The Bear

Day Twelve USS Columbus SSN 762

“Sir, flash message on ELF.”

“Bring her up to surface depth. Let’s get the full story.”

“Con, come to periscope depth.”

“Periscope depth. Con aye.”

The USS Columbus took the next five minutes to come to communications depth. A Los Angeles class 688 boat, the Columbus was one of the newer of the old girls. Try as they might, there still wasn’t a better attack boat in the world. It had depth and range and an array of weapons nearly unmatched in the silent world of darkness. She was an updated 688 with vertical launch tubes, making her capable of firing Tomahawk cruise missiles. But even with those, these boats were showing their age. Many had been retired with an eye on the new Virginia class boats in production. But they were still the workhorse of the fleet.

Sliding down the narrow corridor, the seaman knocked gently on the captain’s door.

“Come.”

“Sir, heading to the surface to receive a message.”

“Very well. Have Commander Tull brief me when done.”

“Aye sir.” Seaman first class Nathan Ricks closed the door quietly and slipped back to his station in the control room as the Columbus reached its depth.

“Con makes periscope depth, sir.”

“Raise the mast.”

The hum of the motor throughout the control room lasted just seconds as the UHF antenna pushed its way through the ocean’s surface from the sail. The array of communications gear on the boat was staggering. They could communicate from anywhere around the world, including beneath the arctic world encased in ice. The UHF antenna was the best method to quickly receive both voice and data messages. The encrypted file was received within seconds and the mast immediately dropped.

“Let me know when you have it decoded, Flip.”

“Aye sir.”

Ensign Philip ‘Flip’ Morse took the message and keyed it into his cypher controls. Everything was electronic. He’d read about the old days when communications officers used code books to decipher messages. It took several minutes or longer to break down each one. Now, he had it in seconds. He made a note in the margin and turned to hand it off but the XO was already gone. He was quickly out of his seat and down the corridor to the captain’s cabin. He’d be there.

Lt. Commander Hector Tull stood across from his captain who was seated on his bunk. He scanned the decoded message before looking up.

“Well? Do we go home or what?”

“It’s an ‘or what’ sir,” he said with a grin. “We’ve been ordered to disengage from the training exercise.”

“And do what?” Captain Cleve Dawson leaned back, unhappy at the news.

“We’ve been ordered to precede to coordinates 57 North, 8 East.”

“Where the hell is that?”

“It’s the North Sea, sir.”

“Where?”

“Denmark.”

“Go on,” Captain Dawson replied.

“You are hereby ordered to coordinates Fifty Seven Zero Zero North Lattitude by Zero Eight Zero Zero East Longitude. Await further orders. CINCUSATLFLT”

“From the big boss himself.” Dawson’s eyes widened. “I wonder why us? We don’t even belong to this group.” Dawson raised himself from his bunk and stepped to the dresser. He looked in the tiny mirror and ran his hands over his face. He was tired, but more so, he was sick. The flu-like bug he had picked up was beginning to get to him. He’d tried to keep himself away from most of the men, but that was a difficult task on board a submarine.

“We are the northern-most boat in this exercise. Perhaps it’s the luck of the draw.”

“But we’re a Pacific Fleet boat. If is wasn’t for this joint exercise, we’d be sitting pretty in Pearl right about now.” Dawson ran his fingers through his dark hair and spun, resting his elbows on the dresser. “Besides, if the shoe was on the other foot, wouldn’t CINCPAC want to give the credit to their own boat?”

“It must be pretty important if they’re giving this to us.”

“Well, maybe it’s just common sense.”

“Sir?”

“We’re still the best boat in this exercise, Commander. There’s a reason they brought us all the way over here from the warm Pacific. Gotta help these poor Atlantic bastards out.” Captain Dawson reached out and took the paper from his exec’s hands and briefly scanned the order. “Let’s get underway, Commander.”

“Aye sir.”