Fatal Thunder: A Jerry Mitchell Novel (39 page)

BOOK: Fatal Thunder: A Jerry Mitchell Novel
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“You’re right,” Jerry admitted. After taking a deep breath, he started. “Dr. Patterson, and Emily, came aboard to oversee a secret mission that involved conducting a survey of radioactive waste disposal sites on the east side of Novaya Zemlya…”

It took the American almost ten minutes to describe
Memphis
’s mission into the waters near the Russian coast, their inspection of several dump sites, and their discovery of something far more dangerous. They were pursued and fired on by Russian naval forces. Damaged, they made good their escape, and had thought themselves safe when
Gepard
suddenly appeared and almost sank them. If not for Jerry’s Manta UUV, confusing and distracting the Russian sub,
Memphis
would have been sunk. “But we never fired a weapon, Alex, we physically couldn’t,” Jerry insisted.

Petrov had remained silent, asking only an occasional question about positions and ranges, as one submarine captain explained the engagement in terms the other understood completely. There was no uncertainty in the American’s narration. No fuzzy memories or gaps in the timeline.

“For what it’s worth, Alex, I’m very sorry about
Gepard
, and she’s never been far from my memories. We did our level best to just get away, and it was really just luck that saved us.”

Petrov scowled. “Did you intend to lure that last torpedo back toward
Gepard
with the Manta?”

Mitchell shook his head sharply. “No, absolutely not! I was trying to force
Gepard
to break off by running the Manta right at her. But she was violently maneuvering at the same time. She simply zigged when I had the Manta zag … both in the wrong direction. Before we knew it, one of the torpedoes had locked on to the Manta, and followed it in. The torpedo hit
Gepard
before I even had a chance to send a course-change order.”

Petrov felt a weight lift off his chest. He’d feared Mitchell’s answers, but they weren’t what he’d expected, and his faith in his friend had been confirmed. But now his mind was whirling with the new facts, comparing and fitting together pieces that spanned more than ten years, perhaps much more than ten. How long ago had Kirichenko hidden those warheads?

“Another seventy-three lives to lay at Kirichenko’s feet,” Petrov finally observed.

“On his headstone would be better,” Jerry added. “We can only hope, but first someone has to find him.
Gepard
, all the dead in Kashmir, and how many more could there be in China?” Jerry shuddered. “I’ll do anything I can to stop
Chakra
, even if it means sinking her. This must be tearing Girish Samant apart.”

The American paused for a moment, then added, “And now I’ll ask you for a favor. If you’re satisfied with my answers, please don’t tell anyone, for just a little while longer. Please,” he entreated.

“The families…” Petrov began, but trailed off.

“This won’t be secret for much longer. Four governments are involved as major actors: the U.S., Russia, India, and China. Now the Littoral Alliance is joining in the hunt. If it doesn’t leak out soon, the whole story will be revealed once
Chakra
is stopped. My country has no interest in keeping this secret once it’s over. If you’d like, we can speak to Joanna about the best way to get the information out.”

Petrov thought about it. Realistically, he couldn’t tell anyone until
North Dakota
returned to port. After that, how would the Russian government react to him spreading this information? And concealing his source would be nearly impossible, which might cost Jerry his career. But Joanna Patterson was in a position of power to force the issue, backed by the U.S. president; perhaps she could finally get the truth out. “All right, you have my word,” Petrov agreed.

In fact, how would the Russian government react when the entire episode became public? He asked Jerry that question, and the American just scratched his head. “The world’s been going nuts over the Kashmir explosion and the idea that there really could be loose nukes. Now add a whole barge full of them, hidden in violation of an arms treaty, being used by an Indian conspiracy to severely cripple China. And we’ve got hard evidence to back up the story. Can you imagine the media feeding frenzy?”

In spite of himself, Petrov laughed. “It will be interesting watching the news shows for several weeks.”

“And the best place for us may be on this submarine, at sea, and at depth,” Jerry added, smiling, “at least until the smoke clears.” He sat up straighter. “Migawd. I’ll have to warn Emily, and my sister Clarice in Minnesota. Emily can stay on the base and away from the media, but Clarice may have to move into a convent to get any peace.”

