He took a slow breath, wondering if the air system might be contaminated, it seemed dry and stale. He took another deep breath, feeling his head clear. It had to be the levels of oxygen in the ship. For a moment he considered going to the lower level to the oxygen bottles and opening up the bleed valve, then dismissed the idea. Oxygen was not enough — they needed to clear the air of carbon dioxide. Hell, they needed to get the hell out of the bay.
Pacino began to make his way aft to the shielded tunnel, unplugging and re plugging his mask every forty feet until he was in maneuvering. He pulled a mask out of the overhead and strapped it onto the engineer’s face. Ray Linden opened his eyes, shook his head to clear it.
“We need to restart the scrubbers and burners,” Pacino told him.
“We need to restart the reactor,” Linden managed to get out.
“The battery’s down, must have shorted out and opened the battery breaker …”
“We’re in big trouble with no battery,” Pacino said.
“Don’t need it to restart,” Linden said, getting fresher.
“The reactor protection circuitry has backup batteries and we don’t need coolant pumps. You say the word and we’ll start this thing out of here.”
Another reverberating sonar ping through the hull.
“Not yet, they’re still looking for us. Get everyone into a mask. I’ll call you.”
Pacino headed forward to the control room and began strapping masks on the men. When two, then three regained consciousness Pacino told them to help get the rest of the crew in masks and went into the sonar room and found Chief Jeb in a mask staring at him, his face badly swollen.
“Hear the pinging?” Pacino asked. Jeb nodded.
Pacino figured as long as they could hear the pinging through the hull they wouldn’t need sonar and could stay on the bottom.
After a few moments the pings died down.
Pacino went back into control, trying to find out how many men were hurt seriously. So far the worst had been some broken bones. The men had fairly well recovered with the breathing air, but the supply was limited. One way or another they had to get the hell out of the bay. He checked his watch. It had been a half hour since the last sonar ping he could remember.
He called Linden aft.
“Start up the reactor and get the atmospheric equipment up, full power lineup, but no main engines yet.”
In twenty minutes the fans were working, blowing cool air into the stuffy room. The ESGN navigation system came on with a moan, its ball spinning up to several thousand RPM. The firecontrol and sonar screens lit up as the ship’s computer came back to life.
The control panel’s displays flashed up. Seawolf was back.
Pacino pulled on his headset over the straps of his air mask.
“Chief Jeb, can you hear me?”
“Yes sir.”
“Is sonar up? I’m getting a waterfall screen.”
“I’m initializing, sir, but we’ll be up in no time.”
“Listen for surface and aircraft contacts. I want to know if they’re still waiting for us. There hasn’t been an active ping in a while.”
“Yes sir.”
Pacino hoisted a phone to his ear.
“Eng, how’s the plant?”
“Normal full power lineup, turbines working in spite of the heel. But I’d like to get us horizontal. The condensers don’t drain very well like this.”
“I’ll get back to you. How’s the air?”
“Analyzer says we have high CO and CO2, very low oxygen. We should all be dead.”
“Clean it up as fast as you can.”
“Conn, Sonar,” Jeb’s voice announced, a ring of pride coming through.
“Sonar’s up, no surface contacts, no air contacts. We’re cleared for takeoff, Captain.”
Pacino liked the sound of that.
“Eng, start the main engines and prepare to answer all bells.”
Pacino leaned over the chart, wondering where the ship was. The navigation systems were out of line after the depth charging.
“Conn, Maneuvering. Propulsion is on the main engines, ready to answer all bells,” Linden said.
“Diving Officer, blow depth control number two empty and don’t let us broach if that’s too much buoyancy. Helm, all ahead two thirds!”
First water, then air blew out of the Seawolf’s underside as the depth control tank went dry. The propulsor aft spun, still submerged in silt. As the ship grew buoyant she lifted out of the mud, righted her roll and surged ahead, the stern lifting out of the silt.
The deck leveled and the speed indicator rolled the numerals up on the ship control display.
“Helm, all ahead full. Steer course east. Depth one five zero.”
When they had gone down, Pacino remembered having less than ten miles to go. At full speed he could be out of the Go Hai Bay before the Chinese realized he wasn’t dead. He watched the chart and when he was sure they’d gone at least twenty miles he stood up on the conn, grabbed the microphone to the Circuit One PA. system and put the mike to his gas mask exhalation filter.
“Attention, this is the captain.” His voice rang out through the decks and the compartments of the submarine.
“We are now in international waters in the bay of Korea. Because our atmosphere is still contaminated I intend to surface, which will give us a chance to check out the sail and see how bad the damage is. That’s all, carry on.”
He took a last look at the sonar display console. The surface was clean.
“Diving Officer, surface the ship.”
“Surface the ship, aye. Chief of the Watch, prepare to start the low-pressure blower on all main ballast tanks. Bowplanes to full rise, five degree up angle on the ship. Depth eight zero, seven five, six zero, sir. Depth three eight, three seven. Open inboard induction, drain the header, okay. Open the outboard induction valve, and, Chief, start the blow.”
“PLACING THE LOW PRESSURE BLOWER ON ALL MAIN BALLAST TANKS.”
With a howl from the fan room aft, the huge displacement blower began blowing the ballast tanks dry.
Ten minutes later the Chief of the Watch stopped blowing air into the tanks and began to ventilate the ship with the same blower.
“Captain,” the Diving Officer announced, “the ship is on the surface, atmosphere is in spec. Recommend securing air masks.”
“Very well,” Pacino said.
“Mr. Keebes, announce to the crew to remove air masks and let’s get a navigation fix, then get Mr. Turner up here to check out the sail. If it will work let’s get the radar mast up and find out where the surface action group is. Once you’ve got their position, recommend a course to intercept the task force.”
“Yes sir,” Keebes said, already working on the navigation system.
Pacino sat back down on the Pos Two control seat and put his feet up on the console. The best feeling on the run was taking off the gas mask and breathing pure, clean outside air.
Admiral Richard Donchez stood on the starboard bridge wing looking out to sea, chewing on a cigar that had gone out a half hour before. Next to him Captain Fred Rummel waited for Donchez to speak.
“I’m sorry, Fred, what did you say?”
“We’ll have to notify the Pentagon, sir, that Seawolf is lost.”
Donchez stared at the blue waves running down the starboard side of the massive aircraft carrier, not seeing the waves but the face of a man he considered his own son.