Larry Bond - Dangerous Ground

The launch was routine, although as it lifted off, Jerry could feel his nerve endings extending out into the Manta. In the back of his mind, he was calculating how quickly he could recover the vehicle if another Bear appeared.

With Hardy keeping Memphis on the sixty-fathom curve, it took the Manta half an hour to reach the near edge of the planned search area — the last one. Although Jerry paid careful attention to the display, he couldn’t keep from thinking about the end of the mission and marking the time left until the Manta was finished.

Just over an hour into the search, Emily Davis came into the torpedo room. Her manner was anxious and hurried, although she’d walked softly because the sub was at ultra-quiet routine. She came straight over to Jerry. With a dead serious expression, she said, “You have to come with me to control, Jerry.”

Puzzled, Jerry replied, “I can’t leave my station while the Manta is out searching.”

“Yes, you can. You have to. Davidson can watch the display for you, and besides, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

The urgency in her voice combined with her last statement piqued Jerry’s curiosity. Reluctantly, he followed her up to the control room. As they were climbing the ladder, he asked Emily what had changed, but she only shook her head and kept moving.

As they approached the control room, they could hear Patterson arguing with Hardy. Trying to expand the area of the Manta’s sortie, her voice carried out into the passageway. “All I’m asking for is for a couple more Manta runs to expand the search. ”

They walked in to see both Patterson and Hardy bent over one of the plotting tables, his expression one of strained patience, hers desperate.

“Out of the question, Dr. Patterson. We are finishing up the last of twenty-four sorties, and we have nothing to gain by adding more,” Hardy said firmly.

“Even if we managed to find one site that met your criteria, it wouldn’t change your findings significantly. Let’s face it, Doctor, the environmental threat you pitched to the President isn’t here. It might be, in a few decades, but not now. ”

“Excuse me, Captain,” said Emily politely.

“. and I don’t intend to risk being detected,” continued Hardy, “just to bail your political butt out of the sling you put it in!”

Enraged by Hardy’s accusation, Patterson lashed out. “How dare you suggest that I. ”

“Dr. Patterson, please,” pleaded Emily.

“I’m not going to debate this further. We’re leaving as soon as the Manta…”

“As the mission commander, I say when we leave, not you or anyone…”

“Would you two shut up!” Emily yelled angrily.

An abrupt silence formed in control, as everyone was utterly astonished by Emily’s uncharacteristic outburst. All the watchstanders focused intently on their controls and indications; no one dared look back toward the plotting tables, out of fear that they’d meet either the Captain’s or Patterson’s gaze.

“I beg your pardon,” demanded Hardy after the shock wore off.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’ve had enough of your fighting,” protested Emily. “You two sound just like my parents. You’re just as stubborn, self-centered, and pompous as they are. Well, now you two are going to listen to me.”

Hardy and Patterson briefly looked at each other with confusion, and then back at the mouse that just roared. “Emily, what is the meaning of this?” questioned Patterson defensively.

Before Emily could answer, Hardy finally noticed Jerry standing there. Embarrassed, Hardy demanded, “Mr. Mitchell, why aren’t you at your station?”

Davis answered for him. “We’ve got a problem, Captain, a very big problem. And it involves him as much as the rest of us.” Davis answered urgently. She then handed Patterson a computer printout and waited silently while she scanned the results. Hardy and Jerry both waited as well, the Captain glaring at Jerry, who fervently hoped whatever was on that paper would justify his being here.

Patterson’s face became a mask, so neutral that Jerry guessed she was struggling to control her emotions. She sat down suddenly and then looked around. By now, everyone in control was watching.

She started explaining. “All of the samples we take contain various amounts of radioactive material. Cesium, cobalt, uranium, strontium, whatever might show up in fuel, spent fuel, or other radioactive materials. It’s usually a mix of all of them, and the combination is a good way to identify the kind of waste. With some combinations, we can even identify the type of reactor they came from.”

She held up the printout. “This gamma-ray spectrum analysis doesn’t show any of the elements that we’d expect from any type of nuclear fuel, spent or otherwise. It’s remarkably uniform, too uniform. Emily, have you double-checked the results?”

“I triple-checked it, Doctor. There was no trace of fission products, activation products, uranium or any of the other plutonium isotopes. The readings are consistent with essentially pure plutonium-239-weapons-grade plutonium-239.”

Jerry’s mind raced as Emily delivered the stark conclusion of her analysis. Pu-239 is one of many plutonium isotopes that typically showed up in small amounts in spent nuclear fuel, particularly fuel that had a lot of Uranium-238 in it. They had found trace amounts of Pu-239, along with five other isotopes, on the seabed at many of the sites they had surveyed. But it was impossible for concentrated Pu-239 to exist in spent fuel. It had to be extracted and purified, and this took human effort. He watched Captain Hardy go through the same thought process and saw his expression become a mixture of caution and concern. “What’s the chance of a false reading?”

Patterson answered. “None. The tests are based. ”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He looked around, then asked the group, “Can anyone think of a good reason, no matter how bizarre, for weapons-grade nuclear material to be on a sunken barge in the Kara Sea?” He turned to face Bair. “XO?”

“I can think of a lot of reasons, but none of them are good.” Bair smiled as he said it, but it was a worried smile.

Patterson was pale, but spoke firmly. “Captain, we have to go back and find out every scrap of information about that barge. When it was scuttled, exactly what is in the hold, what’s in those cases. ”

Hardy cut her off. “I agree. I don’t like it. In fact, I hate it, but I agree. Mr. Mitchell, get the Manta back here ASAP Use maximum speed. XO, as soon as the Manta’s recovered, head Memphis toward the barge. Work with Mr. O’Connell to find the closest spot on the forty-fathom curve to the barge’s location. I want a fast approach and a clear exit path.”

Hardy stopped to look at Jerry. “Mister, what are you still doing here?” Jerry took that as a dismissal. As he left, he heard Hardy say, “And get me the COB!”

As soon as the Manta was stowed, Memphis began working her way toward the barge and into shallow water. As nervous as Hardy was about shallow water, the divers would need as short a swim as possible. It would also reduce the time that Memphis was vulnerable, with men outside her hull.

The XO led a hasty planning meeting in the wardroom. Jerry immediately volunteered to be one of the divers, but Bair killed the idea. “We’ll need you here to drive the Manta, Jerry. You are going to carry the swimmers over to the barge and bring them back.”

He turned to Reynolds. “COB, how fast can the Manta go with you and Harris hanging on?” ET2 Harris was the third ship’s diver. “The Manta can do up to twenty.”

The COB smiled and said, “Anything over five knots will require a harness. If we rig harnesses to the attachment points and it tows us, maybe ten knots. But I’d want to work up to that speed slowly,” he added quickly.