“The task of this team will be to place a shaped charge explosive device on the hull of the submarine, just below its reactor compartment. They will then return to Sea Devil, where the charge will be detonated.
The massive force of the resulting explosion will rip open the American sub’s hull and cause its reactor vessel to plummet into the depths below. Laboratory tests show that there’s a ninety-seven percent probability that the reactor will melt down at this point, causing plutonium fuel pellets to be directly spewn on the seafloor. And in such a way, an ecological disaster of unprecedented dimensions will poison the Scottish waters for decades to come.
“An enraged populace will rush to Parliament to express their outrage. Their fellow citizens will unite behind them as they demand that the rest of the submarines be removed and the base closed. In this same manner, the English facility at Falsane will also be forced to shut down operations, and the West will have lost two of its most strategic ports in all the globe, all for the price of a single, shaped-charge explosive.”
“Why, that plan’s absolutely ingenious!” interrupted the Admiral of the Fleet.
“As we learned during the Chernobyl accident, nothing scares the Europeans more than the threat of nuclear contamination. They’ll be horrified when they hear of the meltdown. Their scientists will release various studies of gloom and doom, and all over Europe the peace groups will have a field day.”
“Can you imagine what the NATO ministers will have to say as they meet in Brussels to discuss this disaster?”
asked Igor, his face red with emotion.
“Not only will they vote to remove every single American nuclear warhead from European soil, but they’ll most likely demand the removal of all of their troops as well.”
“Of course they will,” concurred Konstantin Markov.
“Uncle Sam will be finished on the Continent, and as NATO withers away, the Warsaw Bloc will gratefully move in to fill the void.
“Igor, my friend, you’ve outdone yourself this time.
Though I’d still like to learn more of the details, I certainly don’t have any major apprehensions. What about you, Comrade Krasino?”
The bureaucrat’s impassive expression failed to display any outward show of support as he sucked in a deep breath and guardedly responded.
“In all my years of service to the Motherland, I must admit that this is the wildest proposals I’ve ever heard. I readily agree that if this operation is successful, the results will be much as you projected. But I foresee two major weaknesses in your train of thought. First, and most important of all, if a Sea Devil couldn’t even penetrate the meager defenses around California’s San Clemente island, how are we going to be able to successfully sneak one into some of the most militarily sensitive waters in all the planet?
And secondly, even if this penetration does somehow succeed, what kind of shaped-charge can penetrate the hull of a submarine, and how can the desired aftereffects be guaranteed?”
Igor carefully listened to the bureaucrat’s concerns and briefly caught Konstantin Markov’s glance before attempting a response.
“Your questions are most astute, Comrade Krasino, and I will do my best to answer them. The Sea Devil that was apparently detected off the coast of California had a long history of mechanical difficulties. We believe that it was a defective engine bearing that gave it away to the American hydrophones.
The vessel in question is currently being conveyed back to Vladivostok where a detailed examination will determine this fact for certain. But regardless, let me reassure you that in over one hundred previous operations, not once has a Sea Devil been tagged by enemy ASW forces. This leads me to believe that the penetration that I just proposed can readily be achieved by a Sea Devil in first class working order.
“Your other concerns are completely unnecessary. The charge that I spoke of has been available to us for some time now. It is based on a shaped-plastic compound that’s been known to easily penetrate the armor plating of a battle tank. Unlike our own double and triple hulled vessels, the thrifty Americans utilize only a single hull on each of their various classes of submarine. It should be no problem for our intelligence people to determine the exact location of the reactor vessel. We have ordinance and design experts who will then determine the precise locations to set the charges in order to achieve the desired hull damage.”
The Deputy Secretary nodded thoughtfully.
“And what if the Sea Devil was to be discovered in the midst of this operation?”
Igor was quick with his answer.
“If such an unlikely thing were to come to pass, the crew would first attempt to escape. If all routes are subsequently proven closed to them, the vessel will be scuttled, while the Spetsnaz operatives swallow the suicide pills that will guarantee their anonymity. As always, every effort will be made to ensure that the motherland can’t be connected to any of the wreckage that may be subsequently salvaged.”
“It sounds as if you have thought this plan out most fully. Admiral,” offered the Deputy Secretary.
“Though covert missions of this magnitude certainly have their risk, it appears that the Rodina has much more to gain than it has to lose in this instance. I too would like to see the pertinent details that the Admiral of the Fleet requested. Yet other than a few technical concerns, I see nothing that would prevent me from supporting such an ingenious plan. My congratulations, Admiral Starobin, on a job well done.”
Hardly believing what he was hearing, Igor fought the temptation to cry out in triumph. The Admiral of the Fleet was also caught off guard by the bureaucrat’s ready acquiescence. Still shocked by the scope of his compatriot’s plan, Konstantin Markov loudly cleared his throat and voiced himself.
“All this discussion has made my throat dry. If only I had something to wet it with.”
Taking this as the hint that it was meant to be, Igor called out towards the kitchen.
“Svetlana, to hell with that tea, bring out the champagne!”
His wife was well prepared for such a command, and arrived on the porch seconds later with a tray holding a bottle of champagne and four crystal glasses.
Igor briefly examined the label of the bottle before twisting off the foil and expertly popping the cork. His hand was shaking slightly as he filled each glass.
Both Konstantin Markov and Stanislav Krasino stood to join their host and hostess in a toast.
“To the Motherland!” said Igor proudly.
“Long may she prosper!”
The four clinked glasses and took a sip of their drinks.
“My, that’s quite excellent,” commented the Admiral of the Fleet as he smacked his lips together.
“Is it French?”
“Comrade Markov, I’m surprised at you,” scolded Svetlana Starobin.
“Don’t you think that the Rodina is capable of distilling spirits as good as the French?”
“What my wife’s trying to say is that this superb vintage was bottled in our own Ukraine.”
“You don’t say,” mumbled the Admiral of the Fleet, who looked down to check the label on the bottle. Satisfied with what he saw, he raised his glass upward and initiated a toast of his own.
“To the brave men and women of the Rodina, whose sacrifice makes this bountiful harvest possible!”
Again the foursome lifted their glasses to their mouths. No sooner did Igor refill them than Deputy Secretary Krasino offered a proposal.
“And I’d like to drink to the true heroes of the Motherland, the brave men and women of our military, whose selfless toil and extraordinary vision ensures our security today and guarantees the eventual emergence of one planet united by the bonds of communism tomorrow.”