Lieutenant Hamid Zaha was several years younger than Kamani, also single and without family ties. He was taller, stockier, and had much less hair, but he had deep-set, penetrating brown eyes that called for respect. Born in Tehran to middle-class parents, he had joined the Iranian Navy straight from university and was attracted to the submarine life. He was fascinated by the power, the technology and the stealth of these underwater warships. Like his commanding officer, Zaha had served in French nuclear submarines. If he had only had a little more experience, the current position may well have been reversed and he would now be in command of the Delta. However, he had great respect for Kamani and considered it a privilege to serve as his XO on this momentous mission for the glory of Islam and Allah. His beliefs and hatreds followed those of Kamani’s. He dearly wanted to see the destruction of the infidel and a Fundamentalist Islamic Federation in total control of all Middle Eastern regions. The call had been taken up and he could not wait to fulfil what he thought to be his rightful destiny.
After week four, the submarine had crept slowly south through what seemed an endless ocean, at speeds between five to seven knots and at depths of 500 to 600 feet. Yet they were almost to the Antarctic Circle. They had not surfaced once or raised the periscope; navigation had been purely by the vessel’s inertial navigation system (SINS), providing the submarine with a continuous and accurate picture of its position as it passed well east of the Hawaiian Islands and French Polynesia and then on down into the vastness of the empty southern Pacific, west of South America.
During the long, slow journey down the Pacific, Asad Kamani and Hamid Zaha had made good use of their time, quietly observing the myriad of technical activities on board K449, absorbing everything they could under the guidance of Captain Grosky. They carefully studied the operational systems and the day-to-day running of the vessel until they knew almost all there was to know about the individual idiosyncrasies common to every submarine.
Sitting together on their bunks, Zaha voiced concerns. “The Russian crew are very efficient; I worry when we take control the new crew won’t be as good. If we are to succeed, we all need to be at our best.”
“Probably not at first,” Kamani replied. “They will not have spent time together in this class of boat. But do not worry, Hamid, all are handpicked and highly experienced, having operated in French, Chinese and in some cases, American nuclear subs. We will use the time we have during our journey to make them efficient. They will cope well. Remember, it is our first command of a nuclear boat. Our superiors have confidence in us; therefore, we should also have confidence in our crew.”
“This Delta is old. I fear if we are hunted, it will be by state-of-the-art enemy boats.”
“Only if they are aware of us and our mission. Stealth is paramount, swiftly striking the target close in, then disappearing quickly back into the depths. You surprise me, Hamid. I find no fault in any of the systems; the sonar is excellent and in my opinion the refit has made her all but new and capable of holding her own in any situation. You had better believe that, Hamid. We are on a mission for Allah and cannot fail.”
“Russian nuclear sub propulsion systems have a history of breaking down with disastrous consequences, as you well know, and we have a long way to go.”
“You worry too much,” shot Kamani, seemingly irritated by his number two. “I’ve been keeping a close watch on the daily reports from the engineer. Everything is in order.”
Zaha nodded and dropped the subject. “Then all we can hope for is that this boat and the freighter carrying the warhead reach the RV safely and we go on to successfully complete our mission – Allahu Akbar!”
Both men lapsed into silence, returning to their technical manuals.
Now almost at the Antarctic Circle, relatively safe deep in the southern Pacific and ready to turn due east, they were over what Captain Grosky perceived to be the most dangerous part of the journey. He was glad they had not encountered hostile submarines, but would keep the 12 USET-80 torpedoes stored and ready to be fired in the four 21-inch forward tubes. He looked up from the map table and around the control room, taking in the many computer screens and consuls and felt reassured listening to the almost inaudible hum of the 52,000-hp nuclear propulsion system. The two VM-4 Pressurized Water Reactors (PWR) gave unending power for all the Delta’s systems and drove the 10,600 ton sleek hull silently through the depths at a maximum speed of twenty-five knots. It was virtually undetectable under ten knots. From the sonar centre alongside the control, he listened to the subdued voices of the operators as they monitored the updated active/passive sonar suite. Sonar was their eyes and ears, and to him one of the most important parts of the boat. He thought about the SS-N-18 ‘Stingray’, liquid-propelled ballistic missiles (SLBM) sitting snugly in four of the sixteen tubes towards the stern and wondered when the Korean admiral would order the test firing. With these thoughts, he turned to the helmsman. “Come left 90 degrees, steer course two-seven-zero. Make your depth 400. Make your speed ten…”
9
Light drizzle fell as Frank Ryder led the team in single-file through the dense forest heading northwest. Several hours had passed since leaving Sinhung. Travelling through the night with only brief stops, dawn broke and it was time for a full rest. He would have preferred to continue, but worried that Grace might falter in keeping up with the gruelling pace. They had moved relatively swiftly through the darkness, covering some fifteen klicks. Fortunately, the valleys they followed pointed roughly in the direction they were headed, avoiding the necessity of climbing the often steep slopes to either side. This area of mountains was remote and seemingly uninhabited; he hoped it would stay that way. If they were being pursued, searchers would have to cover a very wide, rugged area and he counted upon it being more directly to the north or better still, to the south.
Eventually they reached a rocky outcrop that housed a cave big enough for all to rest under cover until the late afternoon. Then it would be time to move out again. After checking that all was clear inside, they made camp, thankful to be out of the rain. Bom took watch and the rest settled in. Soon they had a small fire burning and they tucked into rations, boiling a pot full of water from a nearby stream.