Lebedev frowned. “We’re still working on that, Captain. Sevmash engineers keep saying they have plans A, B and C converging on the problem all at once, but I think they’re having trouble.”
“I’ll talk to Admiral Zhigunov about it tomorrow,” Alexeyev said. “Unless he makes a surprise visit tonight.”
“You think he’s coming?” Kovalov asked.
Alexeyev shrugged. “I don’t know. From what I hear, he’s getting an earful daily from the chain of command. With the president himself running the mission, the defense ministry and high command of the Navy are all breathing down Zhigunov’s neck.”
“He may want to escape for a late drink with his crews, though,” Vlasenko said, smiling. Alexeyev glared balefully at Vlasenko, who seemed too perpetually cheerful. Perhaps Kovalov’s young first officer hadn’t yet grasped the gravity of their present circumstances.
“What about
“Sevmash just replaced the evaporator and the electrical still. Nuclear reactors and steam plants, even tiny ones like mine, go through water like, well, water. We can’t test them pier side — the water isn’t clean enough. We’ll have to wait until we reach open water to fire them up.”
“We can feed you deionized water from
Kovalov nodded. “When you think about it, pure water is mission-limiting. When we’re deploying the Status-6 units, we’ll be in littoral waters. Shallow, silty, sandy, muddy waters. We’ll have to shut down the evaporator and still when we undock to place the Status-6s. We’d better place them damn expeditiously, or we’ll run out of water.”
“You have steam leaks or primary leaks that are eating your water?” Lebedev asked Kovalov.
Kovalov shook his head. “Sevmash groomed primary and secondary systems.
“While we’re on hold, Sergei,” Alexeyev said, “perhaps you can take
Kovalov shook his head. “We’d be out of position if the mission gets ordered to start suddenly. The Status-6 loadout and Gigantskiy load will only take a day. I’d be two days out if I want to do a shakedown.”
Alexeyev nodded. “Nothing to do now but wait,” he said. “I’m hungry.” He checked his wristwatch. “Where the hell are the
“We don’t call them ‘comfort women’ anymore, Captain,” Lebedev said. “They’re
“Fine. Test wives. Anyway, while we wait, I’ll go to the kitchen and see what they can cook up. I’m sure the fleet guards can’t provide the full menu of the Lamb’s Valhalla. Which is a shame.”
Alexeyev stood to go to the kitchen, deciding to stop at the restroom. He washed up and stepped to the kitchen, where the staff were stirring a large cauldron. A tantalizing aroma filled the kitchen, making Alexeyev even more hungry.
“What is it?”
“Rabbit stew with homemade dumplings, Captain,” one of the fleet guards said, wiping a hand on his apron. “Are you ready for us to serve?”
“Not yet, we’re missing four people.”
Alexeyev left the kitchen and saw the missing four had shown up and were seated. As he approached the table, the newcomers began to stand to greet him, but he waved them back to their seats.
“Captain First Rank Georgy Alexeyev,” he said, introducing himself. The woman nearest him shook his hand, her grip soft, her hand warm, and she introduced herself. Alexeyev greeted the other three. They all seemed pretty, but nothing that would tempt him away from his wife, Natalia, he thought, although other married men might not feel their marriages were as solid. He looked over at Kovalov, who seemed to be staring at the oldest of the four. In contrast to the other three, all brunettes, the fourth, the youngest, was a platinum blonde with large blue eyes and puffy apple red lips.
“Have any of you sailed on submarines before?” Lebedev asked the oldest one, who had introduced herself as Captain Third Rank Svetlana Anna.
Anna shook her head. “Our only sea voyages have been on support ships. This will be all new to us.”
Kovalov laughed. “You picked one hell of a mission for your first submarine ride.”
“Can you tell us about it?” Anna asked.
“That’s why we’re here,” Alexeyev said, putting out his hand to Kovalov for another cigarette.
“Op brief!” Quinnivan bellowed. “Get your arses in here, ye scurvy junior officers! And U-Boat, cut the fookin’ crap.”
