The Sea King turned on to its final approach to a helipad at the Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickham.
Sam frowned. “You said it was the most advanced submarine on Earth?”
Painter nodded. “I’m afraid we’ve lost it.”
“How?”
“We don’t know. It might have been a mechanical malfunction, it might have imploded, it could have run aground into a submerged mountain, an accident with a torpedo bay…” Painter sighed heavily. “Or…”
“What?” Sam asked.
It was the president who finally answered. “There’s a chance its commander has intentionally stolen the submarine and its technology.”
Sam was mortified. “Who was its commander?”
The president spoke directly to Tom, “I’m sorry son, your father was in command.”
The Sea King landed adjacent to the main administration complex of the submarine command. It was hard to hear anything above the scream of the helicopter’s powerful engines. The pilot finally shut them down, and Tom’s voice became audible.
“No way, my father never would have betrayed his country. The U.S. Navy was the closest thing to God to my father. There’s no way he would have betrayed it.”
The president put his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. “We know. Your father has served his country for more than four decades. No one is really suggesting he’s behind this, but we can’t rule out the chance that someone on board did.”
Sam asked, “How many on board?” Sam asked.
The secretary of defense answered without hesitation. “There were 192 submariners, men and women, the absolute cream of the crop — they were hand-picked by Admiral Dwight Bower, himself.”
Tom took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and pushed his hand through his hair. “How long can they survive if the submarine’s lying on the seabed somewhere?”
“Painter?” The secretary intoned, turning to the secretary of defense.
“Around 120 days, give or take. She’s equipped with a symbiotic drive which can theoretically support the homeostasis system on board indefinitely. The crew still need food and water though. She’s equipped with a new cloaking engine which absorbs all sound, making her completely undetectable by sonar. She’s also the fastest nuclear sub ever built, by a fair margin — which, unfortunately in this situation, significantly widens our search area.”
“No distress beacons were recovered?” Sam asked.
“None.”
“Well at least theoretically we have plenty of time, right?” Tom asked. “Assuming they’re just stuck.”
Painter turned to the secretary, waiting for her response.
“No,” she said. “Time is something we don’t have a lot of. We lost contact seventy-eight days ago.”
“Seventy-eight days!” Tom said, exasperated.
“All right,” Sam said, placating his friend. “So, what’s the plan then?”
The president faced him directly and said, “Right now, we’ve exhausted our options, and we’re looking to you and Tom to find a needle in a haystack, without knowing which ocean that haystack resides.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
The U.S. Navy Undersea Rescue mobile command center was housed in a basketball court, which had been appropriated for this specific mission. The large room was abuzz with people working round the clock to avert the tragedy. Sam took in the sight of more than a hundred people, who worked across an array of desks, laptop computers, communication stations, satellite feeds, and in a private meeting, liaising with people from submarine search and rescue throughout the world in private meetings.
The president of the United States, the secretary of defense, and the chairman of the joint chiefs of staff disappeared to attend a briefing with the COMSUBPAC–Commander, Submarine Force, U.S. Pacific Fleet, leaving Sam and Tom in the hands of the commander of the U.S. Navy Undersea Rescue Unit.
A man in his mid-fifties greeted Sam with a firm handshake. “I’m Commander Benjamin Woods. I’m currently in charge of the search and rescue operation for the USS Omega Deep. I’ve been involved with the deep submergence rescue program since the 1980s, having originally trained on the DSRV-1 Mystic, back when she was still in service.”
“Sam Reilly,” he said, shaking the commander’s hand, “And this is Tom Bower.”
The commander greeted Tom with a hard smile. “Pleased to meet you, sir. I knew your dad for nearly four decades. He’s a good man.”
Sam was pleased that Woods hadn’t yet written Tom’s father off as deceased.
Commander Woods said, “Chairman of the joint chiefs of staff, General Painter, has briefed me to bring you up to speed with the project so far. I’ll fill you in what we know and don’t know. Then, we’ll send you back to the Maria Helena to head off a secondary search and rescue plan. That way we’re not doubling up, and I pray you come up with more than we have.”
“Understood,” Sam said. “Where do we start?”
Commander Woods said, “I’ll start by telling you exactly what we know about the USS Omega Deep and what happened when she disappeared.”
Sam listened as he was filled in on the Omega Cloak’s unique capabilities, what tests its commander had already performed, and what, if any, were the submarine’s known faults.
When they were finished, Commander Woods started to point out the senior officers heading up the investigation from their respective branches, including seismic listening posts, real-time satellite imaging, sonar and radar bases throughout the world. In addition to the U.S. Navy’s team, there were civilians too. Scientists, meteorologist, hydrologists, naval engineers, and submarine specialists, who were all there to provide expert advice. Sam noted, with surprise, that they weren’t all American. A team from the British Submarine Parachute Assistance Group and also ISMERLO — International Submarine Escape and Rescue Liaison Office were there to help.
“Any questions?” the commander asked.
Sam made a wry smile. “Yes. I thought this would be more protected?”
“You mean regarding the experimental side of the Omega Deep?”
“Exactly.”
“The two of you and I are the only ones in this building who know the truth about the submarine.”
“What does everyone else think they’re looking for?”
“Oh, they know that a Virginia class block VII nuclear-powered fast attack submarine has gone missing,” Commander Woods said with a suppressed smile. “But they don’t know about its Omega Cloak. As you can imagine, that’s heavily classified. You’ve been brought up to speed because of your need-to-know status, and the fact that the secretary of defense was adamant that you both had explicit first-hand knowledge of the material, blackbody, which she thought you might use to your advantage.”
Tom asked in a whisper, “How are they supposed to find the submarine without knowing about its unique invisibility capabilities?”
“It doesn’t matter. Those capabilities were designed to make it undetectable. The fact that its disappeared hasn’t changed that.”
Sam persisted, “Still, how can the world find it, if they don’t know what they’re looking for?”
“If the Omega Cloak is still activated we’ll never see that submarine again. It’s as simple as that. All this,” Commander Woods glanced around the packed mobile command center, “is in the off chance we get lucky, and the Omega Cloak is no longer activated.”
Sam continued with the practical issues of the rescue. “If we find it. Then what?”