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The Radioman of the Watch’s voice crackled from the overhead speaker: “CONN, RADIO, WE HAVE AN ELF TRANSMISSION COMING IN ON THE LOOP ANTENNA … WILL ADVISE.”

“OOD, you have the Conn,” Duckett said, moving into the radio room. He was gone for six minutes.

“What is it, sir?”

“We’re ordered to periscope depth. Get us up quick, no baffle clearing.”

“Aye aye, sir. Helm, all stop. Dive, make your depth five four feet, ten degree up bubble. Sonar, Conn, ascending to PD. Lookaround number-two scope. Helm, all ahead one-third.” The OOD raised the type-18 periscope and the Allentown’s deck inclined as she ascended to periscope depth. The young lieutenant rotated the periscope in circles, his body hugging the deck-to-overhead periscope and optic module, his pelvis pressed up against the optic module, dancing with the fat lady. Duckett leaned against the pole of the attack-periscope, the installed spare.

Finally the radioman brought in the message board with the flash message. The first paragraph nearly made Duckett’s heart come full stop. 120 nuclear-attack subs heading for the coast? Jesus, Joseph and Mary. Duckett read on to the paragraph directing Allentown north to Warplan Station Number One, directly offshore from Severomorsk Naval Complex in Russian waters. With cruise missiles armed and ready…

“Offsa’deck,” Duckett called, “muster the officers in the wardroom for an urgent brief. And send down the SIOP WARPLAN.”

The OOD’s eyes widened. ‘The warplan, sir?”

“That’s right. Lieutenant. You got a problem with that?”

“No, sir. SIOP WARPLAN, coming up, sir.”

Good for him, Duckett thought. Because he sure as hell had one.

NORTH ATLANTIC

The Devilfish, responding to orders, rolled in the long swells at periscope depth. Pacino stood at the number-two periscope, doing slow circles, unable to see much but the mountains of the waves crashing over his view as the storm raged above the ship. Every few minutes he prodded the OOD for the status of the satellite radio transmission. They’d lost it the first time as a wave splashed over the BIGMOUTH radio antenna sticking out through the waves. The submarines could get a broadcast-burst communication only on the quarter-hour. Since they missed it once, it would mean staying at periscope depth for another fifteen minutes. And even then another wave might drown out that burst transmission.

Pacino called to the OOD without removing his eyes from the periscope, “Off sa’deck, hit the satellite and get the broadcast onboard.”

“But, sir,” Stokes said, “if we transmit to the satellite to request our messages we could be detected. It may be a burst comm but the Russians got receivers with direction finders.”

Pacino shook his head. “You think we’ve been stealthy this run yet? We’ve gone through a thousand miles at flank with the reactor main coolant pumps at fast speed. And now we’re sitting here with two telephone poles sticking out of the sea just waiting for someone to eyeball us. Hit the god damned satellite, get the broadcast onboard and let’s get deep where we belong.”

“Aye, sir,” Stokes said tonelessly. “Radio, Conn, hit the satellite.” Stokes reached for the radar-wave-receiver volume-knob on the phone console in time to squelch the screech of the ship’s transmission. The receiver made noises, mostly boops and beeps when enemy radar beams hit the periscope. It also detected the BIGMOUTH transmitting. Same frequency range. The speaker in the overhead squawked as hydraulics thumped, indicating the lowering of the BIGMOUTH antenna by the radioman.

“CONN, RADIO, BROADCAST ONBOARD, PRINTING OUT NOW, LOWERING THE BIGMOUTH.”

“Take her deep,” Pacino immediately ordered.

“Diving Officer,” Stokes drawled, “make your depth five four six feet, thirty degree down angle. And step on it.” The next mountainous wave splashed against Pacino’s periscope-view, and for a few moments he looked at the underside of the waves, training the periscope-view upward as the waves grew distant overhead. Finally all was dark.

