Nathan knew they had one task now, and that was get the package up onto the ice.
“Koss, get me a bearing to the ice lead.”
The Navigation Officer worked at his console. Nathan saw Nikki was itching to get involved. He caught her eye and motioned her down with his palm. He’d give Lt Koss a chance, the XO would take over if she could. He’d have words with her.
“Two seven eight, sir.”
“Planesman, 278 make speed for ten knots.”
It was time to get the package ready, so Nathan walked back aft. He entered the galley where the SEALs were eating their breakfast.
“Lieutenant Rice, we’re approaching your stop. It’s time to get off the bus.”
The SEAL pushed his plate away.
“There’s no rush, Lieutenant. It’ll be an hour before we’re ready. But when we are there, we’ll push up through the ice. Have everyone ready at the foot of the sail by then. We’ll let you out and then submerge. The Russians are down here and looking for us. Find your party up there and get them out.”
“Thank you, sir. We’ll be ready.”
Nathan left with two coffees, one for his XO.
“Platoon Chief Konerko,” said Lt Rice. “Get the men ready when you’ve finished here.”
“Sir.”
The boat approached the ice lead. “Ok, Nikki, take her up.”
“Planesman, vent for 70 feet fore and aft. Slow to three knots.”
“Seventy at three, sir.”
The boat neared the icecap. “Trim for 50 feet, all stop.” Nikki knew it was time for patience.
“Fifty feet, all stop, aye sir.”
Benson spun about. “Sir, sir.” The Virginia Visionary looked like he had a Jack Rabbit chewing his balls. “Contact, sir, he was in our baffles. He’s a half mile to our rear. Preliminary analysis is Yasen class.”
“Let me, Nikki,” said Nathan.
The XO stood back, and Nathan took control.
“Trim for depth, let her sink.” USS Stonewall Jackson sank into the depths. She’d no forward speed at all.
Nathan lowered his head. How the hell did that thing find us? He knew there’d be time for that later.
“Weaps, get a Pointer out there.”
“I have Ren in tube five. Flooding tube, outer doors open.” The Pointer was pushed from the tube. “Ren is swimming, he’s on the wire.”
Nathan looked at the depth indicator on his monitor: 900 feet and still sinking.
“Sir, I have possible trim sounds from the contact.”
Benson listened carefully, he had that ability to live the sea. To be there, listening to her creatures near and far, the krill, the squid, fish he couldn’t name, but he knew them by their sounds. He gave them names. Shimmer fish: from the way a sound passed through the shoal. Sucking fish: it sounded as though they sucked at something every minute or so. Waterfall fish: he knew by where they lived and the time of year that they were shellfish. They sounded like they were swimming up a waterfall.
“He’s diving, sir. A shallow gliding dive and making about 5 knots.”
He must sense we’ve gone deep.
Nathan looked at the depth gauge. 1100 feet. “Trim to maintain depth.” He looked to Nikki. “We’ll play dead for now. Let’s see what he’ll do.”
She smiled and nodded.
“Weaps, designate contact as Tango 2. Pick a tube and a Mk48, and slowly, very slowly, flood the tube.”
Weaps ran his fingers over his touchpad and watched. “Tube three, sir. Flooding slow now. Firing solution laid in. Fish is waiting.”
Nathan removed the ship’s intercom from its hook. “All hands, Ivan’s out there. Silent operations.” He replaced the handset. “Benson.” Benson looked up. Nathan flicked an ear. Benson nodded.
Nathan walked over to Nikki. He held his mouth close to her neck below the ear. He could eat her; he sensed she wanted it too.
She could feel his breath on her skin. This wasn’t fair.
He got himself under control and whispered, “What’s our status with the power?”
“Low, sir. Last I looked, and I look a lot, we had 14 %. That’s danger area.”
“Ok, Nik, we’ll try to get on with it.” They’d have to, he knew; that was very low.
“Sir,” said Benson, “he’s come to a stop at 800 feet. He’s 300 feet above us and slightly behind.”
“We’ll wait for now.” Nathan knew they hadn’t much time. This was a nuke and could hang there all week if he wanted to. “What are we doing down here?” he said, raising his palms. “We have half the goddamn Northern Fleet down here keeping us boxed in. It’s us who should be keeping them boxed in. We need to think this one through, right from first principals.”
Nikki put her hand on his forearm. “Let’s have a word, sir. Please?”
The two of them walked back into the companionway. Nathan nodded to Lieutenant Rice of the SEALs.
Nikki stood with her back on the wall, and she beckoned him over. He stood close, as close as he dared.
“Nathan, I agree with you about our aims here, but let’s discuss that when we have those white warriors up on top. That’s our focus now. Then we discuss things, tucked up in your bunk.”
He pulled back and looked at her in surprise.
She waited for several seconds and then broke into a grin. “In your dreams, tiger. Let’s get these men up there on the lid.”
Nathan nodded, and they returned to the control room.
“Weaps, the old ones are the best. How far away is Ren?”
“One mile to the northwest, sir.”
“It’s time for him to cover some ground quietly. Move him west five miles.”
“Sir.”
Ren moved off to the west, and Weaps increased his speed as he got farther away. As Ren moved through the blackness, ice ridges hung down into his world, and he was aware of their presence by micro currents and passive sonar.
“Sir, Ren’s on station, five miles away.”
This had better work, thought Nathan.
“Turn him about and make 12 knots.”
“Sir, he’s come about and is heading in.”
It would take around 20 minutes to cover all the distance. After several minutes he decided to up the threat.
“Get Ren to flood a tube and open outer doors.”
“Ren’s executing.” Ren emitted the sounds requested, and these were picked up by the Krasnoyarsk’s switch guard bow sonar. The tale it told was: “Incoming SSN, tube armed.”
“The Yasen’s moving off to the north, sir,” said Benson. “He’s taking a place off centre to Ren’s track, flooding tube, opening outer doors.”
“How far away is Tango 2?”
“One point six miles, sir.”
Not far enough, Nathan knew. They needed him further away.
“Weaps, move Ren out north. Make it seem that he’s making an outflanking manoeuvre.”
The minutes went by.
“Sir Tango 2’s two and a half miles away.”
It was working slowly, but he’s not far enough away. Shit.
Benson punched the air. “Yes.”
“Benson?”
“Sir, it’s Scooby, he’s back. He’s northeast of us, making six knots.”
The control room smiled and high fived.
“Scooby’s increased speed to ten knots. He’s flooding a tube, opening outer doors. Scooby’s on the attack.”
The Pointer’s passive sonar had detected Ren and the Yasen class and his AI had decided that a simulated attack was underway. His on-board brain had decided to join in.
Several had stood and were raising and pumping their forearms. They knew to remain quiet but didn’t want to. Nathan looked at Nikki, and she walked over, grinned, and high fived him.
“Sir, we’ve a change in tack from Tango 2,” said Benson.
“He’s increased revs, he’s making 16 knots. That’s some acceleration, shit. He’s turning to the north, going deep, speed now 20 knots.” Benson smiled and punched the air. “He’s getting the fuck out of dodge, sir. Two SSNs are more than he can handle.”