From its storage rack on the deck below, a slim, twelve-foot-long, shiny metallic cannister became visible.
Without hesitation, it was guided into the now empty mouth of the number one tube. As his men sealed the tube and prepared it for firing, Chuchkin reflected on the strange course of their current patrol.
It was the irony of it all that got to him. Here he was, only a few months away from full retirement, and the Americans had to go and start a war. Deciding it was better to be here than merely sitting at ground zero, he could but apply the years of endless drills and practice alerts. In this way, he would do his part to insure the Motherland’s survival.
“Number one tube is sealed, pressurized and ready for firing!” cried the seaman in charge of the loading team.
Quickly, Chuchkin joined him at the console.
“Very good, Comrades. Now let us see if our scientists did their homework.”
After unlocking the firecontrol panel, the chief armed the SIAM and depressed the launch switch.
He looked up when a loud hiss of compressed air sounded from inside the tube. This was followed by a noticeable lurch as the rocket shot out into the surrounding waters. Closing his eyes momentarily, he visualized the course this weapon would be taking as it streaked toward its target.
Already the missile should have broken out of its protective capsule.
As its engines ignited, the rocket would break the ocean’s surface. A split-second later, the SIAM’s self-contained radar unit would activate.
Steered by a set of aerodynamic tins, the missile would home-in on its target at supersonic speeds. A blindingly bright explosion would follow as the weapon’s 30-kilogram warhead triggered, dooming the enemy to an instant, fiery demise.
Chuchkin doubted that they would be able to hear the blast from their present depth. Since they would have to rely on the Vulkan’s sensor operators to let them know if the shot was a success, the chief reached for the intercom. He grimaced involuntarily when his call to the control room was picked up by the boat’s zampolit.
“My, my, you’re an impatient one. Comrade Chuchkin,” the political officer said.
“I imagine that you’re calling for the results of the launch.”
The weapons chief took his pipe from his mouth and meekly answered, “Yes, sir. I only wanted to know if it would be necessary to load another SIAM device.”
Novikov took his time in answering.
“Comrade Chuchkin, I’m most upset with you. Don’t you have more faith in the Rodina’s scientists than that? What need is there for another rocket when this one was more than adequate to do the trick. Lev Zinyakin told us of the glorious results only seconds ago. At that time his sensors recorded a massive series of explosions.
This was followed by nothing but the sound of slapping waves. Whatever was hovering above us certainly no longer exists. Good shooting, my friend.
Now, please don’t disappoint me when the time arrives for the release of our SS-N-18s.”
Pleased with their success, yet uncomfortable talking with the zampolit, the chief humbly excused himself. As he gave his crew the news, an excited about of joy followed. He allowed his men several minutes to revel in their accomplishment, then barked out, “Your enthusiasm is duly noted. But are we holding a party here? Reload that vacant tube with the homing torpedo! Then I’m going to want to see the whole lot of you in the taiga. The Rodina is going to earn its ruble’s worth with you shirkers today, that I can promise you!”
Conscious of his effect on the crew’s mood, Chuchkin pivoted and proceeded out the rear hatchway. All in all, they were a good bunch; yet, like any conscripts, they had to be leaned on constantly. This was one lesson he had learned well in his three decades of service.
After placing the stem of his pipe back between his teeth, Chuchkin elected to fill its bowl and have a real smoke. Since the portion of the Vulkan he was presently in was off limits to smokers, he headed straight for his cabin. That was where he kept his precious stash of imported tobacco anyway.
Climbing down a flight of stairs, he turned toward the sub’s stern. The room that he shared with three other petty officers was located amidships, on the sub’s bottom deck. This put him close to the missile magazine in case an emergency called him there in the middle of one of his rest periods.
Though cramped and sparsely furnished with four narrow bunks and two wallmounted desks, the space at least afforded him a semblance of privacy. Compared to past classes of submarines on which he had sailed, his current quarters could be regarded as nothing short of elegant.
Closing the door behind him, he found he had the entire cabin to himself. This would give him a chance to sort out his confused thoughts. Since the day’s events were unlike any he had ever experienced, he decided that he more than deserved the valuable tobacco he was packing into his pipe.
Purchased in Viet Nam while the Golf-class sub he had been stationed on was visiting Cam Rahn Bay, the tobacco was unique. Packed by an English company, it contained the perfect mixture of fine-cut, golden Virginian leaf, vanilla, and just a hint of rum.
This produced not only a smooth taste, but a sweet, pleasurable aroma as well. For the past six months he had been rationing the contents of the eight-ounce tin.
Because of the current precarious state of world affairs, he decided that he’d better enjoy it now-while he was still alive to do so.
He inhaled the first lungful of smoke, further savoring the taste by exhaling it through his nostrils.
While enjoying several more slowly exhaled puffs, his eyes strayed to the desk that he shared with the reactor chief. Here, smiling back at him with a warm, familiar grin was a picture of his beloved mother.
Now, more than ever before, he was sorry that he hadn’t made time to visit her during his last leave. How disappointed she had been! Yet, naval matters had called, and there was little he could do about it but wish her his sincere love.
Now he was glad that she lived so far from a large city. The village of Malka was some fifty kilometers from Petropavlovsk. With no military installations to speak of, it would surely be ignored if a nuclear war were indeed taking place. Of course, there was always the chance that the enemy would overshoot its intended target… but there was also the nightmare of radioactive fallout to consider.
Regardless of location, there was little doubt that if a nuclear war began, her life, and that of every other human being, would be changed forever.
Shivering at the thought, Chuchkin took another deep draw on his pipe and allowed his restless ponderings to settle. For years he had lived in fear of this day — yet, somehow he had fooled himself into thinking that it could never come to pass.
But the launching of the SIAM rocket had proved that they were in an actual state of war. The senior lieutenant had been hinting at this earlier. Passing off their present alert as merely another meaningless drill, Chuchkin had been fooling no one but himself.
The time was rapidly approaching when their own strategic missiles would be released. Few on board were as aware of their destructive capabilities as Chuchkin was. After all, the SS-N-18s were his lethal responsibility. Snuggled securely in their protective silos, the sixteen missiles would account for millions of deaths. Guided by the Rodina’s most accurate guidance systems, this single flight of warheads would eliminate targets throughout the entire continental United States. After they struck, America would never be the same.
Chuchkin had no doubt as to who had been the aggressor, for the Soviet Union had sworn never to initiate a nuclear conflict. But deterrence had failed, and their mission would now be one of revenge.
Chuchkin cringed at the thought of the crazed which man who had come within inches of wrecking their firecontrol system. Though he hated seeing Stefan Kuzmin stopped as he had been, the zampolit had been justified. To be stuck in a war situation with a load of missiles that couldn’t be released would be the ultimate waste. If the warrant officer had been in his right mind, he would have been most aware of that.