Power Play

CHAPTER 13 USS MICHIGAN

“No close contacts!”

In the darkened Control Room, Murray Wilson, seated in the Captain’s chair on the Conn, listened to the Officer of the Deck’s report. He glanced at the Perivis display, a small screen relaying what the Officer of the Deck saw through the periscope. There were no lights on the horizon, which was barely discernible under the weak glow of a quarter moon.

Lieutenant Jeff Porteous completed a detailed surface and air search, examining each sector in high power. Nearby surface ships were the initial concern, ensuring a collision wasn’t imminent, then counter-detection became the primary issue, from both surface warships and military aircraft. It was counterintuitive, but there were more aircraft flying around with torpedoes — albeit smaller lightweight versions — than there were submarines.

“Sir, I’ve completed a high-power search of all quadrants. Hold no surface or air contacts.”

“Very well,” Wilson replied. “Prepare to surface.”

After Michigan surfaced, with Lieutenant Porteous still circling with his eye pressed to the periscope, Wilson ordered, “Maintain the watch below deck.”

Normal practice was to shift the Officer of the Deck to the Bridge while surfaced, but Michigan would be surfaced for only a short time.

A seaman opened the lower Bridge hatch and followed Wilson up through the sail, where Wilson opened the upper Bridge hatch. He folded down the sail clamshells — fairings pushed up before diving to seal the Bridge opening, creating a smooth surface atop the sail for hydrodynamic purposes when submerged. Wilson stepped into the Bridge cockpit, breathing in the fresh night air. He was joined by the seaman and the submarine’s First Lieutenant, who had the necessary gear for the pending transfer.

Wilson heard the faint beat of the helicopter before he saw it. It took a while for the gray aircraft to appear out of the darkness, slowing to a hover fifty feet above the stationary submarine. A moment later, the helicopter crew lowered a man toward Michigan’s Bridge. He swung in the wind as he descended, a small duffel bag attached by a lanyard swaying a few feet below him. The First Lieutenant grounded the cable to Michigan’s steel hull, shorting any electrostatic charge that had built up during the helicopter’s transit, then the seaman grabbed the duffel bag as it swung by, guiding the man into the Bridge cockpit.

“Welcome aboard Michigan,” Wilson shouted over the roar of the helicopter rotor as the man’s feet hit the deck.

The man returned the greeting as the seaman helped him out of his harness and unhooked the duffel bag. Wilson then signaled the helicopter to retrieve its cable. The helicopter pulled up and away from the submarine, its cable swaying in the wind as it turned and headed west toward Norway.

Wilson descended to the Control Room followed by the newly embarked passenger.

“Rig the Bridge for Dive,” Wilson ordered. “Prepare to Dive.”

Lieutenant Porteous acknowledged and gave the order. “Dive, Dive,” echoed throughout the submarine, followed by the iconic ooogah, ooogah diving alarm. An officer waiting in Control ascended to the Bridge to close the clamshells and secure the bridge hatches.

“Join me in my stateroom,” Wilson said to the new arrival. “It looks like we’ve got a few things to discuss.”