Dominic Conlon - Arctic Firepath

The man coughed. 'Captain, the Chief Engineer…'

'I know what the Chief Engineer said,' snapped Grigori. 'But I am the Captain, and I make the decisions.' He glared at the helmsman. 'Is that clear?'

'Yes Captain.'

Grigori went out to the lookout's post. At this latitude it would not get any lighter. He raised the binoculars again, refocused the lens.

'I knew it,' he muttered to himself. 'It's a damn sub!' He returned to the bridge and picked up the intercom.

'Radio operator. Contact Arctic fleet command. Ask them if we are expecting any of our subs in the area. I need an answer fast — a simple yes or no will do.'

'Yes Captain!'

The captain continued to inspect the object of his curiosity. A minute later, the intercom buzzed. He listened for a moment and replaced the mike in its cradle.

'Increase speed to 18 knots!'

There was a stunned silence on the bridge.

'Did anyone hear my order?'

'Er, sir. Yes sir,' the helmsman responded at last.

Grigori understood what he was thinking. Given the state of the reactor, the Chief Engineer had issued a strong warning not to exceed 14 knots. Grigori calculated the situation demanded immediate action. They might have to stop later to repair the corrosion damage, or even shut down the reactor and start up the second.

Either way, he needed to get close straightaway.

Captain Gerry White clapped his gloved hands together to improve the circulation. A chill wind blew around his position atop the conning tower, but it didn't stop the crew on the ice from enjoying themselves. A group were building a snowman using Brussels sprouts for the eyes and a carrot for the nose, while another party had an energetic snowball fight. Two men at the perimeter patrolled with rifles, providing protection against the odd stray polar bear.

The intercom buzzed, and he picked up the handset.

'Captain, we spotted a Russian icebreaker heading our way. We were told to look out for one in the area. Do you want us to hail him?'

'Distance and direction?'

'Sorry skipper. Distance is just over 5 km. Direction is south-south east.'

Captain White glanced towards the compass point and lifted his binoculars. Bow-on, the ship almost filled the field of view. The hull was painted a deep rust-like red. The vessel had a rhythmic up and down movement as it bullied a path through the icepack.

'No need to Matthew, we'll be able to wave to him in a few minutes. Better warn the crew to keep closer to our boat, in case the ice begins to crack.'

'Yes Captain.'

Grigori handed the binoculars to the lookout. 'Tell me what you see.'

'A conning tower, Captain. It's broken through the ice!'

'Confirm the designation on the side.'

'Ah, wait a minute Captain. SSN-812.'

'Thank you. Please make a note in the log.' Grigori turned and walked back into the bridge. He picked up the mike. 'Engine room, I want maximum engine speed.'

The helmsman stared at the Captain as though he had left his senses. Seconds later the intercom buzzed.

It was the Chief Engineer. 'Captain, I cannot permit this. I told you not to exceed 14 knots!'

'I know, Pytor. I need full speed immediately, whatever the outcome.'

'Grigori, if you do this you will damage the reactor. I cannot be held responsible.'

'I won’t hold you liable Pytor. You may record your objections in the log. But I must have full power!' Grigori waited for a response.

After a long moment, the Chief Engineer replied. 'Very well, but I will be making a report.'

'Do that later — give me the power now.'

Within seconds, the engine beat increased and LK-80 surged forward into the ice.

'Helmsman, another two degrees starboard.'

The Helmsman scrutinised his Captain, weary about speaking out again. Glancing through the bridge window, alarm overcame the need for obedience. 'Sir, may I respectfully suggest we choose another bearing. This course takes us directly to the submarine.'

'Helmsman, I warned you once. If you persist I will put you on a charge and have you replaced.'

The Helmsman's face was white with raw emotion. 'Sir! We are heading straight for an American submarine! You are putting their lives — and our crew's — into danger!'

Grigori's voice took on the quality of steel. 'Steer another two degrees to starboard.'

For a second there was silence in the room.

The Helmsman turned back to the wheel. 'Two degrees to starboard. Yes sir!'

By now the snowball fights had stopped and the crew of the USS Montana stood, all eyes on the ice-breaker smashing its way straight for them. Still about two kilometres away, Captain White could make out details of its superstructure without needing binoculars.

The XO took up a position next to the Captain. 'Sir, I don't think he's going to stop,' he said tentatively.

'You're right, he should have altered course by now. Get the COB to order all the men to return immediately. Prepare for an emergency dive!'

'Yes sir!'

The Captain picked up the intercom. 'Sparks, signal the icebreaker. He is making for us. Tell them to change course. Comms, get someone up here to fire off flares. XO?'

'Yes sir.'

'Go below and make preparations for an emergency dive. As soon as the last man is on board, I want this sub to disappear under the ice. Go!'

The Chief of the Boat used the loudhailer to order the men back to the sub. Captain White watched anxiously as the group began to return. The COB hectored them and the walk turned into a sprint. Sailors started to climb the ladder to the deck.

The Captain glanced at the icebreaker. In that short space of time the distance had closed to just a kilometre. The ship appeared enormous.

The intercom buzzed. 'Sir, we've started to reduce buoyancy, but we think the boat's stuck. We'll need some men to clear the ice around the sail.'

'Right XO. I'll see to it.'

The Captain stopped the line of men waiting to descend through the conning tower hatch.

'I want all of you to form a party and free the ice. Grab pickaxes and shovels.' The Captain saw hesitation in their faces. 'Immediately!'

That last urgent command galvanised the men. They all knew the drill, and the men attacked the ice. A red flare ascended into the sky, burning brightly as it floated down on its parachute. Another one went off, and then another. Captain White peered anxiously at the icebreaker. The vessel was so close he could hear the loud hum of its engines.

To wait any longer would put the working party in danger. But to recall them without freeing the ice might mean the sub wouldn’t escape in time. He shouted through the loudhailer. 'Everyone on board. Leave your tools — get back now!'

The men needed no encouragement, and began clambering up the ladder. The last sailor disappeared down the hatch and the Captain followed. He couldn’t help one final backward glance. Now only 200 metres away, the ship continued to bear down on them.

‘Emergency dive!’

'Sir, the ice is still snagging the conning tower.'

The Captain turned to face his XO. 'The ballast tanks are filling, Thomas. There's nothing more we can do.' When they had first broken through, the sail pushed the ice apart. The same ice had refrozen around the conning tower, jammed between the unbroken ice pack and the steel hull.

There was a loud bang and for a split second the Captain thought the icebreaker had crashed into them. The sub lurched downward, and he gave a sigh of relief. The sound was the boat freeing itself from the clutches of the ice-pack. They were going to be clear.

The sub slowly descended below the ice. But LK-80's keel extended six metres below the surface. The hardened steel of the bow smashed into the conning tower. The submarine shunted sideways as the icebreaker rode up over it, thrusting it towards the sea bed.