Petrov laughed again, remembering his own close family members. He told a story about his older brother Yevgeny’s experiment with propane in the family’s tractor. Then Jerry told one involving the use of high-pressure air in cleaning a bilge, and Alex told one about how the Russian Navy had once tried to clear the snow in Murmansk—with a turboprop. They talked for hours, and only stopped when it was time for Jerry to make his next set of rounds.

Petrov napped that afternoon, and woke refreshed.

9 April 2017

1930 Local Time

Control Room, USS
North Dakota

To Samant, it was more like a movie set than a submarine control room. He and
North Dakota
’s executive officer, Lieutenant Commander Bernie Thigpen, had decided after dinner to continue work on the search plan. Samant was tired, and a full stomach had him yawning, but his mind was still alive with questions about the search: How would the new towed sonar affect
Chakra
’s ability to detect other ships and subs? But towed arrays didn’t work well in shallow water. Would Jain adjust his route to stay in deep water, even if it took longer?

As they worked, part of his mind cataloged the many differences between American and Indian submarines. The American sub’s control room was more spacious than he was used to, which was surprising because
North Dakota
was three-quarters the size of
Chakra
. The layout was different, of course, but he understood what everything did. And it amazed and frightened him. The American sub had better sensors, including the UUVs, and a far superior combat system to use the data those sensors provided. To top it off, her enlisted men were better trained. American senior petty officers were doing the same jobs as lieutenants on his submarine.

Not his sub, Samant corrected himself. Not anymore. Not even part of the Indian Navy anymore. He’d spent all afternoon telling Jerry Mitchell and the other Americans secrets that under normal circumstances would have gotten him thrown in jail. Instead, he hoped it was enough to save his country and end this nightmare.

Samant had hardened his heart to the thought of what they were doing, turning the anger he felt toward Dhankhar and Kirichenko. Even if
Chakra
was … stopped, it would still be a tragedy—just not a catastrophe. It also helped if he didn’t think about it too deeply, instead focusing on the here and now.

Using a spare display console, Thigpen had set up a series of encounters between
Chakra
and
North Dakota
, using different approach angles, depths, and acoustic conditions. According to the sonar simulation, the American boat still held an edge in good water. She was quieter, and her sensors were a little better. Another advantage that the computer couldn’t model was that
North Dakota
’s crew was familiar with her systems, while Jain and his men would still be trying to understand their new sonar’s capabilities.

Samant chided himself for thinking about
Chakra
’s new captain. He’d always been hard on his former first officer, but that was just his way of preparing the man for command—but not like this. He simply couldn’t understand why Jain had been so easily duped by Dhankhar’s plan. Samant took some small pleasure in knowing that the admiral had removed him from command because Dhankhar knew he couldn’t count on Samant to be part of the plot.

Thigpen was looking for the best place to position
North Dakota
and her reconnaissance UUVs, asking Samant questions about
Chakra
’s standard operating procedures. What speed and depth would she transit at, depending on the water conditions? Samant, at the direction of the Indian government, answered all the questions as best he could. The information would be used to a good end.

Afterward, of course, the American navy would collect whatever he told them and share it with the rest of their fleet.
Chakra
was Russian-built, and there were other Improved Akula I–class submarines in the Russian fleet. He didn’t feel any regrets about his information being used for that purpose. It was the price the Russians paid for hiding the bootleg warheads in the first place.

The hardest part of their job was to estimate the likely route that
Chakra
would take. If she hugged the Chinese coast as she moved north and east, she could hide in the noise generated by the hundreds of ships in the area, as well as the sounds made by the many life-forms that lived in coastal waters, and even the sound of waves on shore. But that made for a much longer trip and
Chakra
’s own sonar search capability would also be affected. Submariners didn’t like shallow water. It limited their options.

