Dankleff looked over his shoulder at Pacino. “We’ll need to get on top of the sail to find out.”
“Conn, Radio!” the overhead speaker rasped. “We have flash traffic off of COMM-1.”
“Bring it to control,” Pacino said to the overhead, but the radioman was already there with a pad computer, thrusting it into Captain Seagraves’ hands. Seagraves read it and passed it to Quinnivan, who pulled his reading glasses out of his pocket and read the message. By then, Seagraves had pulled the 1MC shipwide announcing system’s microphone out of the overhead.
“Attention all hands,” Seagraves voice boomed throughout the ship. “This is the captain. We have immediate and urgent orders to fire upon and sink the
Pacino traded glances with Lewinsky. This operation had transitioned from surveillance to combat in a single one-sentence radio message.
“Attention in the firecontrol party,” Seagraves said to the room as the additional watchstanders rushed in to take over from the section tracking party’s watchstanders. “My intention is to open torpedo tube door number one to a Mark 48 ADCAP in offense mode and torpedo tube door number four to a Mark 48 in countermeasure torpedo mode. We will dial in an assumed solution for Master One. I believe Master One is withdrawing to the narrow entrance of this closed-in region of ice and he will fire on us from there. Once we’re in position, we will fire the offensive weapon, and if we detect a counterfire, we’ll shoot the CMT weapon.” Seagraves looked at Pacino. “Officer of the Deck, vertical dive to two hundred feet and spin the ship to face west.”
As Pacino executed Seagraves’ order, Quinnivan turned to the captain. “Should we try to detonate the mines, Captain?”
“The SEALs seem to think they didn’t survive the shock wave of the Gigantskiy torpedo,” Seagraves said.
“Can’t hurt to try, sir.”
“It’s an active sonar pulse, XO. It would give away our exact bearing. When we’re hovering, we’re not making enough noise to be detected.”
“We’ll make noise once that torpedo leaves the ship.”
“True, XO. We can try the sonar pulse after we fire tube one.”
“Good plan, Captain.”
“Ship is in position, Captain,” Watch Officer Vilen Shvets announced from his starboard side seat at the command console. “We’ve hovered and spun to heading zero eight seven. Request permission to hit Hostile One with an active sonar ping to identify his range.”
Captain First Rank Georgy Alexeyev was strapped into his portside seat at the command console with his five-point seatbelt cinched up tight.
“Attention in central command,” he said to the room. “My intentions are to fire the Shkval in tube six at Hostile One. We will ping active on him first to get a target data package to insert into the Shkval. We expect only a one-in-three chance of a kill with that weapon. If we are unable to confirm target destruction, we will launch the second Gigantskiy torpedo in ultraslow speed mode, and withdraw rapidly, put distance between us and the detonation point, getting ice walls between us and the point of detonation. Everyone clear?”
The room was silent. He looked at Lebedev, who nodded solemnly. Her reminders on the last mission to announce his intentions — and to seek, and take, advice — had improved his performance, he thought. Perhaps he did live inside his own head a little too much.
“Status of the Shkval in tube six?” he asked.
“Outer door is open, sir,” Captain Lieutenant Katerina Sobol reported. “Weapon is on internal power. We need a target data package to be inserted. Bearing, range and speed, or failing that, simply the bearing.”
“Status of the Gigantskiy?”
“Large bore tube five’s outer door is open. Weapon power is applied from the ship, but all systems are started up and nominal. Gigantskiy unit two also needs a target data package.”
“Very good,” Alexeyev said, glancing to his right, where First Officer Ania Lebedev occupied the command console’s center seat. “You ready?”
“Captain,” Shvets said, “
Alexeyev nodded and turned toward Shvets. “Watch Officer, to
“I’m ready, Captain,” Lebedev said quietly. “I hope we made the right decision about the
“I’m sure it will be fine, Madam First,” Alexeyev said, hoping his voice sounded credible. “Sonar Officer, line up to transmit active sonar and ping at Hostile One’s assumed position.”
Sonar Officer Valerina Palinkova operated the switch-protector on the sonar sphere’s mode selector switch and rotated it from “PASSIVE” to “ACTIVE.” She uncovered a second protective cover over the ping buttons, selected high frequency and pushed it.
Nothing happened.
Frowning, Palinkova put her finger on the low frequency active transmit button and pushed it.
Still nothing.
