Larry Bond - Cold Choices

Picking up a pair of dividers, Baker measured the flight distance off the chart for Patterson.

“We’ll be approximately here, one hundred and fifty miles away, by 0700 tomorrow. Once airborne, we expect the helo to reach Seawolf about an hour later, and we’re allowing half an hour overhead to send the parts down and bring the injured aboard. The winds are subsiding, but they’ll still be a major factor. And this type of evolution is never easy. The XO is working on a message telling Seawolf when to surface. He’ll run it by you before we send it.”

Patterson was grateful for the courtesy. “At least we can talk to her.”

International News Network

“Reports of a successful attempt by USS Seawolf to transfer atmosphere control chemicals and other supplies to the crippled Severodvinsk have been confirmed by the U.S. Navy. Although in communication with the downed sub, Seawolf has not provided a list of the dead or injured Russian sailors. Inquiries by International News Network as to the reason for this have not been answered.

“Requests for comment by the Russian Federation government have been referred to the Russian ambassador to the United Nations, Madame Elisaveta Yansanov. A spokesman for the ambassador said that the report of the American submarine’s activities could not be verified. She also said that she has no data on the location or activities of Russian forces, but that the rescue of the sailors aboard Severodvinsk is proceeding according to plan.”

The White House

Jeffrey Wright went in first, followed by the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, the Chief of Naval Operations, and then Rear Admiral Sloan. As National Security Adviser, Wright had been in the Oval Office many times, but was always impressed, and thought carefully before speaking. This was the driver’s seat.

The current occupant, President Nathan Huber, looked up from his desk as Wright and his group were ushered in. An aide was collecting documents as Huber hurriedly signed them. “I’ll finish these later,” he told the aide, and came around from behind the desk.

He greeted Wright, General Hodge, and Admiral Forrester; then Forrester introduced Rear Admiral Sloan.

“This is Commander of Submarine Group Two, sir. Seawolf is one of his boats. We thought his expertise would be useful.” Sloan stood at near-attention.

Huber warmly shook Sloan’s hand. “Welcome, Admiral.” He turned a little to the left, smiling, and automatically, Sloan turned in the same direction. A bright flash filled his eyes, and he heard Huber say, “Thanks, Ray. We’ll take some more a little later.” Huber introduced a young man standing to the right of his desk. “You all know Ed Rain, my press secretary.”

Wright and the other three took seats across from the president, while aides arranged themselves inconspicuously behind the principals. Rain took a seat nearby and began scribbling furiously.

Forrester began his report. “Mr. President, Seawolf’s resupply was successful. Captain Rudel reports Severodvinsk has an additional three days of breathable air. They also gave the Russians medical supplies, lanterns, batteries, and a little food. Our best intelligence on the Russian task group says they will arrive on the scene by tomorrow morning, local time.”

Wright added, “And we’ve forwarded Rudel’s report on to the State Department. They’ve passed it to Moscow and to the Russian ambassador. No official response.”

Rain looked up from his notepad, frowning. “The Russians probably got Rudel’s report the same time that we did. It’s a commercial satellite phone. Every national intelligence service and even some media organizations can listen in whenever he calls us.”

Wright responded, “There’s no need for secrecy. The more open our actions, the less the Russians can accuse us of. Look at what Rudel’s done. That’s great press. He’s bought time for Severodvinsk’s crew, and brilliantly at that.”

“What about this underwater vehicle they used to carry the supplies?” Huber asked. “I won’t quibble about cost in the middle of a rescue operation, but didn’t we just hand them classified technology?”

Wright and Forrester both looked at Sloan, who shrugged. “They may be able to remove some of the components. The computer and sonar are first-rate technology, but none of the hardware is classified and all of it is commercially available. Of course, the pieces would have to be portable enough to take with them when they are rescued.”

General Hodges concluded, “The most they can get are parts of a state-of-the-art UUV. Possibly of some use for their own designers.”

“An unintended consequence of Commander Rudel’s ingenuity,” Rain commented.

“An unavoidable consequence,” corrected Sloan.

Rain made a note. “I like that. ‘Unavoidable’ is good. He simply had no choice.”

“That’s good, Jeffrey.” Huber seemed distracted. “When do we expect the Norwegians to reach the area?”

“The day after tomorrow, the tenth, and Mystic two days after that,” Forrester answered. “If the Russians can’t get their men out, the Norwegians should arrive before their air gets too foul.”

“Barely,” Sloan added, and Hodges nodded agreement.

“And when the Russians arrive, Rudel can pass control to them and leave, correct?” Huber sounded hopeful.

“Unless the Russians ask Seawolf to stay and assist,” Sloan answered. “She still has two UUVs. They would be very useful.”

Huber looked over at his press secretary. Rain observed, “That could be good and bad. Their asking makes us one of the good guys, part of the rescue effort. But if it fails, we’re to blame as well, especially since the collision was our fault to begin with.”

Wright, Hodges, Forrester, and Sloan all looked as if they were going to speak, but Huber quickly beat them to it. “According to the reports, Ed, Rudel did his best to avoid a collision.”

Rain shook his head. “Understood, sir. And that’s the line we’ve taken, but the Russians say it’s our fault, and until an investigation clears Rudel, a lot of people will believe it’s our fault. Our best course of action is whatever gets Seawolf out of the area and out of the news before anything else bad happens.”

“We don’t have a lot of options,” Huber mused. “At least until the Russians take over.”

“Which is why we have to limit our actions, so as to limit our risks.” Rain turned to the officers. “For instance, this something-or-other sulfur chloride they dumped overboard to make room for supplies, this action has already cost us some political capital. I’ve had calls from several environmental organizations complaining about this flagrant violation of international accords. Do you know how toxic that stuff is? We’re talking about alienating some of the President’s core supporters!”

Sloan argued, “It had to be done. If. ”

“Yes, I understand the necessity, but it won’t stop some people with an agenda from second-guessing, and that can do more damage than actual events. There’s no leverage for us in this crisis. We gain nothing, even if Severodvinsk’s crew is rescued.”

Huber stood and paced. “I know we’re working to save lives, but the best we can expect at the end of the day is to break even.” He started ticking off items on his fingers. “First, attention’s been drawn to a classified operation. Second, lives have been lost and a submarine’s been badly damaged in a collision. That means an investigation, and possibly a court-martial. More bad press. Third, relations with Russia are going to suffer, even if Severodvinsk’s crew is rescued.”