Ice Station Nautilus (4 page)

As the range between the two submarines began to open, Hydroacoustic made the report Stepanov expected, “Loss of Hydroacoustic five.”

Stepanov asked his First Officer, “An American submarine has detected us and is moving into position behind us. What is your recommendation?”

Pavlov studied the geographic display, then replied, “We should deploy a mobile decoy, then engage the electric drive to reduce our sound signature and turn to break contact.”

Yury Dolgoruky
was equipped with a quiet electric drive propulsion system, able to propel the submarine at up to ten knots.

“No,” Stepanov replied. “Our advantage is that the American Captain does not know we have detected him. I don’t want to alert him.”

“You are going to let him trail us?” Pavlov asked.

“For the time being. We will let him work around behind us.”

“
Then
we engage the electric drive and deploy a decoy?”

“No.”

“I do not understand.”

“Patience, First Officer. Let us see what the American Captain does when we enter the Marginal Ice Zone, and then I will decide.”

USS
NORTH DAKOTA

Commander Tolbert studied the geographic plot.
Dolgoruky
was to the west, and
North Dakota
had worked its way around the Russian submarine. In a few minutes, they would be directly behind her. Thus far, there was no indication
North Dakota
had been detected;
Dolgoruky
remained steady on course and speed, headed northwest at ten knots.

Tolbert waited until
North Dakota
intersected
Dolgoruky
’s trail, then ordered, “Pilot, come to course three-two-five. Ahead two-thirds.”

North Dakota
turned right and slowed, steadying up five thousand yards behind the Russian submarine, matching its course and speed. Tolbert was pleased with his crew’s performance. They had dodged a bullet, successfully skirting around
Dolgoruky
. He hoped their luck held out; the Russian submarine would conduct many baffle clears during its patrol. Each time, there was the potential they would detect
North Dakota
.

The Sonar Supervisor called out, “Possible contact zig, Master One, due to upshift in frequency.”

Lieutenant Commander Sites stood behind the combat control consoles, his eyes shifting between the displays. A moment later, he announced, “Zig confirmed. Set anchor range at five thousand yards. Master One has turned north and remains at ten knots.”

Tolbert examined the geographic display. In a few minutes,
North Dakota
would also turn north, staying in
Dolgoruky
’s baffles.

Sites turned toward Commander Tolbert. “If
Dolgoruky
continues north, she’ll enter the Marginal Ice Zone.”

Commander Tolbert nodded. “Where the Russians go, we go.”

5

MOSCOW, RUSSIA

The Moscow Kremlin—a “fortress inside a city”—spreads across sixty-eight acres in the heart of Moscow. Comprised of five palaces, four cathedrals, and the enclosing Kremlin wall with its twenty towers, the Kremlin has been the seat of Russian grand dukes and tsars since the fourteenth century, and today it is home to Russia’s presidential administration. The green dome of the triangular-shaped Kremlin Senate, the Russian version of the White House, overlooks Red Square to the east and the merchant district of Kitai-gorod in the distance.

On the third floor of the Kremlin Senate, inside a twenty-by-sixty-foot conference room, a polished ebony conference table capable of seating thirty persons was occupied by only four. On one side sat Christine O’Connor, America’s national security advisor, opposed by Maksim Posniak, director of security and disarmament in Russia’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs. An interpreter sat on each side of the table, though thus far they had not been needed. Posniak’s accent was thick, but his English understandable.

They were engaged in the first round of negotiations for the successor to New START, the current nuclear arms treaty between the two countries. As they approached the end of their weeklong negotiations, Christine’s mood could not have soured further. They had made progress while discussing long-range bombers and ICBM silos, but had reached a stalemate concerning Navy launch systems. Sitting across from her, Posniak was a formidable adversary—six feet, three inches tall and 250 pounds—almost a foot taller and weighing twice as much as Christine.

Nonetheless, Christine leaned toward him, adding emphasis to her response. “This is unacceptable.”

“Our position is firm, Ms. O’Connor,” he replied. “No inspectors will be allowed on our Borei class submarines.”