“Scope’s under,” Pacino called, rotating the hydraulic control ring. “Lowering number-two scope.” The periscope optic module vanished into the well and continued down until it reached the stop 30 feet below. Pacino watched the depth gage as the hull popped and cracked. By the time it reached 546 feet the speed indicator had climbed to 34 knots and the deck began its vibration. Pacino went back to the navigation plot to see how the NAVSAT fix came in. As he studied the chart, wishing the distance to the ice would melt away. Radioman Gerald handed him the metal message board and the top-secret log.

“Flash traffic, sir. Top secret.” Pacino signed for the messages, opened the clipboard cover and read the message that had been urgent enough to call Devilfish up from her deep transit.

****************

FLASH

****************

150354ZDEC

FLASH FLASH FLASH FLASH FLASH FLASH FLASH FLASH

FM— COMSUBLANT NORFOLK VA

TO— USS DEVILFISH SSN-666

SUBJ— MISSION REDEFINITION REF— COMSUBLANT OPORD 54-0964A DATED 13 DEC

SCI/TOP SECRET — THUNDERBOLT PERSONAL FOR CO// PERSONAL FOR CO// PERSONAL FOR CO

BT//

1. NEW INTELLIGENCE HAS DETECTED DEPLOYMENT OF ALL NORTHERN FLEET ATTACK-SUBMARINE UNITS FROM BASES ON NORTHERN RUSSIA COAST. SORTIE OF OVER ONE HUNDRED ATTACK SUBMARINES OUTCHOPPING THE BARENTS SEA TO THE GI-UK GAP. SPEED OF ADVANCE HIGH. VECTOR ANALYSIS INDICATES PROBABLE DESTINATION U.S. EAST COAST. OMEGA UNIT ONE MAY BE LINKED TO THIS DEPLOYMENT. AS YET ANALYSTS UNABLE TO VERIFY SUCH A LINKAGE.

2. OMEGA UNIT ONE DETECTED. ITS POSITION DEEMED RELIABLE AT COORDINATE ALPHA TWO ONE DECIMAL TWO TACK FIVE THREE DECIMAL SIX, CHART Z-SUBONE.

3. UNIT SURFACED AT POLYNYA WITH ONE ANTENNA UP. NO RADIO TRANSMISSIONS DETECTED. POSSIBLY UNIT IS LISTENING AND IS NOT TRANSMITTING YET.

4. DEVILFISH ORDERS REDEFINED. DETERMINE POSSIBLE HOSTILE INTENT OF OMEGA SUBMARINE AND DETERMINE ANY LINKAGE TO ATTACK-SUBMARINE FLEET HEADING TOWARD U.S. COAST. SUBLANT RULES OF ENGAGEMENT NO LONGER APPLY. DEVILFISH ORDERED TO TEST OMEGA UNIT USING ALL METHODS SHORT OF ACTUAL WEAPON RELEASE. DEVILFISH COMMANDER AUTHORIZED TO USE ALL REPEAT ALL INITIATIVE IN THIS ENDEAVOR.

5. FURTHER INTELLIGENCE WILL BE RELAYED AS IT IS RECEIVED HERE.

6. GOOD LUCK AND GOOD HUNTING, MIKEY. 7. ADM. R. DONCHEZ SENDS.

BT//

For the first time in a long time Pacino allowed a smile. The question of how to get the crew to engage the OMEGA had just been answered. Fleet deployment that intelligence didn’t foresee.. Perfect sanction for his confrontation with the OMEGA.

“Officer of the Deck,” Pacino called, “change course to zero four five. Get the XO and Navigator up here now.”

As Pacino waited, doubt crept into his mind. Could the deployment info be for real? Why would Novskoyy be surfaced in the first place? He pushed away the thought and concentrated on his confrontation with Novskoyy. He could approach the OMEGA while it was surfaced at the polynya, hover beneath and do a vertical surfacing… but instead of breaking through the ice hit the OMEGA. But if the OMEGA had its engines shut down it might take an hour for it to get under way from the polynya. And the OMEGA, quiet even in open ocean, would be quieter than the ice around her if her engines were not running. So he might never find her at the polynya. And a sub that big could take a helluva wallop without being damaged. To wake her up would take a crash violent enough to damage Devilfish herself… Was this mission survivable?