Wait! Naval personnel would have had to load the weapons onto the boat. Rushing over to Kumar, Samant exclaimed, “Director, have any of your people spoken to Captain Narahari Mitra? He’s the shipyard commanding officer, he should be able to tell us how many weapons were loaded and when Chakra left port.”
Kumar quickly raised his radio and passed on to the investigation team at the pier Samant’s questions. While he waited for their response, the director ordered all teams to report in. The news was not encouraging. Dhankhar was nowhere to be found. His office and quarters were empty. The CBI agent in charge of each team said the same thing: Everything was neat and tidy. There was no indication that the admiral had been in any hurry when he departed. After several minutes, the pier team reported in.
“Captain Mitra has been questioned,” Kumar told Samant and Petrov. “He confirms that five weapons were loaded early yesterday evening, and that Chakra set sail at about 2115—over three hours ago. He also said the deployment orders were delivered by Vice Admiral Dhankhar personally.”
Samant shook his head. “Jain’s undoubtedly gone deep and ordered a flank bell by now, putting as much distance between Chakra and Vizag as possible. At least, that’s what I would do. Even if we alerted the patrol squadron at INS Rajali immediately, it would be another hour, maybe two, before they could even hope to have a maritime patrol aircraft in the rough vicinity. That puts her about two hundred miles out into the Bay of Bengal.”
“That’s a very large area for a single patrol plane to cover,” remarked Petrov. “And if Jain is smart enough to drop down to a moderate tactical speed, he’ll be very hard to find. Even for a new U.S. P-8 Poseidon aircraft.”
“He’s that smart. I trained him.” Samant’s face showed a mixture of pride and regret.
“We can sortie the fleet! Chase him down!” Kumar exclaimed.
Both Samant and Petrov smirked at the naive comment. “That wouldn’t help. In fact, all that extra noise in the water would only make it easier for Jain to get away,” Samant grunted. “No, the only assets we have that even have a chance of catching him right now are aircraft. But, as Aleks has already said, the odds are not good.”
“What if Jain has been deceived? You’ve said he was impressionable, Girish. You could send out radio messages with the truth. Tell him about Dhankhar’s lies, and order him to return to base,” suggested Petrov.
Samant shrugged. “We certainly need to try that, Aleks. But I fear his orders will address that contingency. If he stays deep, and I suspect he will, only a VLF radio system can reach him, and the regular maintenance on the transmitter at INS Kattabomman hasn’t been completed yet.”
A deep scowl popped on Petrov’s face. “I know about that project, there are several Russian technicians supporting it. That work should have been finished some time ago, who’s in charge of that effort?” he grumbled in frustration.
Samant’s expression was one of utter amazement. Petrov saw the “Duh” look on his friend’s face, winced, and rubbed his brow. “Of course. Dhankhar. I knew that.”
“Then the situation is hopeless!” Kumar moaned.
“Not hopeless, at least not yet,” replied Samant with stern determination. “But we do need to ask for assistance. Aleks?”
Petrov nodded, took out his cell phone, and punched a few buttons. Raising the phone to his ear, he looked at the CBI director and explained, “It’s times like this when one learns to appreciate friends in high places.”
It took but a moment for the call to go through; the recipient answered quickly. “Dr. Patterson, this is Aleks Petrov. I have some bad news.”
Joanna Patterson didn’t respond to Evangeline McDowell’s greeting. It was questionable whether she even heard it. Marching deliberately, Patterson thrust her finger toward the door, and the Secret Service agent opened it without blinking. He’d been warned to admit the national security advisor without delay. Bursting into the Oval Office, she could see Secretary of State Lloyd speaking with the president. Joanna didn’t care what they were talking about, and didn’t even greet her boss.
“Chakra’s gone, and Dhankhar has escaped,” she announced pointedly.
“WHAT!?” howled Lloyd. Myles let out a groan and cradled his face in his hands.
“How in God’s name did the Indians botch it so badly? I thought we gave them plenty of warning!” Lloyd complained.
“Apparently the number-two man at the Indian Central Bureau of Investigation was in on the conspiracy. It looks like he warned Dhankhar and then stalled the investigation long enough for the admiral and the boat to disappear. Chakra set sail almost four hours ago with the five nuclear-armed torpedoes on board,” answered Patterson.
“Joanna, who told you this?” asked a strained Myles.
“Alex Petrov just called me from the shipyard. They just executed the raid to seize the sub and arrest Dhankhar. Both were gone, Orlav as well. Petrov and Samant are at the torpedo workshop with the CBI director right now.”
“I see. What do the Indians intend to do?”
“There really isn’t much they can do, Mr. President. They’ll scramble maritime patrol aircraft, but the odds aren’t in their favor. Unless Chakra’s new captain does something stupid, an Akula-class boat has the advantage. And Samant has said he trained the man well, so we have to assume he won’t do something stupid,” replied Joanna grimly.
Myles rose and walked around his desk, struggling to come to grips with the nightmare unfolding before them, the nightmare they had tried so hard to prevent. Taking a deep breath and straightening himself, he laid the obvious next question on his advisors. “All right, what do we do now?”
“The cat’s out of the bag, Mr. President. We have to tell the Chinese,” sighed Lloyd.
Joanna nodded. “I concur with the secretary of state, Mr. President.”
The president began pacing, considering his advisors’ recommendation. There really wasn’t a choice. “Agreed,” he said finally. “And we’ll have to inform the Russians as well. But isn’t there something we can do to be more proactive? I don’t like the idea of warning the Chinese and then just watching.”
“We should speak with the Littoral Alliance, get them involved. They have good ASW forces, and it would be in their interest to assist in hunting down Chakra,” Lloyd suggested.
Myles nodded his head, thinking.
“The best platform to hunt down a submarine is another submarine, Mr. President,” offered Joanna. “We have the most capable boats in theater at Guam.”
“Squadron Fifteen,” affirmed Myles.
“Yes, sir.”
Lloyd was visibly unhappy with Patterson’s idea and voiced his objection. “But Joanna, if Chakra is bent on attacking Chinese ports, then she’ll be entering Chinese waters. Our boats would have to go into those same territorial waters to chase them. What makes you think the Chinese will tolerate the presence of our subs?”
“The Chinese know we have the best submarines, and they know what it’s going to take to find and stop Chakra. They won’t like it, not one bit, and they’ll likely complain, but that doesn’t change the fact that we substantially boost their chances of preventing a nuclear warhead from going off in one or more of their ports. Furthermore, if the Chinese do detect one of our subs, it doesn’t sound like an Akula; you can tell the difference.”