Larry Bond - Cold Choices

AS-34 held the lower end in one of her handling arms, which had to be strengthened to accommodate the heavy wire cable. The wire rope was over an inch in diameter. A loop spliced onto the end would be attached to the hull where the sub’s mooring lines were usually placed.

When the word was given, Severodvinsk would blow her port tanks, flood her starboard tanks, the charges lining her hull would be fired, and the two tugs would pull on the cables for all they were worth. At some point, the cable would snap, or the mooring points might be ripped from the casing, but by the ghost of Admiral Makaroff, they would right Severodvinsk.

“Fifty meters.” Bakhorin’s depth report was routine, and Umansky checked the passive sonar display, as if his partner would stray off course. They were moving slowly, which seemed strange because the weight of the cable should make them descend more quickly. But three hundred meters of cable had considerable drag, and much of it was still on Rudnitskiy s deck. It wouldn’t be completely paid out and attached to the buoy until AS-34 did their part of the job,

“Seventy-five meters.” Bakhorin was still on track, and Umansky took another set of battery readings.

Discharge rate was more than doubled. He could almost watch the charge meter go down. “We’re down to eighty percent,” he warned.

“What?” Bakhorin’s immediate response was to look for some errant piece of gear that was drawing power. There was none, of course. Umansky was busy with his tables and a calculator. Bakhorin wanted to let him finish his calculations, but the answer was obvious. “Are the batteries failing?”

Umansky nodded, a look of frustration on his face. “The only question is how much power do we have left. I have to assume the discharge rate will increase, instead of staying constant.” Finally, he tossed the calculator into a corner with disgust. “Twenty minutes at most, maybe as little as ten. I’d like to plot the change in the discharge rate. It may be an exponential function.”

“You don’t need mathematics like that to know we can’t make it back to the surface in time.”

“We can still make it to Severodvinsk.”

“With barely enough time to attach the cable,” Bakhorin confirmed. “But this is the second one. I know what needs to be done.”

“Then we proceed,” Umansky answered.

By the time they’d reached Severodvinsk, the battery charge was down to thirty-four percent. It should have read in the seventies, because it took more power to ascend than descend.

The first cable had been attached forward, so they headed aft. In spite of his haste, Bakhorin was careful to steer clear of the bow. There was no telling exactly where the dark-colored cable was, and running into it could damage both AS-34 and the cable.

Neither Russian was terribly worried about their minisub at this point. They knew it was her last dive. With the batteries shot, and no replacements or any way to fix them, she was finished.

The mooring point was under a retractable plate. It was designed by Russians, to work when the deck was caked with ice and snow, and it worked underwater as well.

Using one claw, Bakhorin uncovered the mooring point, and as carefully as a watchmaker, slipped the eye of the loop over the cleat. Once it was settled into place, he released the claw and announced, “I’m clear.”

Umansky gave him a thumbs up and said, “Good. Move us away from the submarine.”

“Understood. I’m heading to the northeast.”

“Away from the buoy and the ships. I concur.”

As Bakhorin guided them to their new location, Umansky checked the discharge rate again. It had increased slightly. Whatever was going on inside those batteries, it was only getting worse. They only had ten percent of a full charge now. It would be impossible to make the surface with the motors. In fact, Bakhorin hoped they would be able to get at least half a kilometer away from Severodvinsk.

Twenty seconds later, the display panel lights began flickering and the motors started losing thrust. “That’s far enough. Releasing yellow flare.” Bakhorin pressed a lever, releasing a smoke float. They were not coming up where they were supposed to, so it was only polite to mark their current location.

The minisub drifted to a stop, and Umansky reached over to cut the switches to the motors, the passive sonar, and the exterior lights. The gauge read less than five percent charge. The batteries were essentially flat. Bakhorin laughed. “Well, that’s it for me. I’m just a passenger now.”

“You always were the lazy one,” Umansky shot back. “I think it’s time to quickly shed some unnecessary weight.”

“Make sure that panel still has some power,” Bakhorin joked.

“We have a green board,” Umansky replied. “Dropping ballast.”

A dull BANG reverberated through the hull and they felt a sudden jolt.

Umansky pressed a second button, and another BANG sounded as explosive bolts detached the mechanical arms from the bottom of the minisub. Between the ballast and arms, nearly a thousand kilograms of dead metal landed on the seabed, just a few meters below them.

They were rising, but there was no point in taking their time. “Initiating gas generators.” The last button fired four chemical containers located in the minisub’s ballast tanks. Each was fitted with a small hydrazine charge that would fill the tanks rapidly with gas; emptying them of water. The sound was smaller, but they could still feel the vibration, and better still, the depth meter started spiraling upward. They’d be on the surface in moments.

“Now comes the hard part,” said Bakhorin ruefully, “breaking the news to the Admiral.”

Skynews Network

Preparations to rescue the crew of trapped submarine Severodvinsk received a setback today, when the overage batteries on the rescue submersible AS-34 failed during a dive.

The Russian submersible, over fifteen years old, has suffered from battery problems since the rescue began, but until now they have only limited the number of dives the submersible could make, and their duration.

On the last dive, the batteries suddenly began to lose their charge, and the operators, Captains Third Rank Bakhorin and Umansky, faced a difficult choice. If they aborted the dive, the rescue would be delayed, but if they continued and attached the cable, they would not have enough power to return to the surface.

The two submariners took the dangerous course, and successfully attached the rescue cable. With barely enough electrical power remaining to move away from the downed submarine, they performed a risky emergency surfacing, which succeeded.

AS-34 is one of three underwater vehicles working on the rescue. The other two are remote operating vehicles operated by the Norwegian salvage and rescue vessel Halsfjord, and according to Mr. Arne Lindstrom, are in “excellent mechanical condition.” He estimates that the loss of AS-34 will cost “about six hours.”

In an interview with Skynews reporter Britt Adams, Vice Admiral Pavel Borisov, commanding the rescue operation, called Bakhorin and Umansky “heroes upholding the best traditions of the Russian naval service,” and said that such men were “common throughout the fleet.”

Preparations are now expected to be complete at one o’clock tomorrow afternoon local time. If they are successful in righting the submarine, the survivors will be on the surface within minutes.

Navy Wives and Mothers Organization, Gorshkov Prospekt, Severomorsk

The walls were stained in one corner, the pattern had worn off the linoleum in many places, and Mariska and her husband had left in search of a proper lock for the front door.