Arctic Gambit

7 DISCOVERY

The data Jimmy Carter’s crew brought back had been a revelation, critically important to many people, but taking them in several different directions.

Navy officialdom was occupied with deciding how much to tell Toledo’s families, without telling them too much. The civilian leadership was trying to figure out what Toledo’s loss told them about what was happening on Bolshevik Island. And James Perry’s job was to answer the pressing question of why the Russians were going to such great lengths to build a shore installation for a weapon that needed to be launched at sea.

In strategic terms, the Status-6 was slow, even slower than a manned bomber, and about as non-covert as a weapon could be. Its only strength was its virtual invulnerability once it was launched. That made it an excellent retaliatory or second-wave weapon. Whatever the strength of America’s ballistic missile defenses, now or in the future, they couldn’t touch a torpedo that swam at a hundred knots a thousand meters deep.

But putting it in a fixed launch site offered few advantages, and took away its greatest strength. Because Perry didn’t believe the Russians were blindingly stupid, he was determined to find out why they thought this basing concept was necessary.

The photos Carter had brought back provided a vital clue. One of the shots showed a section of pipe, more accurately a large cylinder, being handled by a crane. A junior analyst who worked for him, and who should have known better, had stated in a report that the tube’s size was “consistent with a Status-6 torpedo.” This was supported by a hatch on one end that could be used to load a weapon, and “different pipe fittings and connections that could be part of the launch mechanism.”

Perry had summoned the analyst and chewed her out — politely but firmly. Exactly how big was the cylinder? Standard photogrammetric techniques could tell her that. What was it made of? Steel? Titanium? If steel, what kind of alloy could it be made of? Was a standard-sized industrial product used for this task, or a custom-built military component? That would help them track down the manufacturer. What could the fittings on the end be used for?

He understood she’d been under tremendous time pressure, but an intelligence analyst’s job, especially right now, was to give the president every scrap of information possible. His job was to fit those scraps together into a coherent hypothesis, if he could, or generate more questions to help refine the analysis if he couldn’t.

Her revised report, delivered the next afternoon, had estimated the cylinder’s dimensions as two meters in diameter and twenty-eight meters long. Fuzzy close-ups of the fittings had identified possible air and hydraulic lines and probable electrical connections. According to the metallurgical experts she’d contacted, the tube was probably constructed from standard structural steel. No special alloys would be needed in this application. The fabrication methods required to construct such a cylinder were equally conventional.

A little disappointed, Perry had been hoping to get clues about the thing by locating the manufacturer, but without some unique feature, that was going to take a while. Still, it was a much better report than the earlier one, and every bit of information could be useful. Everyone said so, anyway.

The dimensions in her report matched his own back-of-the-envelope figures, but they bothered him a little. A Status-6 torpedo was 1.6 meters in diameter. The cylinder was close to two meters. The weapon was twenty-four meters long, while the cylinder was twenty-eight meters.

What was all that extra space for? Conventional twenty-one-inch torpedoes fit neatly in a twenty-one-inch torpedo tube with only a fraction of an inch clearance around it and a foot or two separation from the muzzle door. In fact, the weapon had to fill the space inside the torpedo tube, or it wouldn’t launch properly.

So why did they need the extra half meter in diameter and four meters of additional length? The only thing he’d ever heard of going into a tube with the torpedo was the dispenser that carried some of the guidance wire. The Status-6 was definitely not wire-guided. Was their estimate of the Status-6’s size incorrect? It was possible, but not very likely.

He spent several hours going through everything he had on the Russian wonder weapon, comparing its size to the subs that carried it and the engineering analysis that had been done. There was even a cutaway drawing, based on the now famous November 2015 “leak” of the Status-6, engineered by the Russians.

Perry grunted with satisfaction; earlier analysis still checked out. But that didn’t help him explain what was going on now.

His next stop was the original HUMINT reports that had triggered the creation of the Tensor compartment. It was actually a cluster of three short messages. The first described an improved model of the Status-6 land-attack torpedo. The second mentioned Bolshevik Island and said that they were adapting the weapon for shore-based launch. The third reaffirmed the launch facility location and reiterated that the weapon would be much improved.

But what were the improvements? Perry wished the source had provided more details, but dismissed his feelings of frustration. He couldn’t imagine what it was like for someone to do what the spy did; not just for a moment, or for a short time, but for weeks, months, perhaps even years. Perry knew he couldn’t live with that kind of never-ending risk. That the U.S. knew about this project at all was a miracle.

