On arrival the ‘camels’ were to be placed on either side of the submarine, abreast of the fin, and sunk by flooding. Chain cable bridles would be passed under the submarine’s hull from one ‘camel’ to another. This accomplished, compressed air would be forced into them, expelling the water ballast. At the same time Zhukov would blow all tanks and with the positive buoyancy provided by the ‘camels’ she would lift clear of the bottom. The Oktober salvage tugs would then haul her clear of the cove and take her in tow for the 600-mile journey to Murmansk. The naval dockyard there could make good all damage, including building on a new bow section and undertaking such other reconstruction as might be necessary. These were long-term plans. The preoccupation of the salvage experts was to get the Zhukov afloat and haul her clear of NATO territory, so that she might with the aid of tugs and her main engines reach the safety of Murmansk, the nearest Soviet naval dockyard.
At thirteen minutes past two in the morning of Zhukov’s fifth day aground, the sonar operators on watch reported the presence of unidentified underwater swimmers. They were approaching the submarine’s port bow from the direction of the Dragetennene rocks.
The officer-of-the-watch sounded the alarm immediately, the captain was called and emergency state Dobra — repel enemy frogmen — was assumed. The two scuba divers already in the water on routine patrol were ordered to intercept the incoming swimmers. Two standby divers were in the water within less than a minute, and two more were made ready for instant action.
The sea around the submarine was illuminated by arc-lights and ratings with automatic rifles, explosive charges and underwater mortars manned the casing fore and aft. This was an emergency which had been expected.
As the arc-lights came on and night turned into day, leading diver Rostoff — one of the divers on patrol when the alarm sounded — sighted two dark shadows ahead of and beneath him. They were little more that fifteen metres away, swimming abreast close to the bottom of the sandy cove. It was the whiteness of the sand which had enabled him to pick them up so quickly. The incoming swimmers, blinded by the arc-lights ahead, had evidently not seen him. Soon after his sighting he saw them hesitate, then turn away. As they did so he fired an underwater mortar with a proximity fuse. It burst between the two swimmers, killing them instantly. He was joined soon afterwards by two more Zhukov divers and within minutes of the alarm having been given the bodies of the unidentified swimmers were in the control-room.
‘Strip them,’ ordered Yenev grimly. ‘Examine each item of equipment for its place of origin.’
While Yenev, Milovych and several other officers and men watched, the bodies were stripped. The wetsuits, the skull caps, the goggles, the back-packs, the compressed air cylinders, the breathing apparatus, the buoyancy compensators and air tank regulators, the weight-belts, the underwater cameras, the films in them, the powerful underwater lights, the stainless steel diving knives, the diving watches — every item of equipment was of United States manufacture.
The dead men had been killed by concussion — the hammer effect of the mortar explosion — and their bodies were unmarked. There were no tattoo marks, no artificial dentures… nothing by which they might be identified.
Milovych smiled. ‘Americans of course. They came to photograph the hull underwater. I expect the nose radome and the after blisters were the attractions. Hope they enjoyed their little adventure while it lasted.’
Yenev addressed the executive officer. ‘Maintain state Dobra until further orders, Lomov. There may be other attempts before daylight.’ He turned to Rostoff. ‘You have done well, Rostoff.’
‘Comrade Rostoff,’ suggested Milovych.
Yenev’s stare was too much for Milovych. He looked away. ‘You have done well, Rostoff,’ continued the captain. ‘You showed courage and initiative. You will be recommended for accelerated advancement.’
Rostoff, wetsuit dripping, goggles pulled up over his forehead, looked with disbelief at the dead bodies, the staring sightless eyes, the half grins on the blue-white faces. He was trembling. It was the first time he’d killed a man. ‘Thank you, Captain,’ he said uncertainly. He was thinking, poor bastards — if they’d seen me first, it could have been me.
Yenev spoke to Lomov. ‘I want Krasnov and Gerasov brought off at first light. If these men came from the island they may be able to identify them. Furthermore, what has happened is to be treated as strictly secret. Those responsible for sending these swimmers must never know why they didn’t return.’
Milovych shook his head. ‘The US wouldn’t be so naive as to send men from the island. These swimmers must have come from a submarine or helicopter.’
Yenev said, ‘You may be right, Commissar. We shall see.’ He gave Milovych one of those looks which suggested to Lomov that his captain had detected a bad smell.
The Commodore (Intelligence) re-read the message clipped into the Daisy Chain file. Briggs, in his neat rather small writing, had endorsed it: ‘Most Urgent. From Daffodil, Bodo. 1627Y.’ The commodore read the words of the final sentence slowly, separating each with a deliberate pause. ‘Expect more positive news within twenty four hours.’ He looked up. ‘What exactly does all this mean, Briggs?’
Briggs was well aware that the commodore knew exactly what all that meant. It was the little man’s custom to test him with such ingenuous questions. ‘The alert, sir. Belligerent, Aries and Bluewhale to proceed at once to their stations. Blue whale to be twenty miles north-west of Vrakoy at 0200 tomorrow morning.’
The commodore looked back through recent additions to the file. ‘Belligerent transferred the boffins to Aries last night, I see.’
‘Yes, sir. With their equipment.’
‘I trust so, Briggs.’ The commodore regarded him thoughtfully. ‘It would be rather sad if they’d left it behind.’ Unabashed Briggs said, ‘The transfer went well, sir. Aries cleared upper deck for a nuclear fall-out exercise. The Wessex V winched down McGhee and his lot and they were taken via the mortar and one-nine-nine wells to the laundry.’
‘Which had been evacuated I trust. No Cantonese laundry-men left behind.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Yes what? D’you mean they had been left behind?’
‘No, sir. I mean the laundry had been evacuated. The laundrymen had not been left behind.’
‘Good,’ said the commodore. ‘I’m glad we understand each other.’
‘The quarterdeck aft of the hangar including the mortar and one-nine-nine wells had been put out of bounds to all hands except the flight crew when dispatching or recovering the helicopter. Aries’ captain told the ship’s company over the broadcast that it was for top security reasons. Highly sophisticated ASW weapons undergoing their first sea trials.’
‘Splendid. I always thought the Daisy Chain scenario was rather good. Hope it works as well as it reads.’
‘I’m sure it will, sir.’ Briggs looked rather pleased with himself.
The commodore’s pucklike face gathered itself into a frown. ‘Nothing is sure in these rather dodgy operations, Briggs. Too many imponderables. If you’d been in a war you’d know that. I only hope our chaps have the luck they’re going to need.’