Christine pulled back. “Under the current treaty, we have authorization to inspect all nuclear weapon storage and launch sites. Our satellites detected the loadout of
Yury Dolgoruky
two days ago, which means we already have authorization to board her under New START.”

“We differ in the interpretation of the treaty,” Posniak replied. “The Borei class submarines were not operational when New START was signed and are not listed in the authorized inspection sites. We have no intention of adding them or including them in the follow-on treaty.”

“Then how do we verify the number of warheads on your Bulava missiles?”

“We will have to use another method. I suggest we count the number of launchers and eliminate warhead verification.”

“Launchers are only one part of the equation. How many warheads each missile can deploy is an essential element that must be verified.”

“This issue is not negotiable. Either we work around this stipulation, or there will be no follow-on treaty.”

“This is a deal-breaker for us,” Christine said. “President Kalinin publicly announced his intention to craft a follow-on treaty with the United States, further reducing the number of warheads in each country’s arsenal. I don’t think he’ll be pleased with our inability to craft a new deal. Is he aware of the
stipulation
you’re making?”

“He is aware.”

“I’d like to have a few minutes with President Kalinin. Is he available today?” Christine checked her watch. She was due to fly back to the United States in six hours. However, her stay could be extended to accommodate the Russian president’s schedule.

“You are in luck, Ms. O’Connor. President Kalinin plans to stop by this morning to see how negotiations are progressing.” It was Posniak’s turn to check his watch. “He should be here any moment.”

As Posniak finished speaking, the mahogany French doors behind him opened and two men entered. Christine recognized the man on the right as President Yuri Kalinin and the man on the left as Boris Chernov, Russia’s minister of defense. Christine and the three men at the table rose to their feet as Kalinin and Chernov entered.

Chernov eyed Christine oddly, the same way Posniak stared at her when they first met four days ago. Christine was used to stares from men, but there was something unusual about the way Posniak, and now Russia’s minister of defense, studied her. Christine’s attention turned to President Kalinin, and as their eyes met, he almost stopped in his tracks. His complexion paled as he continued into the room, leaving his eyes on her until he turned abruptly and headed toward one end of the conference room, with Chernov following behind.

*   *   *

Kalinin turned toward his minister of defense, looking over his shoulder at the American woman.

Chernov spoke first. “I am sorry, Yuri. I should have warned you about how closely she resembles Natasha.”

“That would have been wise,” Kalinin replied. “She could be Natasha’s twin.” He was silent for a moment as he stared at the woman. “What is her heritage? Is she Russian?”

“Her last name is O’Connor,” Chernov replied. “Irish descent.”

“She looks Russian,” Kalinin countered. “She could have Russian blood.”

Chernov placed his hand gently on the president’s shoulder. “I know how close you and Natasha were, and how difficult those last few months were. Do not let this woman’s likeness to her affect you. When you are ready, I will find you a suitable
Russian
woman.”

Kalinin grinned. “No doubt a close relative of yours.”

“No doubt.” Chernov matched Kalinin’s grin, then dropped his hand as he glanced at the American woman. “Come, we should introduce ourselves.”

*   *   *

Christine extended her hand as the two men approached. “Mr. President. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Kalinin shook her hand firmly. “It is my pleasure,” he said with only a slight accent. “If I may ask,” he added, “what is your heritage? You remind me of … someone I once knew.”

“I’m half Irish and half Russian.”

“Russian?”

“I am Boris Chernov,” the minister of defense interjected, speaking in a heavy accent as he extended his hand. “Are you enjoying your time in Moscow?”

“Yes,” Christine replied. “Although I haven’t seen as much as I’d like. We’ve been working long hours. Your director of security and disarmament drives a hard bargain and, unfortunately, we’ve reached an impasse. Director Posniak says you want to remove missile warhead inspections from the next nuclear arms treaty.”

“Only regarding our Bulava missile,” Kalinin explained. “You may inspect our older weapon systems, but not our newest strategic submarine or its missile.”