The spy’s three messages had been decoded, and then translated. The printout that Perry held displayed the original message in Russian, and then repeated it twice, first translated into English, and then a transliteration of the original Cyrillic.

“Improved.” Perry’s Russian was pretty bad, but he could follow along, comparing the English and Russian text. The word for “improved” in Russian was “uluchshen,” and the spy had used that word in the first message. In the third message, though, they’d translated “bolshaya” as “improved.” One of the meanings for bolshaya was “better,” but others included “greater, major, larger, massive,” and “big.” Had the translator been thinking about the first two messages when he worked on the third? Was the improvement a “larger” torpedo?

His mind asked again, But what improvements? The thing didn’t need to go any deeper or faster, and in both cases smaller was better. Its range was already ridiculously long. A bigger warhead, perhaps? Perry thought a twenty-plus megaton blast was quite big enough, thank you very much.

Perry rubbed his eyes; a larger size wasn’t sufficient to justify being called an improvement all by itself. Something had changed, requiring the increased size. And that would, in turn, require a larger launch tube, which meant it wouldn’t fit aboard the Khabarovsk-class subs or Belgorod. He’d just checked both subs’ specifications for the third time. Hell, the torpedo wouldn’t even fit in the missile tubes of the massive Typhoon!

It would take years to design a new submarine to carry the larger torpedoes, and many more years to build them. The new sub design might carry fewer weapons, but it would probably be much larger, and more costly. In that sense, a shore installation would be cheaper, and allow the weapon to be placed in service much more quickly.

Perry sighed. He had to write a daily report on his progress. Luckily, he was supposed to keep it short. DNI Peakes was a busy man.

“It is likely that the weapon to be deployed at the Prima site is larger than the Status-6 torpedo, with approximate dimensions of about 1.9 meters in diameter and 27 meters in length, compared with 1.6 meters and 24 meters for the first weapon. This increase in size may be required by a new payload, since an increase in speed or range is not necessary to accomplish its mission and are inconsistent with the change in dimensions.”

It wasn’t much, and after a moment’s consideration, Perry added, “This does not answer the question of the weapon’s vulnerability when fired from a shore installation. We will continue to search for this, as well as details of possible improvements being made to the Status-6 design.”

Commander Russ Chatham shook his head and laid the draft back on his boss’s desk. “Why do we have to decide what the Navy will say? Isn’t this Public Affairs’s territory?” he complained.

“Public Affairs will say whatever CNO tells them to say,” RADM Mike Sanders replied. “Our intel shop knows the most of anyone in the Navy about this issue. And we have to determine what’s best to say in any case. It’s simpler if we draft the release. I don’t want to brief a bunch of PAO types into a compartment just so they can screw up the story.”

Sanders continued, “Besides, my recommendation is ‘Nothing.’ As far as the rest of the world, and most of the Navy, is concerned, we’re still looking for Toledo.”

“But that keeps the families waiting.”

“And that’s on me,” Sanders admitted sadly. “I’ll take the karmic hit. Hopefully it won’t be for very long, just until we figure out what the Russians are up to.” He shook his head. “Nope. We can’t say anything, because as soon as the Navy announces Toledo’s been found, we’ll have to tell them how and where. No half measures.”

Sanders held up one finger. “First, we’d have to announce that Toledo’s loss was caused by an external event, otherwise we would be required to investigate a material fault or personnel error that doesn’t exist. That would be a major waste of time and effort, and disrespectful to the crew.” Another finger went up. “Second, the only external cause that anyone will accept is a weapon of some type hitting her. There are no sea monsters or other navigational hazards in that area.”

As he put up the third finger, he continued, “And we can’t tell an obvious falsehood and say the weapon was somehow left over from World War II, because it will take about five minutes for someone to check the records and announce there were never any mines laid up there during the war.

“And that’s just the ‘how,’” Sanders explained. “The ‘where’ will really put the wind up the Russians’ skirts. They’ll flood the area with patrols, maybe even more minefields, and we’ll never get a good look at that Russian whatchamacallit.”

Chatham grimaced at Sanders’s last point; he’d been worried about that particular issue. “Admiral, I’m not certain the Russians don’t feel a breeze up their rears already. Carter’s arrival at Groton has to have been noticed.”

