Larry Bond - Cold Choices

The temptation to look down was overwhelming. She wanted to know how far she had to go, even though she’d seen it from the helicopter and the pilot had told them it would be about fifty feet. Rather than look down, she looked up, at the helicopter’s fuselage receding, and the dark disk of the rotor blades. The cold rotor wash buffeted her face, and she welcomed it.

She kept her head titled back until she could hear voices below her, and she looked down to see she was almost there, only fifteen, then ten feet off the deck. One sailor had a long pole that looked like a shepherd’s staff, reaching out for her.

Sailors in safety harnesses stood by to steady her, but she kept her feet. They quickly unbuckled her, then guided her toward a hatch behind the sail. Another sailor inside, at the foot of the ladder, greeted her and led her to the crew’s mess. As sailors helped her out of her exposure suit, her two companions, Ken Bover and Arne Lindstrom, were escorted in.

Lindstrom efficiently peeled off his suit with almost no help, but Bover seemed unable to work the fastenings. He bubbled with excitement as Seawolf’s crewmen helped. “I can’t believe we just did that! I wish someone had taken a photo! Why didn’t someone have a camera? My daughter will never believe me.”

A lieutenant commander appeared and introduced himself as “Marcus Shimko, Seawolf’s XO.” After introductions, he said, “Don’t worry, Mr. Bover, we’ll testify on your behalf. By the way, you’re all out of uniform.” Handing each of them a dark blue ball cap inscribed with Seawolf’s name and crest, he asked, “Please follow me. We’ve got breakfast waiting in the wardroom.”

Patterson followed the XO, with her two companions behind, up to the wardroom. It appeared that almost all of Seawolf’s officers were gathered to welcome them, and Shimko began the introductions. Captain Rudel, Lieutenant Commander Lavoie, and.

“Jerry!” she shouted, and found herself hugging him, surrounded by a crowd of attentive, very curious, but silent officers. Seeing her old shipmate sent emotions cascading through her. There was relief, but then concern, no, more than concern. “I was worried, and I’m so sorry, and it’s so good to see you after everything.. ”

She paused, and then let Shimko complete the introductions. When he finished, about half the officers turned to leave, to make room for the rest, but she spoke up.

“Please wait.” When they had all turned back to face her, Patterson said, “I have a message from the President. He is deeply sorry for Petty Officer Rountree’s death and the injuries to your crew. Captain Rudel, he wants you to know that he believes you and your crew have acted in the best interests of the United States and Russia since the collision. You have his full support.”

She hated to rush through what had obviously been planned as a formal meal. Fresh-baked cinnamon buns beckoned, but she settled for fruit. It was best to eat lightly. This would be a long day.

It was a working breakfast, with different officers assisting each of Patterson’s group. Ken Bover would be working with Chandler on the repairs to the sub’s radios and other systems, Lindstrom would talk to Wolfe and Palmer about the UUVs and what they had seen, and she would brief Rudel.

But first, they all wanted to see the forward bulkhead. She’d already inspected the photos that Rudel had sent back on the helicopter, both of the external damage and the interior.

The reality was so different, she wondered if she’d looked at the right photographs. The charring and the scars from the welds to support the shoring were the last thing she’d wanted to see aboard a nuclear sub.

It was crowded with four people in the small compartment. Only Jerry, responsible for the electronics equipment space, had accompanied them inside. She turned to make sure Bover and Lindstrom could both see clearly. Evidently they could, Bover was pale, almost ashen, his eyes as wide as saucer plates. Lindstrom looked better, but was muttering softly in Norwegian. It could have been a prayer or a curse, but he wasn’t pleased by what he saw.

Jerry answered a few questions, but Patterson asked them more to break the quiet than anything else.

Jerry had been surprised and more than a little embarrassed by Patterson’s sudden affection, but he was glad to see her. She was not only an old friend, but represented the help they desperately needed, both for their own sake, as well as Petrov’s crew.

He was glad to leave the electronics equipment space. Chandler’s men needed to get back to work. Back in the wardroom, the group was supposed to split up. Lindstrom did leave with Wolfe, headed for the torpedo room, but Bover asked to speak with both Patterson and Captain Rudel immediately. Jerry, Chandler, Shimko, and the others all listened.

“Captain Rudel, Dr. Patterson, this sub has to head for the nearest port immediately. I do not understand how you’re still afloat, but Seawolf is not seaworthy. She should head south immediately, on the surface.” Bover was intense, agitated. Jerry thought he was frightened as well.

Chandler started to speak, and looked like he was going to agree with Bover, but Rudel answered first. “ Seawolf is tougher than she looks, Mr. Bover. We’ve submerged, weathered a storm, and we’re not done with what we have to do here.” There was firmness in the last phrase, more than Jerry had heard from the captain since the collision.

“Captain, it may be your boat, but I repair ships and subs for a living. Your pressure hull has sustained significant damage. I don’t know of any boat that has taken damage like this that wasn’t immediately put into a dry-dock. Seawolf needs emergency repairs at the nearest port.”

The tension in the wardroom grew as Rudel and Bover argued over Seawolf’s condition. Patterson looked at both men. Bover was shaking and upset, resolute in his professional assessment. Rudel seemed calm, confident, and just as determined. She was about to say something to defuse the situation, when out of the blue Shimko quipped, “It’s just a flesh wound.”

Jerry and the other officers struggled to not burst out laughing. A couple did cough to release the built-up pressure. Rudel and Patterson were dumbfounded, caught completely off guard by Shimko’s off-the-wall remark. Rudel shook his head and gave his XO an exasperated look. Patterson laughed.

“XO, that’s not helping,” Rudel scolded.

“Sorry, sir,” mumbled Shimko apologetically. The twinkle in his eye said he really wasn’t.

“Captain! This is no laughing matter! I implore you to get this boat to a safe port.” Bover’s voice was becoming shrill.

“No, Mr. Bover,” Rudel answered sternly. “ Seawolf has capabilities the Russians will need before this is over. The only reason Petrov and his men are alive is because of us.”

“And the only reason they’re on the bottom is because of you.” Bover’s retort might have been meant to undermine Rudel, maybe deflate him, but the immediate result was to make Jerry want to throttle the man. Judging by the looks of some of the other officers present, he’d have lots of help.

Patterson intervened quickly and said, “That’s enough, Mr. Bover. You’ve got work to do with Lieutenant Chandler. I suggest you get to it.” She checked her watch. “And we have to leave in twenty minutes.”

Rudel waited until Bover and Chandler left, then asked, “Dr. Patterson, is that why you’re here, to order me home?” Patterson quickly shook her head, denying the accusation, but she also glanced at Jerry. He did his best to think positive thoughts.

After a moment, she answered, “If you were a different captain, perhaps, but remember President Huber’s message. He read your service record, and spoke with Rear Admiral Sloan before deciding to back your actions.”