Torpedo!

CHAPTER 10

Captain Herman Steel arrived at Admiral Brannon’s office five minutes early for the meeting Brannon had called. He looked at the ancient Timex wrist watch he wore, an irritable expression on his face as he watched Brannon’s Chief Yeoman making a pot of coffee.

“How many man-hours a year do you waste preparing that poison, Chief?” he asked in his rasping voice.

“I don’t rightly know, sir,” the Chief said. “I’d assign the job to a lower rating but the Admiral is particular about his coffee so I do it myself.” He smiled and raised a hand in greeting and Steel turned and saw Admiral Benson and Bob Wilson approaching. He turned his back on the CIA Director and his aide.

When the three men walked into Admiral Brannon’s office they found Admiral John Olsen there, sitting on one of the sofas with his long legs stretched out in front of him. Admiral Benson and Wilson took seats on the other sofa and Captain Steel chose a comfortable upholstered chair next to a coffee table.

“You’ll excuse the appearance of John and myself,” Brannon said. He rubbed a big hand over his unshaven chin. “We’ve been keeping an all-night watch here in the office. I asked you to come by because we have some information to report.” He settled back in his swivel chair. “Mr. Benson and Mr. Wilson know about some of the information but we have since learned more.” He paused.

“The Soviet submarine that attacked and sank the Sharkfin has been destroyed.” Brannon’s voice was flat, without intonation or inflection.

“The operation was carried out early this morning, local time. As soon as we received that information I called Admiral Benson and requested that he get Mr. Wilson to call his contact in Israel and have that contact inform the KGB of the action we took.” He looked at Admiral Benson, who cleared his throat.

“Mr. Wilson made contact,” Benson said. “By now the KGB knows that the Soviet submarine has been destroyed.”

“The Plain of Megiddo!” Captain Steel said in a low voice. “Armageddon!” He lunged up out of his chair, his eyes blazing.

“Knock the chip off my shoulder and I’ll smash your face in turn!” Captain Steel’s thin nostrils flared. “Do you think the Soviets will take this lying down? My God, you even used nuclear missiles! Do you think those missiles are toys to play with?”

“No.” Admiral Brannon said.

“What do we do now?” Steel said. “Do we sit here until the Soviets decide to launch a nuclear strike at us?” He raised his arms and then lowered them and turned to stare at Admiral Benson and Bob Wilson.

“And you two, what are you, puppets? You play at charades in the international theatre of nations. You cause the murder of heads of state in the name of our national security, you suborn foreign governments. My God, you’re so incompetent that you couldn’t even invade Cuba successfully!”

“That’s enough! Sit down!” Admiral Brannon’s voice, honed by years of command, cracked like a whip in the office. Captain Steel half turned, stared at Brannon and then sat down, his back rigid, his face white. Mike Brannon studied the lean, quivering figure in the chair.

“Your concern interests me,” Brannon said in a soft voice. “We are all concerned about the Soviet reaction but your concern seems to me to be something more than ours, sir.” He leaned back in his chair, his blue eyes fixed on Steel.

“We all know that if the Soviets launch a first strike nuclear attack against the United States most of our land-based nuclear missile sites will be wiped out in the first phase of the attack.

“The Navy’s ballistic missile submarines then become our major counterstrike force. We can destroy the entire Soviet Union from the sea. That’s what we have always said, what we have led our people, our allies, and the Soviet Union to believe.” Brannon came up out of his chair, his big hands resting on his desk top, his head thrust forward belligerently.

“But we know differently, don’t we, Captain Steel? We know that when I came aboard in this job three years ago morale in the nuclear submarine Navy was at point zero! We know, don’t we, you and I, that maintenance of ships and equipment was shameful, so shameful, sir, that I’d bet that half of the nuclear missiles on our submarines would not have launched! Torpedoes, Captain, torpedoes were so poorly maintained that many of them were literally frozen in their tubes, frozen there with dirt and crud!

“Your damned coddling of your nuclear school graduates split nuclear submarine crews into two camps, the nukes and the operating sailors. Morale went down to point zero. Your orders accomplished that and did even more, your orders destroyed the fundamental concepts of military discipline.” Brannon shook a thick finger at Captain Steel as Steel started to rise from his chair.

