Category Five (36 page)

“What is it?”

“The line…” His anguished voice was filled with disbelief. “We're not connected anymore.”

“Oh no!” Lauren dug her hands into his back. “Donovan…They're leaving without us.”

Across the waves, on the tiny deck of the
Atlantic Star
, Michael was struggling with Carl. Donovan watched as Simmons threatened to pull Michael into the ocean. The huge man had a
death grip on Michael's leg as he tried in vain to pull his bulk up onto the sub. Brent was now on the deck and had joined in the efforts to free Michael.

Donovan silently urged them to start pulling them toward the
Atlantic Star
. A second later Graff appeared in the hatchway. He joined the fray and locked his arms around Michael just before the pilot was pulled into the water. Simmons lost his grip on Michael and locked his huge hand around Graff's leg. The submariner tried in vain to twist away. A second later, a single shot rang out across the waves as Brent ended the conflict. Carl's lifeless body rolled over and drifted silently from the sub.

“Oh my, God.” Lauren gripped Donovan even tighter. “Brent killed him!”

Graff reached up from the main hatch and helped Brent subdue a now frantic Michael. With one last effort, Michael tried to free himself; grab the rope connected to Donovan and Lauren. But Brent and Graff forced Michael down into the sub, then climbed inside. Above the roar of the storm, Donovan heard the sharp metallic clang of the hatch as it swung shut. The next wave blocked his view, but Donovan knew they'd run out of time. As promised, Graff was submerging.

Lauren sobbed into Donovan's shoulder. “You were never supposed to be here. Oh God, Donovan. We're both going to die.”

Donovan held her tightly as they rode up the next swell. The sub was gone. They'd started their dive, and Lauren's body shuddered in his arms. There weren't any words to refute her statement. They were going to die.

“I'm so sorry.” Lauren buried her face in his shoulder. “I wanted Abigail to know her father. I'm so sorry.”

Donovan heard Helena's terrifying shriek as the vertical mass of the eye wall grew closer. The roar of the thunder was almost non-stop. In the rolling black clouds tentacles of lightning spread out in the spiraling storm. Donovan closed his eyes and
gave in to the storm; there was no use in trying to swim away from the inevitable. He drifted back to when he was 14—the typhoon that had killed his parents had for some reason spared him. Now Mother Nature had come full circle. After all these years, she'd finally caught him back in the water. For Lauren's sake he hoped the end was quick. He prayed she'd go first. He knew all about drifting alone in the ocean, and if she could be spared that agony, even for a few minutes, he could die easy.

“I do love you,” Lauren whispered into his ear. She too eyed the crushing wall of weather. She wondered if they would die from the wrath of Helena, or in the single instant when the sky grew brighter than the sun. “I love you so much.”

Donovan felt the warmth of tears flood his eyes. He'd stopped swimming. They were bobbing in the ocean, the single life jacket wrapped around them. A strange peace came over him. Erin could write her story; it wouldn't matter now. He knew William would act decisively. Abigail would be well cared for.

Lauren lifted her head and put her cheek on Donovan's. “Her last name is Nash. I did give her that,” Lauren confessed. “Abigail Nash.”

Donovan pulled back to gaze into Lauren's eyes. “Her last name is Huntington. Abigail Huntington. My real name is Robert.”

Lauren's brow creased as she looked into his face. She'd heard the words but they didn't make sense.

“Donovan, what are you saying?”

“A long time ago I left one life for another. My family name is Huntington.”

Confusion filled Lauren's lovely face.

“She'll be well taken care of.”

“Oh, Donovan. No.” Lauren's eyes grew wide as she finally connected the names. “Costa Rica…Meredith Barnes…Oh my God!”

Donovan nodded.

“Who was Elizabeth?”

“Elizabeth was my mother. I finally had her remains brought to Virginia, to a house I own out in the country. The woman you saw me with was William's niece. He raised me after my parents were killed. I'm so sorry.”

“Why couldn't you tell me?” Lauren slumped at the revelation. “I thought you were married. I left you and you could have easily stopped me. Why?”

The first breath of a breeze brushed against Donovan's face. High above them the eye wall relentlessly drew closer.

