Iris Johansen - Silent Thunder

Hannah tore off a piece of the chewing gum in her mouth. She affixed it to the magnet and stuck it to the compass housing. "Are we still okay?"

"It's drifting."

"That's because we're moving. I'll make more adjustments after I get the latitude. Ready?"

Kirov was silent for a moment. "Make it fast, Hannah. Pavski and his men have a boat. They're approaching from the stern."

The salt water sprayed Pavski's face as the powerboat neared the Silent Thunder . He pointed to the conning tower. "Watch up there," he shouted over the engines. "If we're going to be fired on, it'll be from the tower."

Koppel turned from the wheel. "Where should we approach?"

"At the stern. There are cleats to tie off there. We'll climb on top, plant the charges, and blow the rear escape hatch. Got it?"

Koppel nodded, staring ahead at the dark leviathan cutting through the water. "It's amazing."

"What?"

"There's still life in that old sub. I didn't know she had it in her."

"It's a relic," Pavski said. "Just like Kirov."

Koppel eased back on the throttle as they pulled alongside the Silent Thunder 's massive tail fins. The sub's engine knocked and rattled, and the pungent smoke of burned diesel fuel wafted over them.

"Take the rope and snag one of those cleats."

It took two tries, but one of the sailors managed to do it.

"Good!" Pavski yelled over the engine. "Pull us closer."

A moment later they were bumping against the hull and tying off the rope.

Pavski picked up his two backpacks and tossed them onto the Silent Thunder 's topside deck.

"The three of you climb aboard," Koppel said. "I'll keep the boat steady."

Pavski shot him a cold glance. "I need you in there too, Koppel."

"After you're on, I'll cut the engines and climb aboard myself. Go!"

As they left the relatively calm waters of the harbor, Pavski and the others jumped from the boat and used a series of small crevices in the Silent Thunder 's rubbery acoustic coating to pull themselves up to the top deck. "Careful. The seas are getting rougher."

Koppel cut the powerboat's ignition and climbed up to join them. "Aren't the hatches stronger than the rest of the sub?" he shouted.

Pavski was already digging into his knapsack for the explosive charges. "Trust me, two of these charges on the devices on the rear hatch will put us face-to-face with Kirov in less than five minutes."

Hannah wiped the sweat from her eyes as she adjusted the magnets again. Dammit, she couldn't manipulate the compass to read the correct longitude and latitude simultaneously.

"Give it up," Kirov said over the radio. "It was always a long shot."

" I can't give it up. Pavski's not going to get that cradle. If I can just move it another few degrees…"

"We're out of time. Pavski and his men will be charging down the corridor at any moment. I have to be ready for them. I can't focus on this any longer."

"Keep your eyes on that monitor. Where's the compass at?"

"The longitude is still three degrees shy. Forget it."

"Please. Just another few seconds."

"We don't have any seconds to spare. You're through."

"What about now?"

"Hannah, stop it. We need to-"

Kirov's voice went silent.

Hannah held the magnets in place, not daring to breathe. "Hello?"

Kirov's voice finally broke the silence. "Good God."

Kirov stared at the navigational computer's amber screen. One moment, Hannah's generated 41.5 degrees longitude/112 degrees latitude had filled the screen, in the next an entirely different set of coordinates popped up: 32.4° E Longitude 44.1° N Latitude .

Hannah, you're a goddamn miracle.

"We've got it!" he said into the microphone. "It looks like it's in the Black Sea. I'll write it down."

"Hurry. It may disappear once we drift off the coordinates."

He scribbled the figures on one of Hannah's discarded chewing gum wrappers. "Got it. Meet me in the forward torpedo room, Hannah."

"Why?"

"Change of plans. And if you get there before I do, get yourself into an MK10."

She was silent, but he could sense the shock that went through her.

"Do it, Hannah. No arguments. You're support, not command right now."

"MK10. Are you sure about this?"

"It's the only way. I'll see you down there."

Kirov turned back to the computer and kicked it repeatedly, smashing the console with his left heel. Sparks flew, and the monitor went dark.

MK10.

Dear God in heaven.

Hannah ran into the forward torpedo room, where the earsplitting alarm was even louder than it had been at the compass module. She opened a supply locker, where eight MK10 submarine escape-and-immersion suits hung. They probably hadn't been touched since a drill years before.

She knew that the British-made MK10s were standard-issue equipment in almost every submarine fleet in the world, but she hadn't been aware the Russians used them until her first visit aboard Silent Thunder . They had never been extensively used in crisis situations. The bulky, padded outfits were created for one purpose: for emergency deep sea escapes, commonly through a hatch. In extreme situations the wearer could climb into a firing tube and be shot out like a torpedo. It had always seemed to be an absurd notion to Hannah, since extreme depths would kill its wearer anyway, and in shallower waters there were far safer alternatives to evacuating a submarine.

Except maybe this time, this place.

She slid into the salt-encrusted suit and fastened the buckles at her waist, wrist, and ankles. If only Conner could see her now. He'd love this.

Kirov jumped through the hatch. "Hurry, Hannah. Put on the helmet and climb into the tube headfirst."

"What about Pavski?"

"Pavski will be taken care of."

She looked down to see that Kirov was holding his canvas bag, the one in which he'd carried Niler's explosives.

It was now empty.

She stared at Kirov as realization dawned. "You booby-trapped the sub."

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Where it will do the most damage."

"The aft fuel tanks?"

He nodded. "Being a museum piece wouldn't suit Silent Thunder . She'll like going down in a blaze of glory."

"How soon?"

"She only has a few more minutes to live."

"Like anyone who's still in here when those charges detonate."

Kirov motioned toward the open torpedo chamber. "Quickly. Pavski may already be inside the sub."

"We haven't tested the torpedo tubes. They may not even fire anymore. They might just fill with water and drown us."

"That's why you have to go first."

"Are you joking?"

"If there's a malfunction, I need to be here to pull you out." He took the helmet and opened the latches. "It looks like I'm only your support team once again."

"It's too risky. These things were finicky even in the best of circumstances."

"You'll be fine." He smiled. "Remember what I told you about the Silent Thunder having a soul?"

"You mean that bit about her coming through whenever you needed her most," she said unevenly.

"Yes. She's not about to let us down now."

"You'll be right behind me?"

"There's a trigger switch inside the tube. Once you're away, I'll go myself."

She stiffened as a sudden memory of the nightmares he had told her about came back to her. "You're lying."

"Hurry, Hannah."

"No." She stepped back. "You're planning to go down with your ship, you crazy Russian."

"There isn't time for this."

"This is insane. However you feel about the Silent Thunder 's socalled soul…"

"I didn't say I was-"

"You've served her well, Kirov," she said desperately. "Now let her go."

"We're out of time."

Kirov slammed her against the bulkhead and dropped the helmet over her head. As she struggled to break free, he fastened the latches.