“Where is he at this moment” the president asked. “On a small Greek island about fifty miles off the mainland” the DCI Roland Murphy said. They were alone in the president’s study. “It’s isolated out there, which gives us pretty good control over the situation. “Has he given you his answer”
“Yes, Mr. President, he has. John Trotter went out to talk with him. He said he’d do it”
“Even under the strict conditions you imposed on him” the president asked. “Once he enters Germany we totally divorce ourselves from him”
“Yes, Sir” After a beat the president shook his head. “I don’t like this, General. In fact I like it even less than your last operation” ‘ “I didn’t think you would. But you said yourself that Gorbachev no longer has any real control over Baranov. And it’s not inconceivable that an accident could happen and Baranov would rise to power”
“We lived through the specter of another KGB chief becoming party chairman”
“Baranov is an entirely different animal, Mr. President. We’ve been suffering from his handiwork for too long now. The president leaned forward. “If we make him a target, you’ll be a natural for retaliation”
“Yes, sir, I’ve taken that into consideration”
“Could it be pulled off”
“If it was anyone else other than McGarvey, I’d say he’d have a less than fifty-fifty shot at it. But with him … he has a habit of doing the impossible”
“We’ve treated him shabbily”
“He is an assassin, Mr. President”
“Yes” the president said, nodding thoughtfully. “But have you stopped to ask what that makes us” Murphy let the remark pass. “I need your go-ahead, Mr. President”
“They’d crucify me “Yes, sir. But you’ve never seen the report. This conversation is not being recorded. And McGarvey will be kept at arm’s length throughout the entire operation”
“What about afterward? Assuming he is successful. “We keep him at arm’s length” Again the president hesitated for a beat. “You’re a tough man, General”
“It’s a tough business, Mr. President” Murphy said. “Do I have your authorization”
“Only to put everything in place” the president said. His eyes bored into the DCI’S. “I want you to listen very closely to me now, because I don’t want any mistakes. You can put your people into place, but the trigger will not be pulled until you get word from me. Under no circumstances will McGarvey assassinate Baranov until you have personal word from me”
“It’ll put him in a nasty spot. He could be left hanging.”
“As you-said, General, this is a tough business”
The US. Los Angeles-class attack submarine Indianapolis ran submerged, two hundred feet beneath the surface of the dark sea on a course of 210 degrees out of Sixth Fleet Headquarters at Gaeta, Italy. She was one hundred miles offshore in a run-and-drift mode in which she would make fourteen knots for a half hour, and then shut down to drift for the next half hour. She had been in the eastern Med for the past two weeks, taking part in a naval exercise with the Nimitz and her support group, called LOOKUP. The Soviets had become active in the region recently and the exercise was designed to test their willingness to remain in the area, based on their battle group strengths coming through the Bosporus. The mission completed, Indianapolis was heading back to her patrol station, code-named ROUNDHOUSE, off the Italian coast for further orders. She had made it nearly six hours early and had gone into her run-and-drift mode to give the sonar operators some more practice. They had picked up a couple of ships on the surface, identifying both as freighters. There were no other submarines in the area, and they would have been very surprised had there been. Commander John D. Webb, J. D. to his friends, looked at his watch. It was twenty minutes until two in the morning, local time. He switched on the light over his bunk and sat up, wiping the sleep out of his eyes. At forty he was beginning to burn out on submarine duty. This was his fourth boat and she was a beauty, but his thoughts lately had begun to turn more and more to Norfolk where he and his wife Lois had a small house, and to the sub school at New London, Connecticut, where he had been offered a teaching job. Time now, he wondered as he got up and used the small head, to call it quits?
Lois certainly wouldn’t fight him. Their marriage had survived this long against the adversities of a navy career. Time now to reap some of the benefits. Slipping on his shoes, he walked next door to the officers’ wardroom where he poured himself a cup of coffee, and then headed forward to the attack center, passing the sonar room where the duty supervisor and one of the kids were playing a game of chess. They both looked up as the captain passed. Lieutenant Earl Layman, his executive officer, had just shown up; he had the conn with another officer and six enlisted men. “Just about time to get the mail” Webb said, ducking through the batch. Layman looked up from the chart table. “Good morning, Captain. We’re back on station” He and Webb had served together for nearly five years now. Layman was next in line for his own boat and he deserved it. The two of them were almost exact opposites in every respect. Where Webb was short, dark, and husky, Layman was tall, pale, and lanky. Webb had graduated from — Oda Kansas State with a degree in engineering, while Layman had graduated first in his class from Harvard as a mathematics major. Webb was a pragmatist, Layman was an idealist.
But their differences never got in the way, in fact they were complementary” Best damned skipper and exec combination in the entire Navy” Admiral Wannover, CINCSUBATLANT, called them. Webb picked up the telephone. “Sonar, conn, what’s it look like out there”
“Nothing in the past hour, Skipper”
“All right, Tonnny, keep your ears open, we’re heading up” Webb put the telephone down. “Earl, bring the boat up to periscope depth”
“Aye, Captain, bringing the boat uplayman responded. “Reduce speed to five knots and come right to zero-zero-five degrees” Webb said softly.
II Reducing speed to five knots, coming right to zero-zero-five, aye”
The problem with submarines had always been communications. While they were submerged the only effective means of contacting them was through either the ELF (Extremely Low Frequency) or VLF (Very Low Frequency) systems. The former was based in Wisconsin and could transmit to submarines anywhere in the world, even subs that were as deep as a thousand feet. The problem with the system was its speed. It took fifteen minutes to transmit a single three-letter code group. And communications were only one way. With the VLF system, an updated C-135 aircraft flying at thirty thousand feet over a sub’s patrol station would trail an eight-mile-long wire antenna. But again communications were slow and only one way. The alternatives were communications buoys either sent up by the submarine, or dropped from a passing ship or aircraft, or for the submarine to come to periscope depth and raise her satellite antenna. The latter systems, however, exposed the submarine to detection. Lieutenant jg. Robert Hess, the ELINT (Electronic Intelligence) officer, popped his head around the corner from his cubicle. “Are we going upstairs, Skipper” Webb turned to him. “On our way up, Bob. Have you got something for us”
“Negative. But if we have the time, I’d like to put up the ECM mast. We can use the practice” The Electronic Counter Measures mast, like the boat’s two periscopes, could be raised or lowered. It contained three directional antennae and two omni-directional arrays. Anything transmitting electronic energy within a hundred miles of their position was detectable with the system. “Permission granted. But we’re not going to be long”