Kalinin replied, “The Americans believe their submarine was attacked by one of ours. There was supposedly an explosion in their submarine’s operating area, with the acoustic characteristics of a Russian torpedo detonation.” Kalinin paused, offering a disapproving scowl. “I expect to be kept abreast of critical issues. I should not have to learn from the American president that one of our submarines may have been involved in an altercation.”
“That is just like the Americans,” Nechayev replied with disdain, “blaming everything on Russia. We have only one submarine in the area, Kazan, on her way to a Mediterranean deployment. Her crew would not have engaged an American submarine without orders.”
Nechayev paused to evaluate the way forward, quickly putting together a plan. “We will review the acoustic recordings near the GIUK Gap to confirm or deny the American allegation of a Russian torpedo explosion, and we will contact Kazan. But I can assure you, the American submarine was not attacked by Kazan or any other Russian submarine.”
Upon departing President Kalinin’s office, Nechayev descended to the Kremlin basement and entered the intelligence center.
The senior officer on watch, Captain Second Rank Eduard Simonov, looked up from his console. “Good morning, Defense Minister. How can I help you?”
“Can you show me Kazan’s track?”
“Certainly,” Simonov replied.
After entering several commands into his computer, the large display at the front of the intelligence center shifted to a map of the northern Atlantic Ocean, showing the location of all Russian naval forces. Just west of the GIUK Gap, a blinking blue circle displayed the projected position of the missing American submarine, reported by ISMERLO.
Simonov entered a few more commands, and two red features appeared: Kazan’s operating area in the Barents Sea, and a red track departing the operating area, which ran north of Iceland through the GIUK Gap, directly through the blinking blue circle, then south toward the Strait of Gibraltar before entering the Mediterranean Sea.
Nechayev turned to Simonov. “Order Kazan to report the status of their transit and any unusual incidents thus far.”
34
MOSCOW, RUSSIA
President Yuri Kalinin entered the Kremlin conference room, joining his advisors seated around the table. To the president’s right were Defense Minister Anton Nechayev and Foreign Minister Andrei Lavrov, while to his left sat Fleet Admiral Georgiy Ozerov and Nikolai Barsukov, director of Russia’s Federal Security Service, one of the two main successors to the KGB and responsible for in-country counterintelligence, counterterrorism, and both military and civilian surveillance.
It had been twenty-four hours since Kazan was ordered to report in, and after sifting through the data, Nechayev had requested the meeting — and Director Barsukov’s presence — to brief Kalinin on his conclusions.
Nechayev began the brief, opening the folder before him. “We have reviewed the American claim that one of their submarines was torpedoed by one of ours, and here’s what we know. First, Kazan left several days ago on its maiden deployment to the Mediterranean, and its track took it through the area where the Americans claim their submarine was sunk.”
Kalinin interrupted. “I assume Kazan was submerged during its transit, so how do we know its track?”
Nechayev turned to Fleet Admiral Ozerov, who explained. “On the surface, submarines are allowed to take whatever route they want to get from point A to point B. Once submerged, however, they follow a preplanned transit route, which prevents more than one of our submarines from traveling in the same waterspace.”
Kalinin nodded his understanding and Nechayev continued. “We have also evaluated the American claim that a Russian torpedo detonated in their submarine’s operating area. Our analysts agree. There was an explosion at the time and place the Americans claim, and its strength correlates to the explosive load of our heavyweight torpedoes.
“Also, we have directed Kazan to report in, but so far there has been no response.”
Kalinin considered the information, then asked, “How do we know it wasn’t Kazan that was torpedoed and the claim that one of their submarines has been sunk isn’t an elaborate ruse by the Americans?”
“That’s unlikely,” Nechayev replied. “The torpedo explosion was characteristic of a Russian torpedo, not of an American one. American heavyweight torpedo warheads are loaded with an explosive compound called PBXN-105, which is slightly more powerful and produces a different bubble transient. Our analysts are confident that the torpedo that exploded was one of ours.”
Still not convinced, Kalinin floated another explanation. “Perhaps there was a collision and Kazan was sunk or damaged, which explains why she hasn’t responded, and one of her torpedoes detonated during the collision.”
Nechayev shook his head. “The explosion was characteristic of an in-water detonation, not one inside a Torpedo Room. The torpedo was launched.”
“There must be a rational explanation for what happened,” Kalinin said. “Perhaps Kazan thought it was being attacked and fired in self-defense?”
Fleet Admiral Ozerov replied this time. “Then why hasn’t she reported in?”
Kalinin fell silent and Nechayev waited as the president slowly accepted the most likely scenario.
Kazan had gone rogue.
Finally, Kalinin asked, “What are your recommendations?”
Nechayev replied, “First, we continue ordering Kazan to report in. Second, we examine every detail of Kazan’s deployment preparations to identify any anomalies. Third, and this is why I requested Director Barsukov’s presence, we should investigate every member of Kazan’s crew, beginning with its commanding officer.”
Kalinin nodded his concurrence. “Move quickly. We must determine why Kazan’s crew would attack an American submarine, and anything else they may have planned.”
35
MOSCOW, RUSSIA
After spending the day with Natasha at Blokhin National Medical Research Center, Tatiana Plecas was preparing for bed when there was a knock on her hotel room door. Peering through the peephole, she spotted two men in the hallway, each wearing a suit beneath a heavy black overcoat.
“Who is it?” she asked without opening the door.
The closest man held a badge up to the peephole. “FSB,” was the muffled response. “We need to talk, Mrs. Plecas.”
Tatiana considered, just for a moment, not opening the door. The FSB, the successor to the KGB for domestic issues, was feared among the populace. Although some limits had been placed on the FSB’s powers, the service had been controlled by KGB veterans and their disciples since its inception and had often been used as a weapon against dissidents, with the definition changing as the Kremlin saw fit. However, she decided that refusing to open the door would not turn out well.
She let the two men into the room. The first man, Nicholai Meknikov, introduced himself and his partner, Pyotr Sobakin, as Sobakin’s eyes perused the hotel room furnishings.
“We have a few questions,” Meknikov said. There was a small table and chair against the wall. “Please, have a seat.”
Tatiana eased nervously into the chair as directed, facing Meknikov, who sat on the corner of the nearby bed. He pulled a smartphone from his suit jacket pocket and scrolled through notes as Sobakin wandered around the room, examining Tatiana’s belongings. She thought about objecting, but said nothing.