Larry Bond - Cold Choices

And they had that big escape capsule. Every modern Russian attack sub had a built-in escape chamber, large enough to hold the entire crew. It included emergency radios as well. Had they been prevented from using even that last resort?

He listened to others list and then dismiss the same possibilities, and others besides. It wasn’t impossible that another sub had gone down, but with so few Russian attack boats in operational service, the chances of two of them operating together, with one being lost and the other not sounding the alarm, were nil.

Rudel listened to the discussion silently, letting it run its course. “The only reasonable explanation is that the Russian boat is severely damaged, probably crippled. It’s down, and we know where it was, where it may still be.” Jerry couldn’t disagree. If it had gone down, it was going to be near where they had run into each other.

“We’re turning around. Immediately. Mr. Mitchell, give me the quickest course back to the location of our collision. Plan for a UUV search of the area when we arrive. We need to find the sub, if it’s there.”

Jerry automatically responded “Aye, aye, sir” even as his mind raced ahead. What would they do when they got there? What could they do?

“As of right now, this is a rescue mission. I’ll inform the crew in a few minutes. Dismissed.”

Stan Lavoie and Jerry headed back to control. Jerry was still on automatic pilot, only half his attention on his task as he checked the chart. He laid a straightedge along their path, then waited until Lavoie had taken over as OOD. “First cut, new course is zero eight zero.”

Everyone in control heard Jerry’s recommendation, but nobody reacted until Lieutenant Commander Lavoie ordered the course change, turning Seawolf away from Scotland and back into the Barents Sea.

QM3 Gosnell was the quartermaster of the watch, and he leaned across the chart table. “Mr. Mitchell, sir. What the. ” He paused, then asked, “Sir, why are we changing course?”

Jerry could see other watchstanders looking at each other, and at the officers. They had question marks for faces.

“We’re going back to look for the Russian,” Jerry explained to Gosnell. “Northern Fleet’s. ”

“This is the Captain.” Jerry gratefully let Rudel do the talking.

“The Russian Navy’s Northern Fleet has broadcast an emergency alert for a lost submarine. This is no secret — someone on a submarine rescue ship sent it in the clear to the entire Northern Fleet. The sub they are looking for is almost certainly the boat we collided with. It hasn’t come back to port, and they can’t reach it by radio.

“It’s likely that the Russian boat was damaged more severely than we thought, and it’s probably down. We’re going back to find them if they’re there, and then guide rescue forces to the correct location.”

Rudel paused for a moment, letting the crew absorb the news, then continued. “We could continue on to Faslane and home, but I would never get a good night’s sleep again knowing I’d left those men to their fate. We will stay long enough to make sure that Russians have found their sub, then we leave.”

After the captain finished, nobody spoke. Gosnell watched as Jerry worked out the course back east and passed a small correction to Lavoie.

Jerry straightened up from the chart table to see the XO talking to Lavoie. “Have your engineers double-check the patch work on the hull in the electronics equipment space.”

He saw Lavoie’s expression and raised his hands, defending himself. The XO cut him off: “I’m not saying they did a sloppy job, but they were in a hurry. Now it’s got to last for a while. And tell me if you can brace it further — no, wait. Just find a way to strengthen the bracing.”

Shimko walked over to the chart table and inspected the new track. Jerry showed him the course and the time to reach the collision site.

“As soon as Stan’s men have reinforced the shoring, the skipper wants to increase speed. He wants us up to at least seven knots by midnight, preferably ten if we can swing it.”

Jerry suppressed his immediate response, but his worried expression said it for him. Shimko didn’t have any sympathy. “The Captain’s going to move heaven and earth to find that boat. Remember what he said. This is now a rescue mission.”

A dozen thoughts were running loose in Jerry’s mind. He snagged one in passing. “The storm. The Russians won’t be able to get any units in there until it clears.”

“And when it does, they’ll need to make up lost time.” Shimko’s intensity impressed Jerry. He’d taken the captain’s decision and made it his own. “We may be the only chance those guys have.”

“What if we can’t find them?”

“I already asked the Skipper how hard he wants to look. We can cover a lot of ground with the UUVs and do a thorough job of it. Here’s a rough search plan.”

He showed Jerry a sheet of graph paper with a rounded fan shape. It narrowed near the site of the collision, with the wide end pointing toward the Russian coast. “Get together with Wolfe and Palmer. Refine the search pattern and figure out when we can launch two UUVs, how long it will take them to double-cover this area. When they’re done looking, and if we haven’t found the Russian, we go home.”

Shimko handed him the search plan. “And while you’re doing that, I’ll figure out what to do when we do find him.”

In the torpedo room, some of the torpedomen were servicing the UUVs. Wolfe and Palmer were having a quiet conversation in another corner, but Wolfe seemed eager to involve Jerry when he saw him.

Lieutenant (j.g.) Palmer asked, “Did the Skipper say anything more about what we’d do once we found the Russian?”

“You sound worried, Jeff.”

“You’d better believe I’m worried. The last Russian we met wasn’t too stable, and I’m wondering how the next batch will react. Imagine their situation: They’ve lost one of their subs, and when they go looking, they find us instead, camped out right over their lost boat. And how did we know where it was? We sank it.”

“We didn’t sink it, we collided,” Jerry stated flatly

“I don’t think they’ll see it that way. We’re still afloat.”

Wolfe shrugged helplessly. Jerry understood why the weapons officer had been so eager to have him join the conversation.

“With a leaky pressure hull and half our sensors gone,” Jerry countered. Impatiently, he cut off Palmer’s response. “Hand-waving isn’t going to help anything. Let’s focus on the job the Skipper gave us. First things first, we need to find the Russian boat. Here’s the area we need to cover and the XO’s first cut at a search plan.”

It took them time to build an efficient search plan. They would use Patty and Maxine in the search, holding LaVerne in reserve. Seawolf would also cover part of the search area. The trick lay in making sure that every area was swept twice, each time by a different unit, and as quickly as possible.

It was after midnight when they finished, and they finished without Wolfe, who left at 2330 to relieve Lavoie as the OOD. While they worked, Palmer tried twice more to raise the issue of the Russians’ reaction, but Jerry kept them focused on their task.

Finally, when they finished, as Jerry turned to leave, Palmer tried again. “I don’t see how the Captain’s going to make contact with the Russians and get us out of there safely.”

“You don’t have to, Jeff. That’s the Captain’s job.” Jerry paused, then asked flatly, “Do you trust the Skipper?”

“Of course I do,” Palmer answered automatically.

“Then trust him to do the right thing when the time comes.”