessel from earlier,” Weaver said, wishing he had not mentioned it after the words were out. That the skipper was less than pleased with Van Ness would be an understatement.
“Course and speed?”
“Target course remained one eight zero at ten knots. Range fifteen nautical miles.”
Then the merchant would be on the horizon. Little chance of anyone seeing the periscope, and if he was going into Kola Bay, he needed the batteries topped off. Surfacing or snorkeling inside the Soviet bay would be dangerous, but it was something he would have to do at least twice while there.