Besides,
Chakra
had that new towed sonar, and she couldn’t use it at all in shallow water. Samant tapped the chart near Hong Kong. It was not only the southernmost target on that list, but one of the biggest. Everyone had agreed with the U.S. intelligence community’s assessment that it was likely
Chakra
’s first destination. “He will stay in deep water as long as possible, and approach directly. It’s ten hours at fifteen knots from the deep water here until the water starts to shoal badly near the Wanshan Archipelago.” Samant shifted his finger to the southwest and tapped the wide-open entrance to the Lema Channel; the water was just a little over thirty meters deep.

“Or less than eight hours if he pushes it to twenty knots,” suggested Thigpen. “That reduces his time in shallow water leading up to the channel.”

“If he doesn’t think anyone’s watching for him,” replied Samant. “But I don’t believe Jain would be so reckless. His predisposition is to follow established procedures whenever possible. That’s just the way he is, and I reinforced this tendency through rigorous training. Jain will be cautious in his approach.”

The American XO nodded agreement. “Well, it’s the same waypoint regardless of his speed, or which of the two channels he takes. It’s a place to start.”

Having a location that
Chakra
was likely to pass through, Thigpen made some adjustments to the computer simulation to figure out what was the best search speed so their sonar would be able to detect the other sub but still cover the largest possible area. The trick was to find
Chakra
before she got to “Point X-ray.”

Samant studied the two submarines at their respective locations, in deep water off the Chinese coast. “As an experiment,” he asked, “can you change
Chakra
to her original configuration, before her towed array was upgraded?”

“Sure, no problem,” Thigpen answered. He clicked on a side menu, lowered the array’s performance, reset the simulation, and then ran the encounter again. This time,
North Dakota
detected the Indian submarine a full ten minutes earlier, with an increase in detection range of nearly four nautical miles.

Samant slowly dropped back into his chair; he’d expected an improvement, but the magnitude of the shift left him shocked. No, horrified. He asked Thigpen, “Is … is this what you remember? Was this what it was like when our submarines met before?”

Thigpen nodded soberly, but remained silent.

“I understood that the
Virginia
class were technically superior to the Akula I subs, but that much! No wonder your captain was able to beat us. With that much of an advantage, a monkey could have won.”

The American XO was silent for a moment, but then spoke carefully. “Captain Mitchell is the smartest and most imaginative officer I’ve ever served under. You should be grateful that he never intended to sink your boat…”

“I quite agree,” Samant interrupted. “It would have been a trivial exercise with this kind of superiority.”

“You’re selling my captain a little short, aren’t you sir?” Thigpen said harshly.

“No, no,” soothed Samant. “He’s a good man, and I trust him, but with this
starship
”—he swept his arm, encompassing the control room—“against my old boat, he’d have been a fool to lose.”

Thigpen’s expression went through several changes, and Samant realized that
North Dakota
’s first officer was torn between defending his captain and disagreeing with a senior officer, even if he was from a different navy. Samant said, “Please, speak freely, Commander.”

Permission to speak his mind seemed to calm the American naval officer slightly. Samant could have just as easily left him frustrated and silent. “Thank, you, sir.” Thigpen drew a short breath, and explained, “Our orders were to interfere with your attacks, which was much more difficult than just firing a torpedo to sink you. Captain Mitchell’s motives were always to prevent loss of life, and he was innovative and resourceful. Who do you think devised the operation that ended the war?”

“The nuclear blue-out was his idea?” Samant was surprised, but then vaguely recalled that Petrov had said something similar. In an attempt to stop the fighting, the Americans had taken drastic action, detonating eight nuclear weapons underwater in a pattern that had flooded the South and East China Seas with noise. The phenomenon, called “blue-out,” had lasted for days. Ship and submarine sonars were blinded, and the combatants had retreated to port. Without causing any injuries, America had imposed a cease-fire.

Samant, commanding
Chakra
, had encountered
North Dakota
as the American sub was preparing to fire two of the nuclear-tipped torpedoes that were part of the plan. Without knowing the American’s mission, Samant had done his level best to first drive off the U.S. sub, then to actually sink it. Mitchell’s sub had not only avoided his weapons, but launched the torpedoes as planned and escaped. Samant had avoided damage from the blasts only by following the American sub’s lead.

BOOK: Fatal Thunder: A Jerry Mitchell Novel
8.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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