“You will hear me out, Captain. It’s taken me three years to right a good many of the wrongs you have done, wittingly or unwittingly. You fought me every step of the way, went behind my back. I have never made an issue of your opposition but I am sick of that opposition and I will have no more of it.

“There’s still a hell of a lot more work to be done before this nuclear submarine Navy of ours — ours, Captain, not yours — before it is the force it must be to be an effective deterrent.” He pushed back from his desk and sat down in his chair.

“If you want to know, Captain, one of the major factors in my decision to destroy the Soviet submarine that killed Sharkfin was the knowledge that we are not fully able to conduct an all-out nuclear war on the Soviet Union. I reasoned that by taking strong action we would convince the Soviets that we are ready. I don’t think they know the miserable condition of many of our nuclear ballistic missile submarines. I don’t think very many people know those conditions, other than the officers who command and serve on them and I issue you fair warning right now that what is said in this office in this meeting will not be told outside of this office. If it is I will destroy you without a second thought!”

Captain Steel shrank back into his chair. “Did you bring me here in front of these people to threaten me? Did you bring this nation to the brink of nuclear holocaust to get rid of me? If so, Admiral, you have made the biggest mistake of your life!”

Brannon’s eyes held Steel. “If you think that, Captain,” he said softly, “if you think that then your ego is beyond my comprehension, sir. And if you think that I cannot destroy you then you are mistaken. If the New York Times or the Washington Post were to be given documented evidence of the deplorable state of our nuclear submarine Navy when I came aboard I can assure you that the Chief of Naval Operations and you and I, would all be out on our collective asses.

“I am prepared to take the consequences for my actions. Just as you had better be prepared to take the consequences if you choose to go running to your friends in the Congress.

“To set your mind at rest, sir, I intend to wait three days for a Soviet response through Mr. Wilson’s contacts. If there is no response I intend to go to the President and the head of the National Security Council and inform them fully of what has happened. If the President agrees we will then announce the loss of the Sharkfin due to unknown causes.”

Captain Steel sat in his chair, his body huddled in on itself. Then he began to straighten up. His eyes stared at Mike Brannon.

“You have reminded me twice in recent days that you are a Vice Admiral and I am a Captain, sir, that I have no choice but to obey your lawful orders. Very well. But remember this, sir; if there is no response from the Soviets to this maniacal action on your part I will appear with you when you make your explanation to the President and I will destroy whatever warped line of reasoning you present. That is not a threat, it is a plain statement of fact. Sir!” He rose and left the office, slamming the door behind him.

Admiral Olsen uncoiled his long frame from the sofa and poured coffee for the others. “He means that, Mike. He’ll be there and he’ll have the chairmen of the House and Senate Armed Services Committees in tow and they’ll be loaded for bear. Or for Mike Brannon.”

“I’ll face that problem if and when it comes,” Brannon said. He sipped at his coffee. “Bob, you’re the ranking expert on the Soviet mind. What do you think they’ll do when they know they’ve lost one of their submarines?”

“They could begin a nuclear war,” Wilson said slowly. “But I’d rule that out. When you hit back at them you sent a message they understand. You’re playing hard ball in the Big Leagues and they understand that, they do it all the time. I don’t think they’ll do anything. If it’s any use to you, Admiral, I’d be willing to testify that it’s my opinion that if you hadn’t taken the action you did the Soviets would have gone a hell of a lot farther in their next try.”

“Thank you,” Brannon said. He turned toward Admiral Benson. “I expect to be kept fully informed of any information you get, anything.” He stood up and walked around in front of his desk.

“Will do, sir,” Admiral Benson said. “My God, that must have been something, that action! Submarines fighting submarines underwater! I know a lot about combat in the air, one on one with the other guy, but submarines and underwater where no one can see anything, that’s something I can’t even imagine. Two SUBROC missiles, you said? What happens when those things go off near a submarine?”

“Ideally,” Mike Brannon’s words came slowly, “you try to land one missile on each beam of the submarine. The explosions are simultaneous. The target is completely destroyed. Nothing is left.” He stared at the rug on the floor of his office. “A lot of men die, that’s what happens.” He walked to the door and Admiral Benson and Bob Wilson left his office.

Igor Shevenko stopped at the door of his office and turned as Stefan Lubutkin came out of his office with an envelope in his hand.

“Genuine?” Shevenko asked.

