The Bear

The North Sea

“All ahead slow.”

“All ahead slow aye.”

“Bring her to periscope depth.”

The USS Columbus, a boat used to the touch of warm Pacific waters, within minutes slipped to its ordered depth below the dark waves just below the Arctic Circle.

“Up scope.”

The hydraulics pushed the periscope silently above the surface of the North Sea. The only trace of their presence was a light foam, lost in a turbulent night as the mast cut through the black water. Captain Dawson watched the monitors as the scope made its sweep. Long gone were the days of flipping down handles and peering with a backwards cap into a mirrored tube. Such was the stuff of movies. He could still do that if he wanted, but he could see better this way.

The communications mast was raised and retreated back into the boat in less than a minute. The captain of the boat leaned against the rail as he waited for the decoding. It would take less than two minutes for the equipment on board one of the most sophisticated warships in the world to decipher the message. Dawson picked up the mike, bringing it to his lips.

“XO to the conn.” He slipped the mike back down into its cradle as the communications officer turned in his seat.

“Sir.”

“Thanks.” Dawson took the paper just as Tull stepped into the conn and held it up. “Just came in.”

“What’s it say?”

The captain was quiet for a moment as he scanned the sheet. He looked up and extended his arm toward his XO. Tull nodded as he reached for the orders.

“Are they serious? Inside Danish territorial waters?”

“They do get mighty touchy about boats in their space,” Dawson said as he turned to give the coordinates to the dive officer. “Best speed Chums.”

“Aye sir.” Ensign Charlie ‘Chums’ Rose began the plot, entering the coordinates into the nav computers.

“You thought I was going to make you do this one on paper, didn’t you Chums?”

“No sir. Not this one. This isn’t just an exercise. This one’s important.”

“They’re all important, Chums.”