“I know, Russ, I’ve been thinking about that too. We’ll have to come up with a convincing story to explain her presence, but just saying she’s here to help look for Toledo is pretty damn flimsy. We’ll have to be more convincing.”

“Is this the best the intelligence community can come up with?” President Hardy demanded. “‘It’s larger, and may have a different payload’ is not good enough.”

“He’s still digging, Mr. President,” Raymond Peakes replied. A thin man, with equally thin hair combed straight back, the director of national intelligence sounded defensive, and he added, “Dr. Perry is very good at this. He’s methodical, but even more, he’s good at filling in the gaps.”

“But is he quick?” the president asked. “The Russians are building something and we don’t know what it is, or when it will be finished. The public and the families are waiting for us to release more information about Toledo’s loss. Time is passing, Ray, and the problem is, I won’t know when it’s too late.”

Joanna Patterson, sitting next to Hardy, asked, “Do we know anything about the Russians’ timeline, Lowell?”

Peakes was still getting used to the first lady being present at Oval Office briefings. Anybody who knew Dr. Patterson knew she wasn’t going to settle for just tea parties and civic causes, but the Tensor material was more than sensitive. Still, she was here, she had retained her clearances, and it was a good question.

Hardy nodded to Peakes, who answered, “They’ll have to stop work by the end of September. After that, the weather gets a lot worse and the ice starts closing in again.”

Evangeline McDowell, Hardy’s secretary, knocked and opened the door. “Mr. President, everyone, Director Jacobson and Dr. Perry are on their way over right now. They say they have ‘new information.’ They should be here in about thirty minutes.”

“Thank you, Evangeline,” replied Hardy with a look of encouragement. “Maybe now we can get to the bottom of this mess.”

Half an hour later, McDowell led Perry and Jacobson, the director of central intelligence, into the Oval Office. The two walked quickly over to the assembly, recently joined by National Security Advisor Hyland and White House Chief of Staff Sellers. Dressed sharply, Jacobson was calm and collected; his long slow gait rapidly chewed up the distance.

Perry, by contrast, was his complete opposite. Almost at a jog to keep up because of his short stature, he was clearly excited and looked more like a stereotypical hermit scholar. He entered clutching a locked briefcase and his sport coat with both hands. Customary dress at the White House was, at the very least, coat and tie. And while Perry remembered to bring his sport coat, he hadn’t remembered to put it on. It was obvious his mind was elsewhere.

“Good evening, George, Dr. Perry,” Hardy welcomed. “What do you have for us?”

“And to you, Mr. President,” replied Jacobson as he nodded to the other attendees. “My apologies for this brash entrance, but after Dr. Perry burst into my office an hour ago with his latest findings, I figured time was of greater concern than protocol. Dr. Perry, please explain.”

The analyst faced the group, but looking directly at Hardy, Perry announced, “It is a different payload, Mr. President. Very different.”

Peakes looked at him quietly for a moment before ordering him calmly, “All right, James. Please sit down and tell us what you’ve found.”

Perry realized he was still holding his sport coat, and slipped it on before sitting down on a small couch next to Peakes. Hardy, Patterson, and Secretary Richfield sat on the opposite couch, with a small table between them. Hyland and Sellers stood behind them.

“I asked myself, ‘How do you improve the Status-6?’ It’s virtually invulnerable once it’s launched. It’s got more range than it needs, and to make it faster, you’d be fighting the cube law. If anything, it should be smaller. I did some rough calculations, and the new version’s larger size actually isn’t big enough to hold a nuclear power plant with enough moxie to give an appreciable increase in speed. At the very best, we’re talking about a three-knot increase.”

Perry paused for just a moment, but nobody interrupted him. “That left the warhead, but an even bigger nuclear warhead doesn’t give you much either. The cube law again.”

He opened his briefcase and passed out sheets of paper to the president, SecDef, and the DNI. He’d only brought three, and Joanna looked on with Hardy. The others hovered over Peakes.

The single page showed a drawing of a needle-like missile, with a similar shape, much smaller, circled in a satellite photo. Provisional statistics were listed below.

“This is the Tsitrin missile. It means ‘citrine’ in Russian. They’ve been naming their missiles after minerals,” he added. “We’ve seen tests at the Nyonoska Test Range on the Kola Peninsula for some time. It’s a hypersonic weapon. We’ve watched it fly at Mach six, and it’s big enough to carry a one-hundred-and-fifty-kiloton nuclear device with an estimated range of over four hundred miles.”

