The blast knocked her off her feet, hurling her against the main console. Something in her back snapped with a report that seemed to deafen her… or was that sound her back? There seemed to be no pain… but she couldn’t move. Then she saw the outer bulkhead open inward. There was no feeling as the torrent swept down on her.
Captain Sergoff was positive that he had become a human missile as Seratov raced toward its target. In the last seconds, he had dismissed the possibility of ever again seeing his family. Seratov was hurtling along at flank speed, following its own torpedoes toward their target. The resolute Danilov remained perched on a stool, lost in his own thoughts, eyes shut tight as he once again envisioned the world beyond the hull. He’d remained absolutely silent since the torpedoes had been fired, lost in the picture he saw developing as he listened to the reports about him.
Danilov saw his four torpedoes launched as Imperator sank below the ice. They were well on their way before the giant submarine could begin to challenge him. He knew Imperator was turning to shoot and smiled inwardly at his wise decision to come in from astern.
He opened his eyes and uttered one word, “Dive!” as loudly as he could. It would be their only chance. He knew Imperator was diving also. At this speed, they would go down quickly — though he had no idea whether it would be fast enough to avoid the torpedoes bearing down on him. Strangely enough, he was not the least concerned with survival at this stage. His entire being was concentrated on eradicating the foe threatening the Motherland — halting it in any manner possible… including sacrificing himself.
Seratov felt as though it was standing on end as the bow planes wrenched them into a sharp dive. Lozak shouted a warning to the men in the control room as the deck fell away from under them. Loose gear clattered across the deck.
“Range to torpedoes?” Danilov shouted.
“Seven hundred meters.”
“Can we get under them?”
“No… maybe… I don’t know…”
An explosion, representing the last of their torpedoes, was clearly audible. “That’s a hit,” shouted the weapons officer. “A hit… a hit…” His voice faded as he peered about the control room at the others tightly grasping the nearest handhold. Not a one of them had ever experienced such a sharp dive.
“Captain, my angle is getting too steep. I… I have to pull back on the planes.” The diving officer was already changing the angle as he called out to Lozak. “Too close to losing control… is it all right?” he finished tentatively.
Lozak turned to see Danilov nodding his head rhythmically in agreement. Either they had evaded… or they would be dead shortly. Even Steven Lozak now accepted his fate calmly. Danilov’s desire to destroy Imperator at all costs had now infected him. It no longer seemed to matter if they returned to base, or if he achieved all the promotions he dreamed of. He was comfortable with the concept that it seemed much more important to sacrifice for the homeland. He found himself totally involved in Danilov’s objective.
The deck mercifully began to return to an acceptable angle.
“Torpedoes appear to be passing overhead. Probably too close to reacquire us—” The report was interrupted by a tremendous blast that sent almost every man reeling off his feet. The lights blinked out as Seratov rolled viciously to starboard. For an instant, darkness and terror ruled. Then the battle lanterns came on, revealing a control room without a man still at his station.
Steven Lozak was the first to return to his feet. One arm had been wrapped about a support bar as they dived, preventing him from flying across the room. He saw by the dials that Seratov was still moving forward; her engineering spaces seemed to be intact. One of the planesmen slid back into his seat, reaching instinctively for the wheel in front of him. Without a word, he nodded over his shoulder to Lozak that it appeared to be functioning.
“Stop all engines — hold your depth.” Lozak was in control and felt strangely calm.
The political officer moved quickly to the executive officer’s position and called over the ship’s speaker for damage reports — the torpedo had hit forward… heavy damage in the torpedo room and living spaces… no fire… but flooding was out of control forward.
“We’re taking on water too fast,” the political officer said. “We’ll have to surface.” His hand was gesturing upward as he spoke.
Lozak shook his head. “Not yet.” He looked about for Danilov. The admiral had been thrown across the control room and had come to rest in a sitting position near one of the weapons control consoles. His left arm hung limply at his side. A deep gash across his forehead poured dark blood down one side of his face. “Admiral, are you able to speak to me?” Lozak moved tentatively in his direction, fearing the man who controlled everything in his life might be unable to function.
Danilov did not move. His eyes looked up to the advancing Lozak and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words emerged. He blinked his eyes, then shut them for a moment. His forehead wrinkled in pain. When he opened his eyes again, it appeared to those around him as if he was more in control. His lips strained to form a sound — then the words came out fitfully, “Sergoff… is that you, Sergoff?”
“It’s Stevan Lozak,” the captain answered softly, kneeling beside the admiral.
“I can’t see you. Captain. Are you in front of me?”
“Yes, Admiral.”
“I can’t see anything.” Danilov sighed. “Are we… are… what is the ship’s status?”
“We’ve been hit forward… taking on water rapidly at about two hundred meters. We have to surface, I think, if there’s any way to save the ship.”
“Sergoff. Where’s Sergoff?”
Lozak peered about the control room. He recognized one of the sailors kneeling by Sergoff. He beckoned another over to help him and they rolled the limp Sergoff onto his back. One of the men felt for a pulse; the other held his hand by Sergoff’s nose. There was no indication of life. Then the second pointed at his neck. The first looked back at Lozak and shook his head.
“Captain Sergoff was severely injured. Admiral. I’m afraid he’s dead.”
“Oh…” Danilov squeezed his eyes tightly again as if he would be able to see when he opened them. He stared sightlessly back at Lozak. “Imperator… what has happened to the American?”
Lozak glanced about as if searching for the answer. He spotted his weapons officer and called out, “What does sonar have on the American?”
“We have only the hydrophones on the port side. Captain. We are having trouble.”
“We were both diving at the time.” Lozak snapped back sharply. “We were both close, no more than seven or eight hundred meters at one time. You must hear something.” They were interrupted by the crash of a bulkhead collapsing against tons of seawater. The political officer’s face was pale now as he restated the obvious. “We have little time. Either we try for the surface now or sink.”
Lozak reluctantly began the orders to surface. He knew they were taking grave chances maneuvering with so much weight forward, and that they would increase that weight as they moved upward, but there was no choice. There seemed so many reasons to go along with the political officer. Lozak was responsible for the safety of his submarine. He was also defenseless. The torpedo room had been destroyed.