“Yes, Comrade. I had a friend get these from a naval supply depot. Without a requisition, of course, a friend doing a favor for a friend.” Shevenko nodded and put the envelope in the inside pocket of his jacket. He left the KGB building and walked a block and got into a limousine that slowed and moved in to the curb for him. He settled in the rear seat beside Leonid Plotovsky.

“I am sorry to have insisted on privacy, Comrade,” Shevenko said. “I took the liberty last night of having one of my experts look at your car while it was parked. He found these.” He reached in his pocket and handed the envelope to Plotovsky, who opened it and let two tiny electronic devices spill out into his seamed, clawlike hand.

“Electronic bugs, Comrade,” Shevenko said softly. “Manufactured, I am afraid, by the electronics division of our Navy.”

“Zurahv! “ The old man spat out the word.

“I don’t know, sir,” Shevenko said. “I could find out, perhaps. But that is not the real reason I asked to meet you privately.” He took a deep breath as Plotovsky put the electronic bugs back in the envelope.

“What is the reason for wanting to meet this way?”

“I have been given information that I do not doubt, sir.” Shevenko quickly and concisely detailed the retaliation that the Americans had taken against the Soviet submarine.

Plotovsky turned his lizardlike eyes on Shevenko. “How long will it be before Zurahv knows he has lost a submarine?”

“I would say within three days, sir. It is not too unusual for one of our submarines to fail to report its daily position. It is quite unusual if one goes for two days without reporting its position. One other factor. Our submarine was checking to see if the Americans had put down sonar buoys around the wreckage of their submarine. Admiral Zurahv is anxious to get that report. When it fails to come he will know something is wrong.”

“But you came to me first,” Plotovsky said in a soft voice. “You have the position, the authority to ask for a hearing before the Politburo where you could put this on the table for everyone to consider. Why didn’t you?”

“You led the minority vote to oppose the test of the new torpedo, sir. You are the logical one to prevent Admiral Zurahv’s genie from escaping from the bottle, Comrade.”

“You talk in riddles,” the old man said irritably. “Bottles and genies. Educating you in the West might have been a mistake, Igor.”

“I trust not, sir. I know the American mind. It tends to relate crises to sports, that is, in American football a favorite offensive play is to fake a smash into the line and then throw a long pass. They even call such a pass a bomb.”

“I don’t know anything about American football and I don’t want to,” Plotovsky grunted. “Put it in terms I am familiar with.”

“Chess,” Shevenko said with a slight smile. “We have taken out one of their bishops. They have retaliated by exposing their queen to take a knight in return but if we move for their queen we risk an exchange of all the major pieces. The board will be dominated by pawns.”

“I understand,” Plotovsky said. “Keep in touch with me. I’ll take you back near to your office.”

Vice Admiral Brannon stood in front of the chart on his office wall. Admiral Olsen stood beside him, holding a pad and pen.

“I want a Quiet Alert,” Brannon said. He put his finger on the area between the northern tip of Norway and Bear Island, in the Barents Sea. “If the Soviets come out of Polyarnyy with their missile subs they have to come through here.” His finger moved across the chart to the areas between Britain and Greenland and between Greenland and Iceland.

“If any of them are already west of Bear Island they’ve got to move down through this area to get to the Atlantic. We’ve got the passes covered with the SOSUS arrays and passive mines. Same over on the east coast, the Sea of Okhotsk. If they move I want to know it. I want all attack submarines at sea. Deploy them in Quiet Alert positions to intercept anything that manages to get through the passive mine defenses.” He walked over to his desk and sat down.

“I don’t think they’ll move anything by sea,” Olsen said. “If they’re going to attack they’d do it with land-based missiles. They have to figure that if they move by sea we’ll react as we did to the sinking of the Sharkfin.” He stopped as Brannon’s phone buzzer sounded. Brannon picked up the telephone and listened. He put down the phone and turned to Olsen.

“Admiral Benson. He says they have reports of wide scale Chinese actions against Soviet units along their borders.”

“Which means?” Olsen said.

“It probably means that Peking is reading our radio traffic. Benson says there’s no reason for these flare-ups along the border. The border’s been quiet for months. He thinks they know what’s happened.”

“Works in our favor, doesn’t it?” Olsen said. “The Soviets might think twice about taking on us and the Chinese at the same time.”

“Or they might welcome the chance,” Brannon said.