Hardy noticed how the Russians were suddenly vague about the spacing and position of the sensors, but that defensive acoustic barrier was not part of the problem, as far as he could tell. But there still was a useful clue. He spoke up. “Your units seemed to have no trouble finding us, so somebody had to know where those sensors actually were located.”
Mishin nodded agreement, but said, “Records of the incident — from the time of detection until the loss of Gepard—were classified after the court-martial of Admiral Yuri Kirichenko.”
“I remember hearing about that. He was commander of the Northern Fleet. Why exactly was he court-martialed?” Patterson asked.
Mishin replied, “The official charge was ‘violating standing fleet orders and using poor judgment.’”
“So pursuing Memphis violated your rules of engagement.”
“Not at first,” Mishin answered, “but once an intruder was some tens of kilometers from our coast, and was definitely moving away, standing orders were to track him, but not attack it again. Instead, against the advice of his chief of staff and other senior officers, when Memphis left the coastal defense zone, the admiral did not recall the pursuing units. Instead, he mobilized more Northern Fleet ships and aircraft.
“Testimony from officers present, and I can corroborate this from my own experience, is that he was fiercely determined to sink the American sub—Memphis—no matter what it took.” Mishin rubbed his temples, as if the memory was stressful.
“Sonars in the pursuing ships heard the sound when Gepard’s torpedoes exploded. At first, it was hoped that meant the American sub had been sunk, but when some time had passed and our submarine failed to report, which was standard practice, Admiral Ventofsky, Commander in Chief of the Russian Navy, ordered the prosecution ended. Even then, Kirichenko did not seem ready to stop, and Ventofsky finally ordered Kirichenko’s chief of staff to take command and organize the search and rescue effort for Gepard.”
Hardy said, “I can only express my deep regret at the loss of your submarine. We did our very best to avoid combat. Our only desire was to leave.”
“After intruding into places you had no business going,” Mishin replied. “Your actions may have been justified, but the Russian Navy has always defended its home waters with vigor, and we will continue to do so.” Mishin looked directly at Patterson as he spoke, and Hardy noticed Vaslev smiling. That message has been successfully delivered.
Hardy bristled and began to speak, but Patterson laid a hand on his arm and he remained silent.
Tumansky continued the narration. “At the court-martial, Kirichenko said that his only motive was to defend Russian territory and punish the intruder — you, but his actions went far beyond what was required. He even invented a story about a spy that the intruding sub had picked up to justify continuing the attacks. His explanation was incredible, but was accepted at the trial because his motivations were essentially irrelevant. The charges were based on his actions, not his reasoning. Now, with this new knowledge, we can see what he was so desperate to protect.
“Once we knew what to look for, we could see that Kirichenko knew where those misplaced acoustic sensors actually were. While his staff took charge of the pursuit, Kirichenko himself gave many of the tactical orders. His initial commands to the fleet sent them well north of the intruder’s reported location. Since your submarine was fleeing north, the exact spacing did not attract attention, especially since our units successfully detected you. Reconstructing it now, using the sensors’ true position, we can see that he was following standard fleet doctrine for the prosecution of a Los Angeles—class nuclear submarine, beginning at the sensors’ true location.”
“So the commander of the Northern Fleet was involved in the scheme.” Patterson sounded surprised, even incredulous.
Mishin was defiant. “Admiral Yuri Kirichenko has always been seen as an able commander who made a reckless, and deadly, mistake. Over three decades of faithful service saved him from demotion and possibly a fine or even prison. At the time, it was thought nothing would have been gained by criminal punishment. Instead, he was allowed to retire immediately, without a pension.”
“And where is the former admiral now?” Patterson asked.
Tumansky explained, “That is what my investigators are trying to find out. After the court-martial, he moved into a small house near the Severomorsk naval base. For a while, he kept in touch with a few friends and associates. He didn’t have any family. Eventually, contacts with those he knew became less frequent, and finally rare. A member of his staff stopped by his house one day, about half a year after the court-martial, to find it vacant. He left no word with anyone we’ve spoken to. We’re tracing his bank records and other documentation, but that all ended about the same time.”
“In other words, he’s vanished,” Patterson concluded.
“While doing his best to not leave any tracks,” Tumansky agreed. “But we have many other paths to follow. He didn’t load and hide the barge by himself, and there are many questions regarding the warheads. Their manufacture was so highly classified that there may be only a few people now who knew they even existed. Are these seventy all that were made? Who ordered their production?”
Tumansky sighed. “It’s easy for me to believe that these warheads were manufactured in secret. Even with the end of the Soviet regime, Russia’s defense industry is compartmentalized and divided to an absurd degree, all in the name of secrecy. In my seventeen years as a chief investigator, I’ve only dealt with a handful of security violations, but hundreds of cases of graft and malfeasance.
“Because of that secrecy, only a few records were kept, and most of them are now missing. Our investigation has only started, but so far nobody in the government or military claims to have any knowledge of these weapons. But somehow Kirichenko knew.” Tumansky sounded frustrated, but added, “Once I find that link, we’ll use it to track down Kirichenko and the rest of his helpers.”
Patterson asked, “I’d like to get complete information on the good admiral, please. Photos, fingerprints, and his contacts of course.”
Both Vaslev and the Russians in Moscow looked puzzled, and asked, “Why?”
“So that we can see if he ever came to the U.S., of course. He’s had twelve years to go anywhere he wanted. For all we know, he’s been living in Cincinnati. Also, we can reexamine our intelligence to see if the admiral has appeared, probably under another name, somewhere else. Now that we have someone to look for, if he or his group have been peddling stolen Russian nuclear weapons, we may find their trail.”
Even as Patterson asked for the file, Tumansky scowled, then had a rapid-fire dialogue with Mishin — in Russian. Vaslev also chimed in, after she finished making her request.
Vaslev answered for them. “We can give you the basic information on him immediately, but the file will have to be reviewed by the Director of the FSB…”
“And sanitized, I imagine,” she interrupted with a critical tone.
Vaslev shrugged. “Surely you understand, the file contains sensitive information, and might reveal techniques…”
She almost laughed. “What information could possibly be more sensitive than a renegade Russian admiral selling bootleg Russian nuclear weapons? Ambassador, gentlemen, the quicker we get the file, and the more information it contains, the better chance we have of stopping them before there’s another — and possibly worse — catastrophe.”