Wilson said, ‘I hadn’t forgotten. Just taking a breather.’ There was a knock on the cabin door.
‘Come in,’ called McGhee. It was the captain’s steward with coffee and sandwiches.
‘Marvellous,’ said Curtis. ‘Best thing we’ve seen for a long time.’
The steward put the tray on the table, began to arrange the cups. ‘Don’t worry,’ said McGhee. ‘We’ll manage.’
When the steward had gone McGhee locked the door. Wilson picked up the recorder, slid the control to ‘speak’, counted aloud to ten, played it back and adjusted for volume. ‘Put me right as I go, if you don’t agree.’
He began to dictate.
TOP SECRET MEMORANDUM
Ref: BMS/USSR/Delta Two 13 October 1974
Summary of information given by Lieutenant Ivan Krasnov, sonar and torpedo officer, BMS Zhukov, Soviet Navy.
1. Main armament comprises sixteen SSM-SSN9 (MK II) ballistic missiles, first in service in any unit of the Soviet Navy. Range 4600 miles as against 2250 of its Sawfly predecessors, and 2880 of US Navy’s Poseidon.
2. The SSN9 (MK II) is armed with MARV nuclear warheads, each containing twelve units capable of independent targeting and manoeuvring.
3. The prominent extension abaft Zhukov’s fin, approximately twelve metres in length, houses two lineal batteries of defensive missiles. This armament is known in the ship as the ‘secondary missile system’. It comprises twenty solid fuel Mach 4 cruise missiles, each of which can be used against surface-to-air and subsurface-to-surface targets at ranges of up to 250 miles.
All missiles are fitted with heat, sound seeking and radar homing devices.
The Delta Twos, known in the Soviet Navy as the Marshall Class, are the first BMS afloat to be equipped with defensive missile systems.
4. The twin blisters which extend over the last fifteen metres of Zhukov’s length and terminate either side of the tail stabilizer fin and upper radar comprise two launching tubes. These contain a new weapon, known in the Soviet Navy as a Nuclear Sonar Drone.
I. Two drones are carried, one in each tube. Approximate dimensions are, length 12.5 metres, diameter 2.75 metres. The drones are unmanned. Propulsion is by super-conductivity motors driving hydrojets. Maximum underwater speed 35 knots. Expulsion from the launching tubes is by compressed air.
II. Once launched they are controlled by the mother-ship by sonar signals up to a range of 35 miles. Alternatively, if both mother-ship and drone use surface antennae, they can be radio-controlled up to ranges of 150 miles. Finally, their onboard computer can be programmed to operate the drone independently up to ranges of a high order Lieutenant Krasnov believes that 500 miles has been achieved experimentally. The Soviet Navy apparently does not regard the drone as having a sound tactical application at such long ranges. It has been designed primarily for use under direct control of the mother ship.
III. On completion of its mission a drone can be recovered by the mother-ship while submerged. This is accomplished by means of hydraulically-operated tail-grabs in conjunction with closed circuit television. Fouling of the propeller and the upper rudder unit is precluded by built-in propeller guards and by locking the upper rudder unit during launching and recovering. At such times the lower rudder unit works independently.
5. A drone has three tactical applications:
I. The bow contains a radome, immediately abaft it a conventional scaled down sonar system. By means of sonar re-diffusion the drone is able to relay signals to and from the mother-ship, extending the latter’s sonar range from 45 to 70 miles.
II. Abaft the sonar compartment there is a tactical nuclear warhead. The drone can be directed on to a surface or subsurface target by the mother-ship, or home on to such targets by means of heat and sound seeking devices.
III. The drone can be used as a sonar decoy and as a decoy for heat and sound seeking devices.
Comment
The above summary suggests that the Soviet Navy’s Marshall class submarines are considerably in advance of their United States counterparts. The detailed technological information obtained from Lieutenant Krasnov — necessarily not given in this summary but now in possession of the undersigned — should ensure that the time lag involved before parity is achieved will be reduced substantially.
W. W. Wilson Signed: G. W. A. Curtis P. L. Grogan
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
‘Marvellous.’ Tanya leant back in the chair holding the mug of coffee with both hands. ‘I need this.’
Liang Hui finished a sandwich, looked at his watch. ‘It’s ten to six. He’s had seven hours of sleep.’
‘Shouldn’t we wake him? Give him something to eat? He can rest again later. He’s got a bad twenty-four hours ahead. Hasn’t had anything since he came on board.’
‘Don’t suppose we’d have much appetite in his shoes.’
‘No, we wouldn’t.’ She said it with fierce conviction.
‘I’ll see how he’s getting on.’ He switched off the white deckhead light leaving the solitary red light to bathe the laundry in semi-darkness. He picked up the black hood, patted his shoulder-holster, went to the after end of the laundry and unlocked the storeroom door. Once inside he switched on the light, shutting the door behind him.
Krasnov lay under a blanket on the stretcher. As the door clanked to, he stirred uneasily, muttered something, then propped himself up on his elbows.
Liang Hui said, ‘Feeling all right?’
The Russian yawned, rubbed his eyes, ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Don’t know. Just woken up.’
He got to his feet clumsily, stretched and yawned again. He was wearing the blue denim trousers, but had taken off the sweater and plimsolls.
‘Like something to eat? Sandwiches and coffee?’ Krasnov stared at his questioner.
‘No. Only water.’
‘Of course. Put your things on and we’ll get some.’
The Russian pulled on a jersey, leant awkwardly against the bulkhead, standing first on one foot then the other as he put on the plimsolls.
Liang Hui said, ‘Sorry. We’ll have to hood you again.’
‘Not more interrogation?’ The Russian’s eyes and voice combined in an urgent plea.
‘No. That’s finished.’ Liang Hui slipped the hood over the Soviet lieutenant’s head, secured the chain girdle under his chin and locked it. Taking his hand he led the Russian to the fore part of the laundry and settled him in the interrogation chair.
‘We’re not binding your feet or ankles,’ he said. ‘But don’t leave the chair without permission.’
Krasnov drank the water Tanya gave him.
‘Sure you wouldn’t like a sandwich? Some hot coffee?’ she said.
‘No.’ He was abrupt. ‘Water is enough.’
In the dim red gloom she shook her head, looked anxiously at her brother. He nodded and said, ‘We’ve good news for you, Krasnov. We’re putting you ashore tonight.’
‘Where?’ The Russian was at once suspicious.
‘On a Norwegian island, Rebbensoy. Within a hundred miles of Vrakoy. You’ll be landed in a small cove. At daylight you can walk to the nearby fishing village. About three kilometres. Within a short time you’ll be with your comrades. Back in your ship.’
Krasnov’s only response was to intersperse deep breathing with sighs and shakings of the head. ‘I don’t want to be landed on Norwegian soil,’ he said at last.
‘Why?’
‘It’s not safe. Too close to my country. The Norwegians fear the Soviet Union. They will hand me over.’