“Are you ready, sir?” he asked.
“It’s that time already?” the President said.
“You seem nervous, sir,” the XO said.
The President was a bit apprehensive about riding along on the Emergency Nighttime Surface Drill, but he wasn’t sure why. “Just some pre-cruise jitters, is all,” he said.
“There’s no reason to worry, Mr. President,” the XO said. “Tonight’s is just a routine drill on board a technological marvel, commanded by one of the finest officers in the Navy.”
The agent with the carnation gave him a look that said, You better not be bullshitting, asshole…
“If you would follow me, gentlemen?” the XO said, and they proceeded up the gangway.
The captain of the submarine, Commander Adam Byrd, greeted the President on the bridge. “Welcome aboard, sir,” he said.
“Thank you, Commander,” the President said, shaking his hand. “I hear I’m in for quite a treat tonight.”
“That you are,” Commander Byrd said.
An ensign walked over holding a small bundle of nylon webbing. “The ride may be a little rough, Mr. President,” he said. “This is a safety harness for you to wear. I’ll let you know when it’s time to hook up.”
This didn’t exactly fill the President with confidence, but he did as requested and stepped into the rig.
The agent with the flower looked at the ensign indignantly, wondering why he and his Secret Service team didn’t rate safety gear of their own.
THE PARTY
San Diego Waterfront
Chapter 41
Uri Ruden was first to arrive at the party. It had started to rain, and the framework holding the stretched plastic structure covering b-39 strained against an increasingly strong wind.
He ducked through the opening in the plastic and crossed the temporary wooden gangplank onto the submarine’s deck then he powered up a couple of the construction crew’s work lights to illuminate the area for the benefit of the other guests.
Uri was pleased to see that all of the safety handrails, walkways, ramps, and stairs that the museum had installed for visitors had been removed, and the holes repaired. He would perform a hull-pressure test later to confirm that the welds met his specifications.
He entered the submarine through the fin hatch and climbed down the ladder to the Control Room. It was from there in Compartment Three that they would be piloting the submarine. He went over the procedures in his mind and re-familiarized himself with the helm controls, and then he headed to the Forward Torpedo Room.
Uri Ruden inspected the torpedoes. The red and white one was on the rack, and the green one was still loaded into tube 5.
He reviewed the launch procedure in his mind. The shot would be at close range, so they would not be using the fire-control system. They would simply aim the sub straight at the target using the attack periscope, and fire the torpedo from the bow tube, hoping for the best.
Satisfied that everything was in order, he closed tube 5’s inner hatch cover and returned to the Control Room.
Next to arrive were Jason and Brandy. They met Uri Ruden in the Control Room, and Jason introduced him to Brandy.
“If I’d known there would be beautiful women at the party I would have dressed up a little,” Uri said.
Brandy noticed that Uri was in full dress uniform and she smiled. They shook hands and exchanged pleasantries.
“Why don’t we head down to the galley and make ourselves some drinks?” Uri said.
Brandy had no problem with that. She could use a stiff drink about now.
“Sounds good,” Jason said, and they ducked through the watertight hatch leading to Compartment Four.
Jason and Uri were too tall to stand comfortably in the tiny galley, so Brandy had the honor of mixing the drinks. When she was ready she joined them in the corridor and they touched paper cups, toasting nothing in particular.
Uri looked at his watch and said, “Will you excuse us, Brandy? I have something to discuss with Jason. If you need us, we’ll be two doors down, there in the Midshipmen’s Cabin, just beyond the pantry.”
“No problem,” Brandy said. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
The men turned and walked down the corridor.
“Pour me another Scotch, will you, Brandy?” Jason said over his shoulder. “We’ll only be a minute.”
He followed Uri into the Midshipmen’s Cabin and closed the door.
Left with nothing to do, Brandy downed her drink, mixed two more, and then headed down the corridor toward the Engine Room to explore the rest of the sub.
Chapter 42
A light rain continued to fall as Aaron dropped Katya off at the dock. She kissed him and then ran inside the gift shop to change. Aaron motored across to the Cayman Jewel to do the same.
They met back at the dock a few minutes later.
“You look amazing,” Aaron said, at the sight of Katya’s dress.
Katya beamed. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” She had never seen him in long pants before. She kissed him hard on the lips, and then hand in hand they walked down to the submarine.
Through the rain they saw that the big plastic tarpaulin had already been completed and that it covered the entire sub. The gangway was gone, replaced by a simple temporary wooden gangplank that led through a narrow opening in the tarp.
“I wonder why they had to do that?” Aaron said as they ducked inside.
All of the tourist handrails and walkways were missing. And as they walked up on deck they saw that the bow and stern stairways leading down into the submarine were gone as well, and the openings welded shut.
Aaron figured it was all part of the restoration project and decided not to dwell on it.
They entered the submarine through the fin hatch and climbed down the ladder to an empty Control Room.
Just as she stepped off the ladder, Katya remembered that she had forgotten to lock up the gift shop.
“I’m such a space head,” she said. “I think I forgot to lock up.”
“Two days on the job and you’re the one who locks up?”
She held the key up like a trophy. “My father had to pull some strings to get me this job, and I don’t want to screw it up.”
“While you’re gone I think I’ll check out the Captain’s Cabin. Can you find your own way out?”
“Of course, silly,” Katya said. “I’m not incompetent.”
Aaron laughed. “Go on then,” he said. “I’ll be in Compartment Two, right through there.” He pointed to one of the two watertight hatches leading out of the Control Room, the one near the helm controls. “Last door on the left, I think. You can’t miss it.”
“I’ll find it,” Katya said. “Back in a flash.” She gave him a peck on the cheek and then climbed back up the ladder exiting the submarine.
The Captain’s Cabin was a tiny room, the width of the bunk against the back wall, with a small writing desk on the left. The Maritime Museum had outfitted the room with period pieces for the benefit of the tourists: a Soviet Captain’s jacket, some playing cards, and an old, framed photograph of Leonid Brezhnev, General Secretary of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union.