“To protect you.” Donovan watched as Lauren felt the wind also. She turned to look up as Helena bore down on them. “After Meredith was murdered, I fled the media…and my life. I became Donovan Nash. I never told you, because I always feared the same thing could happen all over again. It's a secret I've never told anyone.”

“Oh Donovan,” Lauren held him tighter. “I'm so sorry I doubted you.”

Donovan closed his eyes and breathed her in, as the precious seconds of his remaining life ticked away in his head. Rain began falling from the sky. The first drops hit his face. Without warning, Lauren suddenly stiffened in his arms.

“Donovan look out!” Lauren screamed.

Donovan twisted to look as a huge black object erupted from the ocean behind them. A giant black cylinder breached the surface and crashed heavily into a huge wave. Spray exploded into the air and the object momentarily vanished. Slowly, a conning tower materialized from the geyser of water. Donovan held his breath as the massive black object swayed and righted itself under the onslaught of the hurricane. In seconds, hatches flew open, and men came bursting out onto the deck, searching the water. In the fading light of the approaching storm, the
Cyrillic markings on the submarine were clearly visible.

“Swim, Lauren. Swim!” Donovan yelled and began to kick with all his might toward the Russian submarine. He felt his own efforts matched by Lauren as together they struggled against the wind and rain. The eye wall was nearly upon them. Helena's fury peppered Donovan's face with the sting of wind-driven rain; it felt like buckshot on his exposed skin.

“Here! We're here!” Donovan's screams were joined with Lauren's.

He feared their cries were being swept away by the steadily rising wind. In the noise and chaos of the hurricane, Donovan pulled the orange life vest from Lauren. He kicked to keep them both afloat as he waved the brightly colored material in the air. They were going under when something solid stung his neck. With all his force, he grabbed the line and looped the rope first around his hand, then Lauren. In seconds, they were being propelled through the water. Donovan held Lauren as they were pulled to the surface, gasping for air. Moments later, strong hands clutched them, hauling them up onto the ice-cold metal deck.

Donovan looked gratefully into the anxious faces of the sailors. The men shouted orders in Russian…lines were discarded into the heaving water. There was no time to retrieve them. Heavy wool blankets were thrown around him and Lauren, and they were whisked off toward an open hatch. Donovan reached for Lauren's hand as they collapsed against a heavy iron bulkhead and sank to the solid floor of the submarine. The sailors quickly battened down the opening and helped them to their feet.

“This way, quickly,” one of the sailors said in heavily accented English. “We are going to dive now.”

Donovan shook his head in disbelief. His saw his own expression of shock and profound relief mirrored on Lauren's face.

“This way,” the sailor urged, then ushered them into a larger room.

Equipment panels lined both walls. A myriad of lights glowed in the semi-dark room. Donovan knew by the periscope that they'd been brought to the control room.

“Captain Nash. Dr. McKenna. I am Captain Viktor Zirnov. Welcome aboard the submarine
Voronesh
.” The short, tank of a man called their names in perfect English. He nodded at them, then turned and issued a series of orders in Russian. He spun and stared at a panel. An instant later, several lights flashed from red to green and Zirnov shouted the order to dive.

“You may want to brace yourselves.” Zirnov turned to face Donovan and Lauren, as he himself reached out and held on to a handle.

Donovan leaned over and kissed Lauren's forehead as the floor of the submarine began to tilt under their feet. The force of gravity caused him to grip the pipe harder. He caught Zirnov's eye.

“I take it you know about the bomb?” Donovan asked.

Zirnov nodded, then looked over at a large chronograph. “We still have four minutes.”

“There's another sub,” Donovan explained. “It has to be at least 600 feet deep to survive the explosion. Do you know where it is?”

“Yes. We have it on sonar.” Zirnov quickly spoke in Russian to two men seated at the sonar station. They replied to Zirnov's words.

“They are not capable of diving as fast as we are,” Zirnov translated. “They will only be at 400 feet when the bomb goes off.”

“Oh, no,” Lauren gasped. Several of the crew glanced at the captain with concerned expressions on their young faces. She looked at Donovan.

“What was their concern?” Zirnov asked. “Their hull should be able to resist the pressure wave from the detonation.”