Hardy nodded. “I remember being briefed on it. Scary. But what makes you think this is the new warhead — I mean, payload — for the torpedo?”

“The Tsitrin missile is very large — too large for either a submarine torpedo tube or the UKSK vertical launcher on Russian warships and submarines. The accepted wisdom was that the Russians were going to develop a new launch platform for it, probably a submarine, but the scramjet propulsion system is risky technology. We judged they wouldn’t start the design until the missile’s hypersonic engine had been thoroughly tested.

“Well, it’s pretty late in the missile’s test program, which it is passing, and we’re not seeing anything being fitted out as a test bed. Typically, you take an existing platform, ship, plane, or sub, and modify it so you can proceed to launch trials. This time? Nothing.”

“And this fits in the new torpedo?” Richfield asked.

“Yes, sir, rather neatly,” Perry confirmed smugly. “We know how much of the Status-6 was taken up by the nuclear warhead. Add four meters to that and make the torpedo a little fatter and it matches the dimensions of the Tsitrin missile, nine meters, plus its launch canister. And the available space doesn’t match the dimensions of any other missile in the Russian inventory, or under development.”

Hardy sat back on the sofa with a whoosh as he exhaled. “So this improved torpedo will be able to approach the coast, and then launch a very, very fast missile that can reach over four hundred miles inland…”

Richfield, punching a calculator, reported, “At Mach six, it could reach maximum range in about six minutes. A more typical flight time might be four or five minutes.” He shrugged helplessly. “Even if we knew exactly where it would be launched, we don’t have anything that could stop it. We could build a radar able to track it, but we’d also need a new missile system that could hit it, and we’d have to line both coasts with radars and launchers.”

“But it’s still a second-strike weapon,” Patterson insisted. She took the paper from Hardy and put it on the table in front of her, as if rejecting the idea. “It wouldn’t be used until after a nuclear exchange between us and Russia. This makes a big expensive weapon even bigger and more expensive. Why go to so much trouble?”

Perry responded, “Exactly, ma’am. And it still doesn’t explain how they expect to keep the Prima base from being destroyed immediately, in the first exchange. This weapon isn’t like a missile; it takes some time to start up the nuclear reactor and bring it to max power before you launch it. Unless the launch facility was very well hardened, which would be another added expense, and a considerable one, it would never get a chance to leave its tube. And the more dangerous they make this thing, the more missiles we’ll devote to giving it a quick and violent end.”

Patterson shuddered. “So we know more, but we don’t know enough to do anything.”

Peakes turned to face the analyst. “This is good work, James. But we need you to be good again, and figure out why the Russians think the Prima station won’t get nuked right away.”

Hardy nodded agreement. “Yes, well done. There’s a lot riding on this, Dr. Perry. And it would really help if you found the answer quickly.”

With the “Big Skipper” interested in a fast answer, Dr. Perry’s shop had been authorized to use any resource within the government, and their requests had top priority. While Perry couldn’t call on an infinite number of monkeys, he hoped there were enough for at least one act from Shakespeare. In fact, he’d be grateful for a sonnet.

The U.S. wasn’t the only military fascinated by shiny new stuff. The Russians seemed to also like dealing from the advanced-technology deck, so Perry spent the morning requesting a search of Russian scientific literature going back five years, which was about when he judged the idea of an improved Status-6 might have formed in the Russian leadership.

He also ordered a survey of all known weapon test sites, especially those connected with strategic or nuclear weapons, and finally, all possible submarine design houses for new programs or work to modify the Khabarovsk-class. One possible scenario that Perry had thought of was that the Russians were just in a tremendous hurry to deploy the new weapon. They might even make a demonstration launch to prove the credibility of the improved weapon as a deterrent. It actually was going to be sea-based, but the first submarine fitted with them was at least a decade away from sailing.

Perry was trying to think of more searches when someone said, “Excuse me,” from the open door to his office. An older gentleman with a lined face and snow-white hair stood at the door. “Dr. Perry, I’m George Ryskov, from the Office of Science and Technology. I don’t think we’ve ever spoken.”

