“I know they won’t have left the back door open, they’ll have done something to keep out the ROK Navy and us.” said Larry, “But it’s your call, Nathan.”
Nathan looked at Nikki, trying to ignore her blue eyes, and curvy form under the uniform coverall. “Nikki, what do you think?”
“I don’t think we’ll get in. But you never know. Park Dong-Rot doesn’t think so either. He may be overconfident?”
“Park Dong-Rot?”
“It’s a name I’ve heard around the boat Si.. Nathan. Derogatory term for the North Koreans.”
Nathan smiled. “Yeah, well let’s see if we can do it. We’ll have to take it nice and slow.”
THEY RETURNED TO THE control room and Nathan studied the chart. “Get us a course to here Kaminski, mid channel.”
The USS Stonewall Jackson made her way at five knots towards the middle of the eastern channel. She arrived at her start point. Up above the light was fading; another hour should do it, he thought.
“Right, H hour is 18.30.” He knew he’d a good team, on the boat. The COB was a shit-eating Texan, Seamus Cox. Nobody, but nobody, crossed Dick.
XO Larry Sayers was from some hard-knocks part of Chicago, tough and hard but thoughtful with it.
Nikki Kaminski was a Georgian Gal from Macon. She’d look the part, dressed in her finery like her Confederate ancestors, parading through Savannah in a horse-drawn carriage or on a riverboat. But she’d a mind as sharp as a whip. He’d a good team aboard, he knew they’d need one. He looked at his wristwatch. 18.20.
“Control room. Rig for red.” The room was bathed in a dull red light, it would allow his eyes to adjust to the night view in the periscope.
He’d be using the screen in front of him, and night vision viewer in the scope. But, you never knew. Just before H hour, he unhooked the microphone.
“ALL HANDS, ALL HANDS. We are standing just off the eastern entrance to the enemy’s naval base. We’re going to try sneaking in tonight. It’s going to be tough, rig for silent running. We’re here to sink a boat that Uncle Sam wants on the bottom, he asked for us. When you need a hard job doing, you ask for the best and Stonewall Jackson’s the meanest son of a bitch there is. Park Dong-Rot will have his Dong cut off tonight. We’ll push off now. Commander out.”
He looked around at the figures bathed in the dull red light.
“Forward, speed three knots.” She advanced forward slowly, the minutes ticked slowly by.
“Sonar. Requesting coast, Sir.”
“Coast the boat.”
The prop came to a stop. Nathan let him listen.
“Sir, there’s something out there. It’s not a vessel, it’s a faint noise. Like the tide’s running past something. I don’t know what, but it’s not changing.” He knew it could be some obstacle, even some kind of mine. Only one thing for it. He walked aft to the Goat Locker; this was the Chief Petty Officers’ living and socialising space. Nathan knocked and entered.
“CPO Innes, could I have a word outside please?” The two men talked out in the companionway. “We’ve found something out there, or sonar has; we don’t know what it is. Would you like a night swim?”
“Not really, Sir. But seeing as you’ve asked, I’ll do it.”
“Thanks, we’re at a stop. The sail’s at seventy feet. It’ll be black out there.”
“I’ll get started, Sir.”
Innes got his assistant and donned his warm undersuit and then his dry suit. He set up the CIS Lunar rebreather and his assistant helped him put it on. Everything was clipped shut. His assistant double-checked that all valves were set as they should be, then signalled to the COB in the control room.
“Sir, CPO Innes is ready to enter the sail.”
“Tell him to go ahead.”
The COB passed back a thumbs up signal.
The inner hatch opened and Innes climbed in. He closed the hatch and spun the wheel. Water filled the sail, and he switched on a helmet light. He spun the wheel again and lifted the hatch, then Innes pulled himself out into the gloom. He took hold of his line and clipped on to a fixing on the deck, then swam upward out of the hatch, letting the line reel out behind him. Innes took a sighting on the compass, two six five, and finned out into the black emptiness. His gauges read seventy feet, two six five degrees. Nothing but the slight hiss and pop of his valves, just blackness. Fin on. Innes’s world shrank to this. There was nothing else but you, and what you were doing. That was how it had to be. You were alone out there in the black. His gages read seventy feet, two six five degrees. There was only blackness. Nothing but the slight hiss and pop of his valves, just blackness. Finn on.
AFTER A FEW MINUTES, a form appeared out of the darkness, the lower edge of a ship’s walkway, and the hull walls were covered in dead men’s fingers. This was a filter feeder and nothing to do with dead people. The rail rose up. Innes rose and swam over the deck. He was near the bow and swam towards it, then turned and headed for amidships. He made his way down towards the stern across cavernous empty holds. A large Eel surprised him at one point as it snaked its way by him, its two large blue eyes watching his odd form. There, at the stern, was the superstructure, projecting up one hundred feet or so. It was time to return. He reeled the cable in following a reciprocal bearing eighty five degrees. Nothing but the slight hiss and pop of his valves, just blackness. Fin on.
THEN, THERE SHE WAS, the Jackson. He lowered himself into the sail, down the hatch, closed and spun the wheel. He knocked with a hammer he carried on the lower hatch three times twice. The knocks came back. The sail drained slowly. The lower hatch was opened, so he handed down the rebreather and climbed down to the deck. Innes removed his mask and hood and walked forward into the control room.
“Ah, CPO Innes, what did you find?” asked Nathan.
“Sir, it’s a blockship, a coaster. Maybe two thousand tons.”
Nathan nodded. “Could you ready your rebreather set? I’m afraid we may need you again tonight.”
“Yes, Sir. Could I take a hot shower? A Walrus would shiver out there. My balls are about to desert my body.”
Nathan smiled. “Yes of course.” He raised the scope and did a 360. “Kaminski. Access the scope’s 360 and plot the block ship’s position. Planesman, come to south at four knots and turn west for another run in.” There were no nets, the enemy was using blockships to prevent access. Unless they met a wall of them, they might still get in.
Innes got three more swims that night, and the chart filled up with four charted positions of block ships. Nathan looked carefully at Innes after the fourth dive. The man was visibly shivering and pale with exhaustion. He’d taken it as far as it would go.
“Get your hot shower and whatever the galley can give you, then get to your bunk and sleep. The COB will see your duties are attended to. Well done CPO Innes, thanks.”
NATHAN WALKED OVER to the chart. “Now, how far until the end of this lot, Kaminski?”
“At the latest, they must end on this line, but that means twice the distance we’ve penetrated so far. Sir. My guess is less than that, but we’re still halfway in or less.” She turned to look at him with those bottomless blue eyes, which had a faint hint of a playful smile about them. “Are you trying to go all the way in?”
What? Was she flirting?
He tried not to smile. “I’ll try.”
A scraping sound came from the sail.
“All stop. Engage reverse. Nice and slow. Sonar?”
“I think it came from the sail’s fore planes, Sir. Sounded like a cable running over one.”
He’d been dreading this. After a fire aboard it was the submarine’s greatest fear.
“I think we just snagged a tethered mine. Pulled it down towards us. Weaps, what do we have on PRKN mines?”