John Avery - Black Cobra

Jason prepared to sail through the entrance to San Diego Bay. "Would you like to take the helm?” he asked Aaron.

"Sure," Aaron said, surprised. Jason had never let him near the wheel this close to shore before. But he was confident he could handle it.

“Pay attention to the channel markers,” Jason said. “Red, right, returning."

Aaron was familiar with the mnemonic and quickly spotted the buoys.

"The nuclear submarine base is on the west side of the channel, and North Island is to the east, to starboard,” Jason said. “These are restricted areas.”

“What happens if we enter a restricted area?” Brandy asked.

“They U.S. Navy will blow us out of the water,” Jason said. "No questions asked."

Brandy's eyes went wide at that thought.

“Duly noted,” Aaron said, and then he carefully guided the Cayman Jewel through the narrow channel entrance to San Diego Bay.

“That’s Naval Air Station North Island to starboard, on Coronado Island. To port is Naval Base Point Loma, one of America's largest and most tactically important nuclear submarine bases. Its facilities include the Fleet Antisubmarine Warfare Training Center, Fleet Combat Training Center Pacific, and Space and Naval Warfare Systems Command, among others.”

Aaron was impressed but disappointed that the awesome submarines were hidden from his view by some kind of huge floats.

“Follow the channel as it turns east,” Jason said. “After Harbor Island, roughly nine nautical miles east of here, we'll jog north again. We’re heading for the A-9 Cruiser Anchorage, for 'out of town' boats like ours. It'll be off your port bow, just south of the U.S. Coast Guard Station, across from the Maritime Museum of San Diego.”

Aaron nodded and took them the rest of the way in.

As they approached the anchorage, they passed the MMSD on their right.

Jason pointed out one of the submarines on exhibit at the museum. "That’s b-39, code name Cobra," he said. “That's why I’m here.”

Brandy looked down at the 284-foot hunk of black iron moored at the dock along side the museum. “We sailed all the way here for that?” she said. The submarine had obviously seen better days and looked very unsafe.

“She’s a former Soviet attack sub,” Jason said. “A Foxtrot-class hunter killer. She’s about to undergo a top to bottom restoration, and I’ve been hired as a technical consultant."

Aaron glanced down at the submarine, hoping to see it close up later. Then he concentrated on his job at the helm, carefully guiding the Cayman Jewel into the anchorage.

Jason tied up at a mooring buoy and joined the others on deck. “Talk about cutting it close,” he said, checking his watch. “It’s 3:45 p.m. I’m scheduled to meet Uri Ruden on board Cobra at 4:00.”

He looked at Aaron. “Captain Ruden is one of the Russian submariners who actually piloted Cobra during the Cold War back in the Seventies. Would you like to meet him and check out the sub?”

“Hell, yeah,” Aaron said.

Jason turned to Brandy. “The mooring office will be expecting us to contact them for an inspection and a permit. Their phone number is up on the chart table. We shouldn't be long.”

Brandy nodded. She was happy to stay behind and relax on deck while the men had their fun.

San Diego Waterfront

Chapter 33

Jason and Aaron lowered the Cayman Jewel’s dinghy, an 18-foot Zodiac inflatable outboard, into the water and motored across the basin to the MMSD. At 4 p.m. sharp, they walked up Cobra’s gangway to meet Uri Ruden.

“Welcome to San Diego,” Uri said, shaking Jason’s hand firmly. “I trust your trip was a pleasurable one.”

Jason hesitated then decided not to mention the pirate attack that almost ended their voyage. “It was a relaxing cruise, thank you. Uneventful.”

He gestured toward Aaron. "Uri, this is my good friend Aaron Quinn. Aaron, meet Captain Third Rank, Uri Ruden, a former Soviet submariner. Uri is here to help whip Cobra into shape.”

Aaron couldn't imagine what Jason meant by “whip Cobra into shape”, as if that were even possible. He stepped forward and shook Ruden’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, Captain,” he said.

“You as well, Mr. Quinn,” Uri said.

"Aaron’s a SCUBA instructor down on Cayman Brac," Jason said. “He’s an accomplished sailor himself and owns his own boat. He crewed for me on our trip up here — very capably, I might add.”

Uri guessed Aaron to be about eighteen. “Captain Pankov’s daughter will be happy to know she won’t be the only person under twenty at the welcome party tonight,” he said.

Jason had heard about the party, but he hadn't planned on having Aaron hanging around while he and his fellow conspirators conducted business. Uri obviously wasn't concerned, though, so he let it go.

“I wasn’t aware that Pankov had a daughter,” he said.

"He does indeed,” Uri said. “She’s his only child, and with her father’s Russian good looks and a beautiful Korean mother, Ekatarina Vtorakevna Pankova isn’t a woman you’ll easily forget.”

Jason and Aaron tried to picture her ethnic blend but couldn't.

Aaron was stoked to be invited to the welcome party. He had no idea who Captain Pankov was, but he would definitely check out the man’s daughter. He liked the way the name Ekatarina rolled off his tongue.

“Are the Pankovs here yet?” Jason asked.

“I believe Ekatarina arrived yesterday,” Uri said. “However, Captain Pankov had last minute business to attend to back in Russia, and he’s due in later tonight. Fagan should be here around 7:00.”

Jason was curious to see Ekatarina’s beautiful Korean mother. “And Pankov’s wife?”

“Mrs. Pankov succumbed to breast cancer four years ago,” Uri said.

“I’m sorry,” Jason said.

Uri knew that Pankov had never fully recovered from the loss of his wife, and that it was one of the reasons the old Captain was losing his mind; but he didn’t mention it.

“Perhaps while we’re waiting we could explore this beautiful, once top-secret combat submarine?” he said, indicating the b-39.

Jason checked his watch. 4:05 p.m. “You’ll have to pardon me, Captain,” he said, “but I have another appointment. Perhaps Aaron would appreciate a tour.”

Uri looked at Aaron expectantly.

“I’d love it,” Aaron said. He had never seen the inside a real submarine before.

“I’ll be back in time for the party,” Jason said and excused himself.

“We’ll begin topside and then go below,” Uri said, “working our way from bow to stern.”

“Sounds good,” Aaron said.

“It takes years of specialized training to understand the operations of an attack sub,” Uri said, “but I’ll try and whittle it down. Let me know if I go too fast, as I wouldn’t want you to get lost during the party.”

Aaron laughed. “That would not be good,” he said. He was serious about meeting Ekatarina.

Uri gestured toward a heavy, flat-steel hoop about 3 feet in diameter mounted vertically on the dock near the gangway. “Do you see that big ring mounted there?” he said.

Aaron nodded.

“That’s a mock-up of one of b-39's watertight hatches, or bulkhead doors. The maritime museum installed it so visitors can see if they can fit through Cobra’s real hatches. They don’t want anyone getting stuck inside their submarine.”

“I hate when that happens,” Aaron said, grinning.

He turned to give the mock-up a try. He had to stoop very low, but he managed to step through easily.