Perry almost leapt out of his seat to shake Ryskov’s hand and offer him a chair. Dr. George Ryskov wasn’t just from the Office of Science and Technology. He was the office’s chief scientist, and almost legendary throughout the agency. He had actually been considered for a Nobel Prize in physics some time back. He also had a gift for languages, and spoke several Slavic languages fluently. He knew more about Russian scientific research than anyone on this side of the Atlantic. Stunned, Perry could only wonder what the chief scientist wanted.

Ryskov sat down carefully and said amiably, “Several of my people are afflicted with flaming hair, evidently ignited by high-priority requests from you.”

“I’m afraid so, Doctor,” Perry admitted. “It’s straight from the top, and…”

“I saw the requirement, and I’m willing to do whatever my office can to help. But the smoke is a distraction. I may have a more efficient search method.”

Surprised, all Perry could do was agree. “By all means, sir. What do you suggest?”

The scientist smiled. “Let’s talk for a little while about this new weapon. I’ve seen your analysis of the new payload, and it’s quite insightful. Adding a missile is an impressive increase in the Status-6’s capability. But apparently you believe that the Russians have made other changes to the weapon as well?”

Nodding, Perry replied, “We have to find out why the Russians would build a launch site on the ocean floor for a weapon that really needs to be fired from a submarine.”

“A very secret launch site,” Ryskov added darkly. “They could have chosen many places that are far less remote and where the weather is much more favorable for underwater construction. Construction that would have undoubtedly proceeded much more quickly, and the launch site could very well have been finished by now.”

He paused for a moment, then continued, “That is what first struck me when I heard about this entire business. The remote location. The minefield. The Russians do not want anyone to know what they are doing. They had every reason to believe that they could complete the launch site and deploy this weapon before we were aware of its existence. They may still believe that. Without a certain ‘special resource,’ we would have been caught completely by surprise. This improved torpedo is a ‘secret weapon,’ in the classic sense,” he concluded.

“Well, it won’t be secret once it’s launched,” Perry countered. “Any scenario where these things are actually used becomes surreal very quickly, but the seabed sensors we have in the GIUK gap would easily hear these things the minute they started running. It might be hard to actually destroy the base before it could fire a lot of torpedoes, but the Status-6 or this new weapon would take literally days, even at a hundred knots, to reach a target here in the continental USA.”

Ryskov nodded. “I cannot imagine a scenario where Russia telegraphs a strategic nuclear attack days in advance. This also highlights the question of their remote location, which with its increased distance actually increases our warning time. The Russians don’t appear to be concerned with how long it takes to reach its destination, or how much warning we may get.”

Perry’s expression changed from puzzlement to realization. “Because the new weapon won’t provide any warning. You don’t think we’re going to hear them,” Perry stated flatly.

“One possibility — maybe the most likely one, given their choice of location, is that the improved torpedo is quieter than the original Status-6. We won’t hear them coming because they have found a way to radically reduce their acoustic signature.”

“New silencing technology?” Perry asked. “That makes sense. Silencing technology takes up space, hence the larger size. But wouldn’t the Russians use it on their submarines first?”

“Actually, it would be easier to implement on a smaller vehicle than a larger one, and I would submit that a strategic nuclear system has an even higher priority than general-purpose submarines. If such technology exists, we might eventually see it on strategic-missile submarines now beginning construction, but it will likely be fielded first on these torpedoes by the end of the summer.”

“That could narrow our search considerably,” Perry observed.

“Yes, it does,” Ryskov replied, smiling. “Assuming my hypothesis is correct. Since you haven’t uncovered any flaws in my logic, I should tell you that after extinguishing several small fires on my staff, I’ve directed everyone in my section to concentrate their search on quieting technologies: acoustics, materials, hydrodynamics. For example, what if you could design a nuclear reactor of that size and power output that didn’t need pumps or other supporting machinery? Or what if they’ve discovered a way to simply heat water with the reactor and expel it out the back? I know we’ve investigated those concepts ourselves in the past, but discarded them as unworkable.”

Perry grabbed a notepad. “I’ll restructure the searches I’ve already ordered. There’s always the risk we will find nothing, but it’s a good place to start.”

“And hopefully whatever you find will corroborate whatever we find.”

Knowing where to look had made all the difference. Perry was still working on his notes when Chief of Staff Sellers warned him softly, “The president is en route.”