“It wasn't that.” Donovan thought back to Graff's explanation.
“It was the acoustic shock. The designer was worried that the acrylic windows might not react well with the sound waves transmitted through the water. He thought that by diving below 600 feet, they could take advantage of the thermocline…”

“…which might deflect most of the sound waves.” Lauren finished his sentence.

Lauren turned to Zirnov. “I'm assuming this vessel is shock hardened. Would it be possible to position this sub on top of the other one? Would your hull work to shield the
Atlantic Star
from the acoustic shock?”

Zirnov immediately barked a string of orders to his crew. The control room was a flurry of activity. The sloping deck under Donovan's feet twisted to the right.

“Clever woman.” Zirnov gave Lauren a wry smile. “Your reputation is well-deserved.”

“How did you know we were out there?” Donovan couldn't stand the mystery any longer. “How could you have known any of this?”

“On the contrary, Captain Nash. Our two governments have been in contact since this plan was revealed to us. My government is in full support of trying to destroy this hurricane.”

“But.” Donovan didn't know what to say. “How did you know we were in the water? Why did you risk surfacing?”

“One moment, Captain Nash.” Zirnov walked over and peered over the shoulder of the sonar operator. Without looking up, he issued another series of commands. The deck of the
Voronesh
began to level. Zirnov looked up at the clock, a worried expression flashing across his face.

“Can we get there in time?” Donovan asked, quietly.

Zirnov frowned at Donovan, then issued another series of orders. In the confines of the control room, crewmen spoke back and forth with what sounded like a growing urgency.

“Oh Donovan.” Lauren squeezed him, as she too waited.

“It's going to be close.” Zirnov turned to them after listening to his sonar operator give bearing and distance.

Donovan had no idea where they were in relation to the tiny sub, or how long until the bomb went off above them. He silently urged the men around him to somehow get there in time.

Zirnov asked for a report. Beside him his second in command began to count down from ten. Zirnov looked at Donovan and translated the numbers to English. The two sailors at the sonar station removed their headsets and placed their hands over their ears, as did the rest of the crew.

Not knowing what to expect, Donovan and Lauren followed suit. The main lights flickered briefly and the control room was bathed in an eerie red glow. Each person stood silent and looked upward in the direction of the explosion. Moments later, the submarine shuddered. It sounded as if a giant sledgehammer had struck the hull. Donovan winced. Even with his ears covered, the deafening metallic sound resonated sharply through the confined quarters. The overhead lights came back on and Zirnov looked up from the screen, a wary expression on his face.

“The other sub?” Donovan questioned.

Zirnov looked at the men seated at the sonar station. They were putting their earphones back on and adjusting their equipment. One turned and spoke to Zirnov.

“Still making a lot of noise in the water. Their signature is as it was before,” Zirnov announced, triumphantly. “I believe we were in time.”

Donovan and Lauren hugged and kissed in front of Zirnov and the others.

“I believe you asked me a question.” Zirnov walked over to where Donovan and Lauren stood. He turned and addressed his crew in Russian, then turned to them both. “Allow me to shake the hand of the hero who saved our submarine comrades in the Arctic. We as a group owe you our profound thanks.”

Donovan warmly shook Zirnov's outstretched hand. He saw a genuine look of gratitude in the captain's eyes. The sailors in the control room all voiced a unanimous agreement and issued a respectful salute.

“I still don't understand how you knew we were in the water.”

“We had just arrived when we intercepted a desperate radio call from the other submarine. Someone was pleading with your B-1 bomber to give them time to retrieve you. Their calls went unheeded. I doubt very much their transmissions penetrated the storm. When I learned it was you in the water, I made the decision to surface.”

Donovan leaned back against the wall. “It must have been Michael on the radio before they dove. But why were you even in the area? Surely you were ordered away along with our submarines.”

“This is an Oscar class, nuclear powered missile submarine,” Zirnov said, proudly. “We operate independently. Not even our government knows exactly where we are at any given moment. We received an urgent flash message about the damaged airplane and the planned rescue attempt. I believe someone by the name of William VanGelder contacted our embassy in Washington. They in turn contacted Moscow. My superiors suggested we try to assist. They had no idea if we could arrive in time, so nothing was said to your government.”