Cameron Poe: Red Agenda

“Shit! Abort drop! Ready missiles, fire!” A flip of some switches, and a sparrow released from the side racks and burst out ahead and up. It quickly chased the loping missile into the clouds and out of sight. The sparrow would cover five miles before it caught the slower Russian projectile and exploded, driving its nose directly into its solid rocket booster. It would be another three minutes before the debris would fall safely into the ocean from the sky.

Not knowing what would be the end result of the missile, Kyle returned his attention to the sub. It was gone. He felt like he had taken his eyes off it for only a second, but it was a second too long. “I don’t fucking believe it.”

“Drop a fish, skipper,” remarked his copilot. “He can’t be that far down.”

“Shit!” replied Kyle. “No. I don’t think he saw us. If we drop, it might alert him to the others. The best hope now might be to see if he’ll come up again. Radio the Toledo and tell them what we found. Maybe someone close by has a chance of getting a good lock on her.”

Being prudent was what Kyle thought he was doing. It was a long shot that the sub would surface again, but he didn’t want to waste his torpedoes on a ghost somewhere under the water. To him, the chase wasn’t over.

“Well, I’ve lost her,” said Josh as he closed down ODIS and strapped in. “She went too deep.”

Jim heard it from the conn. “Anyone else got a lock? Sonar got anything?”

“Sorry, Cap,” replied Bumper over the speaker. “Sonar lost her right after he released countermeasures.”

Mikhail finally emerged from beneath. “Did we hit her?” There was no tone of hopefulness about his language. He remembered full well that his grandson was aboard that ship.

Hickman motioned him over. “No. Tell me, any suggestion what this guy might do?”

Somewhat relieved, Mikhail offered his assistance. “Let me see a floor map.”

Scanning through a computer monitor, he enlarged a topo map of the area where they were swimming. It had rolling hills and valleys that ended abruptly at a gigantic rupture in the seafloor. It was a rupture in the earth’s crust so wide that its span went off the monitor. It was so deep that cartographers weren’t sure of the actual depth. It was also the obvious place to run.

Mikhail smiled. “What do you think, my friend?”

Jim didn’t answer him. Instead he turned to Lincoln. “Come about course one-two-nine.”

“One-two-nine, aye.”

“Do you think he’ll run?”

Mikhail shrugged. “It’s hard to say. I think it would matter only if he’s accomplished his mission.”

Jim exhaled sharply. “Load all tubes.”

You could breathe the tension in the Saratov . Everyone was attuned to his position, and there was very little talking. Nicholas stood at the back of the bridge and watched as Andri guided his ship quietly across the bottom of the seafloor to the safety of the underwater canyon. They all understood that they were very close to death. Marina still hadn’t shown her face, and the others ignored Nick.

“We are over the crevasse, Captain,” radioed the sonar room.

Andri had been breathing shallow, and he let a sigh of relief. “Good. Take us to nine hundred meters then come round to two-six-five and hold.”

The ship dipped gracefully and slipped easily into the depths. As she dove, the rudder man executed the turn and brought the bow around. The Saratov came to a rest and held her position.

“Load tubes one and two.”

“One and two loaded” came the reply. The next order was nerve-racking for Andri. It was an order that could quickly send them to their graves. “Flood both tubes.”

The ship was so quiet that the slight sound of the tubes filling with water pulsed within the sub. It also was a sound that carried very well through the water and would be recognizable to any good sonar operator.

Andri waited. He waited for the enemy to lock on to the origin of the sound and fire. He had gambled that his adversary had not followed him down yet, and he was right. The flooding sound amplified in the water, bounced into the wall of the canyon, and dissipated. It moved up but became distorted and unrecognizable in the distance it traveled. He had gambled correctly for the moment.

“Coming upon the fissure, Cap,” Bumper said.

“All stop,” ordered Jim. Something wasn’t right. Gliding over the top of the cliff was too easy and too dangerous. It was like opening a door and finding a man pulling the trigger of his gun. He knew that if that was where the Saratov lurked, he’d be in a fighting posture. Any good captain would use the canyon to gain the advantage, and Andri seemed like a good captain. To sail over it meant almost certain death for the War Eagle .

“He’s down there, you know,” Mikhail reminded him while he paused.

“I know where he is. I don’t know how he is.” Jim ran every scenario over in his head. “He’s waiting, and he’s ready for us.”

“Wait. Wait him out.”

“I can’t,” replied Jim. “He could sneak away. We’ve got to go in and stop him now. If he gets away, who knows where he’ll fire next.” He paused for a moment and then flipped on the computerized map. “You know what, though? We don’t have to go in right here. Linc!”

“Yeah, boss,” Lincoln replied as he joined them at the computer station.

“Linc. Take the War Eagle right along the edge of this cliff.” Jim pointed out the path. “After two miles, give me a hard-right rudder and cut the power plant. We’ll drop nice and quiet into this canyon and try to join our friend without him knowing.”

“Aye, Cap.” Lincoln trotted out to execute the order.

“How close do you want to get?” asked Mikhail.

“I’m not worried about getting close, Mik. Getting close is easy. We’ve done that. I just don’t want to get my tail shot off before we create the chance to engage.”

It took twenty minutes slowly to travel the two miles. When they came to the drop-off point, Lincoln signaled Jim, and the order was carried. The helmsman turned hard right, and the screw stopped. The War Eagle swung over the ledge and began her descent into the fissure. It was soft and quiet as they effortlessly slid farther down. Jim waited for Bumper to signal anything. Anything that might tell them if they were found out.

“Hold at three thousand.”

“Three thousand, aye.”

They all waited. It was that time in every crew member’s career when he realized why he was really being paid.

Now was the game. Both ships were in the chasm, and neither wanted to make a move. It was like fighting in a room with no lights. The first to make a mistake would die.

There was an uneasy feeling within the sub. Nicholas quietly roamed, looking for Marina, wanting an explanation.

He couldn’t find her. He looked forward, aft, and on either deck; Marina had vanished. Could she have gotten off? No, Nick concluded. He made one more trip to her berth, and then it hit him. Quietly he went to the rescue pod and unlatched the small hatch. He didn’t dare enter. “Marina? Marina, are you in there?”

“Nicholas?” was the response from a soft voice.

“It’s okay. It’s me.”

“Nicholas, I’m afraid. They will kill me now.”