Dr. Perry had never been at a National Security Council meeting before, but he’d picked a good one to start with. Held to provide recommendations to the president on current national security issues, it was usually chaired by the vice president, and attended only by those agencies that were involved. That typically meant an undersecretary or a department head, and empty chairs were common.

There were no empty chairs at this short-notice session, with the secretary of defense, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs, the national security advisor, Bill Hyland, and numerous intelligence officials present and looking very interested.

He saw everyone start to stand up, and turned to see President Hardy, with Secretary of State Lloyd in close formation, come in. Lloyd’s arrival caused a small delay as a seat was found for him, which then caused a ripple as the pecking order was adjusted.

The president’s seat was arm’s length from the podium where Perry stood. Some chief executives liked to be at the far end of the table, but Hardy preferred to be close to the briefer. Luckily, having spoken to him two days earlier had removed some of Perry’s jitters. Besides, he was focused on his news.

Perry’s brief was short, and he carefully avoided all mention of the original source of information — the Tensor compartment. The first slide was a diagram of the Status-6, which was familiar to most of the people in the room, but below it was the larger, modified version, with a missile in the front instead of a nuclear warhead.

The second slide showed the difference in capability, with a U.S. map marking likely coastal cities that would be targets for the first weapon, and then a colored band that ran 430 miles inland from each coast, showing how much of the continental U.S. it could reach. Perry heard a few quiet comments, but the bad news was still ahead.

“Here’s the base they will be launched from,” he said, and he put up a map showing Bolshevik Island, far to the north, and range/time circles showing how far the Status-6 could reach. It was almost certain that the new weapon would go just as far, which included the entire east coast of the United States.

“This all might seem a little academic for what our intelligence people tell us is a strategic second-strike weapon.” Heads bobbed as many nodded their understanding.

“But it’s only a second-strike weapon because the Status-6 is unbelievably noisy. It would take many hours to even reach the UK, much less our coast. We really don’t have an effective way to stop them once they are launched, but the Status-6 will never be called ‘stealthy.’”

He smiled at what seemed like a small joke, but it was a grim smile. “We have determined that the new weapon not only has a different warhead, but we believe a radically different internal structure surrounding the reactor and engine. This is the reason for the increased diameter. The reactor and propulsion turbine are, of course, the two main sources of radiated noise from the weapon. A new sheath, made of nanomaterial, completely encloses them in a structure that is very strong, but also absorbs and diffuses vibrations, which are what become noise when they reach the outer shell of the torpedo. Flow noise can be mitigated by an exterior coating and designing the propulsor properly.”

Perry paused, and checked President Hardy’s reaction. He knew Hardy’s background, and that he would understand what this meant. “We conservatively estimate the reduction will make the new torpedo about as quiet as a Russian third-generation nuclear submarine, of course while still traveling at one hundred knots. It is possible that it may be even quieter.”

Bill Hyland, the only person in the room who didn’t look surprised, nodded confirmation. “I reviewed Dr. Perry’s findings before I suggested this emergency meeting. There’s not only scientific literature describing the early stages of this acoustic metamaterial technology, but we’ve been able to locate recent upgrades and activity at an acoustic range located at a lake in Russia. They’d never test this in the open ocean, where there’s a chance they’d be observed.”

Perry could see a mixture of reactions to the new information. Hardy, who was working it out, looked thoughtful. Others were simply puzzled, but a few faces held expressions of horror or disbelief. As he turned off the flat-screen display, he could see Hardy understood, and Perry connected the dots for those who still didn’t understand.

“The Russians can launch these weapons and we will almost certainly not hear them approach. When the Tsitrin missile is launched, it will fly so fast that our air defenses won’t have time to react, and its 150-kiloton warhead will burn the heart out of any American city it strikes. State-of-the-art satellite guidance systems will place the warhead within a few meters of its intended impact point; meaning even hardened installations are vulnerable.

“As terrible as a twenty-plus megaton warhead detonating off the coast of New York or Boston sounds, this weapon is an even greater threat. The most telling case, of course, is Washington, D.C. The Status-6 torpedo could never have negotiated the Chesapeake Bay and the Potomac River to strike here. The river meanders too much and the water’s too shallow. The Dragon torpedo, with the Tsitrin missile, could put a weapon into the Oval Office or the south entrance of the Pentagon five minutes after it leaves the water off the coast.

“This new torpedo gives the Russians the ability to launch a decapitating nuclear first strike on the United States, with virtually no warning.”