“That will be a problem, Mr. President. The treaty must be approved by our Senate, and without the ability to count warheads, I doubt there will be enough votes.”

“Perhaps you can use your influence to ensure the new treaty passes,” Kalinin replied. “I think we can agree that a significant reduction in nuclear weapons is a worthwhile goal.”

“I
do
agree, Mr. President, but without the ability to verify every weapon system is in compliance, I won’t recommend we sign a new treaty.”

Kalinin’s expression hardened as he replied, “Then we
do
have a problem.” He turned toward Posniak, speaking to him in Russian.

Posniak nodded. “Da,” was his response.

Kalinin turned back to Christine and said briskly, “It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. O’Connor.” He forced a smile onto his face.

“Likewise, Mr. President.” Christine did not reciprocate the smile.

Kalinin and Chernov exited the conference room, and Christine settled into her chair across from Posniak. “If you don’t mind me asking,” Christine said, “what did the president say to you?”

Posniak stared at her for a moment, then answered, “Americans will set foot on one of our Borei class submarines when the crayfish sings on the mountain.”

As Christine tried to decipher the last part of Posniak’s response, he added, “It is a Russian idiom. It translates in English to—
when Hell freezes over
.”

6

BARENTS SEA

YURY DOLGORUKY

Captain Nicholai Stepanov ducked his head as he stepped through the watertight doorway into Compartment One, closing the heavy metal door carefully to prevent a transient from being transmitted into the surrounding water. A day ago, they had detected a 60.2-Hertz tonal during their port egress, and a few hours ago, Stepanov had ordered an aggressive baffle clearance maneuver to the south. They had picked up the 60.2-Hertz tonal again, which faded after only a few minutes as it had done the first time. The American submarine was still following
Dolgoruky
.

Inside the Torpedo Room, Stepanov spotted Senior Lieutenant Ivan Khudozhnik—Torpedo Division Officer, and Senior Michman Andrei Popovich—Torpedo Division’s senior enlisted. Although neither man was on watch, Stepanov was not surprised to find them in the Torpedo Room, verifying everything was in working order. An American submarine was within firing distance, and they might soon be handling weapons. Considering what happened to
Kursk,
this was not an insignificant matter.

Kursk,
an Oscar II cruise missile submarine, sank in the Barents Sea while her crew was preparing to fire a Type 65 exercise torpedo. Although what happened could never be known with certainty, the official Navy report concluded the torpedo, fueled partly by High Test Peroxide—a concentrated form of hydrogen peroxide—developed a crack at a weld, and the HTP leaked into the torpedo casing, coming into contact with a catalyst. The HTP rapidly expanded to five thousand times its original volume, rupturing the torpedo’s kerosene fuel tank and producing an explosion equivalent to 100 kilograms of TNT, killing everyone in Compartment One.

Two minutes later, several warshot torpedoes detonated due to the high heat in the Torpedo Room. The explosion ruptured the bulkheads between the first three compartments and blew a mammoth hole in the bow. All but twenty-three crew members were killed, with the surviving men trapped in Compartment Nine, the farthest one aft. Rescue efforts were hindered by weather and malfunctioning submarine rescue equipment, and the twenty-three men also perished. Following the tragedy, heightened attention was given to torpedo maintenance and weapon handling.

Standing near the forward bulkhead, Khudozhnik and Popovich were supervising a junior Torpedoman who was taking measurements inside an electric panel with a multi-meter. The men turned toward Stepanov, and Khudozhnik greeted the submarine’s commanding officer.

“Good morning, Captain.”

Stepanov nodded his acknowledgment. “What is the problem?”

“Number Two Tube is out of action,” Khudozhnik replied. “The firing panel failed its weekly check, and we’re determining which circuit card has gone bad.”

“What is the status of our spares?” Stepanov asked.

“We have two of every card in the firing panel,” Khudozhnik replied. “As long as the same fault doesn’t develop in more than two firing panels, we will be fine.”

Stepanov nodded again, then headed back toward Compartment Two, confident his men would identify the fault and return Number Two Torpedo Tube to service.

*   *   *