“Fire in the first compartment, fire in the torpedo room,” he said into the mike as he consciously tried to keep his voice calm despite his rising panic. His voice was broadcast through the ship like the voice of God. “Emergency support team, report to the second compartment upper level door to the first compartment. All hands, rig ship for fire.” He put the microphone back in its cradle, found his emergency air breathing mask, pulled it over his head and looked through its facemask at Lebedev. “Madam First, I want you on-scene. That is the worst place to have a fire.”
The sound of the ventilation ducts died again as ventilation systems were shut down for the rig for fire.
Kovalov looked at Alexeyev. “I’ll go with her.”
“No, Captain Kovalov, you stay in central with me,” Alexeyev barked.
“Electric plant is nominal,” Ausra reported on the phone circuit. “Reactor number two is in the power range. Ready to answer bells on the starboard propulsion turbine, propulsion limited to ahead standard.”
Alexeyev unbuckled from his seat. Kovalov released his own seatbelt at the battlecontrol console and walked to Alexeyev.
“If that’s a weapon fuel fire,” Kovalov said quietly to Alexeyev, “we have a real problem.”
“We need to get back to open water,” Alexeyev took the three steps to the navigation console. “Navigator, plot a course to the ice target. The Gigantskiy must have opened up a large polynya there. We can surface and ventilate there.”
Maksimov was already ready with the answer. “Course zero eight seven, Captain.”
“Watch Officer, proceed at four knots to the open water at the ice target, course zero eight seven,” Alexeyev ordered.
The smell of the smoke was stronger now, and central command was getting hazy. With the ventilation systems shut down with the rig for fire, the fact he could smell smoke through his mask was very bad news.
Captain Second Rank Ania Lebedev arrived at the compartment door to the first compartment, which was open. It should have been dogged shut, she thought, for the rig for fire. She unplugged her emergency mask’s air hose and stepped over the hatch coaming into the first compartment, which was black with smoke. She plugged her air hose into the manifold in the overhead of the first compartment and saw the senior enlisted weapons chief, Glavny Starshina Semion Yeger, who looked at her through his mask, his expression one of panic.
“Chief, what’s the status?” Lebedev shouted through her mask.
“There’s a ruptured weapon, middle rack, farthest to starboard,” Yeger shouted back. “We’re attempting a patch with a high-pressure hose on it, but the fire is in the bilges now.”
“Evacuate the compartment, Chief,” Lebedev yelled. “I’m activating the liquid nitrogen.”
“But Madam First, that will put out the fire but likely rupture more weapons!”
“I don’t care, Chief, I intend to auto-jettison.”
“All hands, evacuate the first compartment,” Yeger ordered in the phone’s tactical circuit.
Three enlisted men and one enlisted woman came hurriedly through the smoke, stepped through the hatch and plugged in their air hoses at the second compartment upper-level manifold. Lebedev pushed Yeger out of the first compartment, then stepped through the hatch herself.
“Help me shut it,” she yelled to the gathered weapons technicians.
The hatch shut and Lebedev dogged it and locked it. “Chief, call central and inform them I’m activating liquid nitrogen and that I’ll auto-jettison afterward.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Yeger said. He spoke into the circuit for a moment while Lebedev lifted a large warning cover off the emergency liquid nitrogen deluge system. She latched the cover open, exposing a large red mushroom button. She pressed the button, saying a silent prayer that the system would work. If she survived this, she thought, she’d find the Sevmash Shipyard supervisor whose people installed and tested the system and present him with the most expensive bottle of vodka she could get her hands on.
For a long, endless second, nothing happened. Then the sound of flow noise came from above and became deafeningly loud. For a long minute, the liquid nitrogen deluge sprayed into the room on the other side of the hatch, finally exhausting the nitrogen tanks.
“Chief, commence auto-jettison of all weapons,” she ordered Yeger.
“Understood, Madam First,” he said. “We have a tube-loaded VA-111 Shkval in tube six. It’s probably undamaged. Can we keep that?”
“Yes, for now, Chief. I’ll advise the captain and see if he wants it jettisoned. Report to central as each weapon leaves the ship.” She looked at the weapons technicians. “You’re all contaminated with weapon fuel — get to the safety showers, dump your clothes in the sealed hoppers and decontaminate. Chief, I’m going back to central.”
As Lebedev hurried aft, Yeger looked at his senior technician. “I don’t know if she saved the ship or doomed it. Without weapons? We’re helpless.”
“We still have the Shkval and a Gigantskiy left,” she said.
“Mr. Pacino, nice of you to return to your watch,” Quinnivan said.
