Robert Williams - Ice Fortress

Unless…

“I’m going to do this one with Durand, so watch closely. Then, Durand, Juan and I will keep working toward the bow and do the other two charges.” Jack spoke urgently and paused to catch a breath. “Captain, you and Dave will work aft and do the remaining three charges. Right?”

They all nodded but clearly had no idea what they were supposed to do.

“Durand, get ready to pass another extinguisher when I say.” Jack then began blasting the C4 charge with a jet of CO2 from the extinguisher. As soon as it began to spurt empty, he threw it aside.

“Now!”

Durand pulled the safety pin from an extinguisher and handed it to Jack who continued to blast the scuttle charge until it was white and crystalline.

The timer kept counting down.

“It didn’t work,” squeaked Juan. Sweat dripped from his face.

“OK, you three go.” Jameson and Dave scurried aft cradling arms full of fire extinguishers.

“Durand, Juan, with me, let’s go.” Together the three made their way toward the bow.

“Where is it?” Jack asked Juan.

The man was trembling like a schoolboy after his first kiss and stared blankly at Jack as if he didn’t understand the question.

Jack placed both hands on Juan’s shoulders. “Son, I know this has been a real shitty day for you but it’s not been all that much fun for me, either, but trust me, if you don’t show me where those fucking explosives are, it’s gonna get a whole lot worse. I need you to stay with me and stay focused. Are you with me?”

Juan’s eyes began to focus on Jack. He wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his sleeve and pointed to a rack full of torpedoes in the next compartment.

“Good man, come on, let’s go,” Jack spoke as reassuringly as he could.

The next explosive responded to the CO2 treatment the same as the first. The C4 charge turned white and frosty but the timer continued to count down.

Juan didn’t need to be coaxed, he was already lugging the remaining extinguishers to the third charge by the time they’d finished emptying a second one on the second explosive.

Jack and Durand caught up with him near the torpedo tubes where he stood pointing at a charge stuck to the bulkhead.

The counter counted down.

00:09 .

Jack snatched a fire extinguisher from Juan and directed a blast at the final explosive.

00:06

It ran dry.

00:05

Juan shouldered Jack out of the way and began to empty the contents of their last extinguisher at the C4 charge. His knuckles turned white he squeezed the handle so hard.

00:02

The last extinguisher sputtered.

Empty.

00:01

The three men stared wide eyed at the explosive package, waiting for it to detonate.

A second later, it did.

Countdown to impact: 0.20 minutes.

00:00

The detonator exploded.

The sharp crack and fizzle as the small detonation charge blew sounded ear shattering in the confined space of the torpedo room, but nowhere near as loud as it would have been had the C4 Block Demolition charge not been frozen solid and rendered inert and totally harmless.

“You did it,” Juan slapped Jack on the back.

“No, you did it. Good work,” Jack commended Juan.

Suddenly the deck moved beneath them.

“Did the others not make it?” Juan thought of Dave being blown up and water rushing through a gaping hole in the submarine.

“Relax,” Jack spoke quietly as he listened for the sound of gushing water. “We would have heard the blast. This thing is like a steel drum.”

“It’s the Barracuda. She’s submerging before making way for the tunnel,” Durand clarified.

“Once she hits the open water, the show’s over.” Jack slumped against a torpedo slung in a block and tackle, ready to be loaded and fired at an enemy that hadn’t existed for over 70 years.

There was a beat of resigned silence.

Then Durand’s eyes blazed with excitement and at the same time were met by a similar gleam from Jack eyes.

Juan looked from one man to the other and saw the eagerness on their faces.

Then it also came to Juan in a flash of inspiration.

All three men came to the same absurd and totally boneheaded idea at exactly the same time.

The torpedo slid into the empty torpedo tube with little effort. The entire loading mechanism had been designed for quick reloads in cramped quarters with minimal manpower. German efficiency at its best.

Closing and locking the hatch, Durand wiped his hands on an oily cloth the previous torpedo crew had used many years ago. In different circumstances he might have felt almost nostalgic, but right now there wasn’t time for that.

“Do you know how to fire it?” Jack asked.

“Oh yeah. We studied these in training. The Germans built crap torpedoes but the Siemens torpedo fire control system they developed was real smart. A lot of modern day firing systems are based on these principles. They had what they called the TDC or Torpedo Data Computer to handle the gyro settings, torpedo spread and depth. All good stuff but half their torpedoes didn’t blow when they hit their target. Accurate but not very deadly.”

“Another lesson for those Nazi bastards to take back with them and make good,” Jack hissed.

“Is this one going to work?” asked Juan.

“We’ll soon find out. I just need to figure out the settings and get them dialed into the fire control system.”

“Shouldn’t we ask the captain first?” Juan suggested.

Jack responded, “Son, sometimes it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.”

Durand scanned the dials and gauges clustered around the torpedo tube.

“I think I’ve figured out what we need to do. Lucky we’re berthed bow toward the tunnel. Other way around and we’d be screwed. These boats don’t have torpedo tubes aft.”

Durand turned a valve to open the outer torpedo doors.

“Yeah, well ‘lucky’ isn’t a word that’s on the tip of my tongue today.” Sarcasm laced Jack’s response.

But Durand didn’t hear him, he was too busy turning dials and flipping switches on the fire control panel.

“How do you know where to fire it?” asked Jack.

“I’m guessing, but if we can get it running down that tunnel, it will either hit the sub or the walls. Either way, the shockwave should cripple her at best. At worst, she’ll be sunk.”

“Let’s do it.” Jack’s voice was firm and confident.

Durand slammed the heel of his palm on the fire control and with a hiss of compressed air the torpedo was blasted from the tube and into the water where its electric motors propelled it toward the tunnel.

“How long until it explodes?” asked Juan.

“You ask a lot of questions. You know that, right?” Jack patted the rotund man on the back of the head, like he was rubbing a Buddha for good fortune.