I could see the impact of his decision upon Tyler. The tall, rangy figure seemed to sag slightly. At the door, he half reached out his hand towards MKG but, as if ashamed of the gesture, hastily plunged it into the cigar box.
You're already smoking, Revs! ' MKG'S voice struck like a sjambok.
Tyler ground out the cigar savagely. I am, goddammit.'
Listen for the last time, Revs,' said MKG. I have a date to keep with Little Bear. I mean to keep it.'
Not this way,' repeated Tyler doggedly. ' I'll go after the freighter first. Little Bear!' mKG's voice sharpened. One of the very few prototypes of Little Bear.
Aye,' retorted the big American. ' That's the kicker.' He glared at Peace and myself. I'd say this whole story is a frame-up to get a classified weapon to the Reds and to kidnap the Vice-President of the United States.'
God's truth-' began Peace, but Tyler was gone, the door slamming behind him. Within seconds came the familiar whirr of the pumps and the rush of water as Willowtrack started to submerge. It is a delicate manceuvre to take a nuclear sub down without engines, but Tyler rightly boasted he had a Gold Crew. She went down smooth as a lift.
MKG and Peace stood silent. There was nothing we could do. We were completely in Tyler's hands.
Mica took one of Tyler's cigars and lit it, staring at the burning tip. It's the way we planned it or nothing,' he said at length.
I said, Tyler sees his duty to the office of the VicePresident as overruling all other considerations.'
He didn't give me time even to explain about the CIA man, the leak and all the rest of it,' added Peace.
' Revs is the low man on the totem-pole,' MKG answered wryly. Strange, having someone else try and teach one one's duty as Vice-President. I thought his loyalty to me-'
I don't understand the jamming of Willowtrack's radio by Devastation,' said Peace. I don't like it, either. I gave no orders.'
The thought struck me like a body-blow: suppose it wasn't
Devastation?
What if there's another sub in the bay?' I asked swiftly. What if the CIA had another United States nuclear sub shadow us?'
No,' replied Peace. The u.s. Navy's too deep in this, isn' t it, MKG?'
The Vice-President nodded.
' But what if it's a Red sub?' Peace continued.
My god!' exclaimed MKG as we stared at him. Maybe I' ll need Revs's protection after all. What makes you say that, Commander?'
Peace glanced at me. The girl, Adele. What if she has homed a Red sub on to us?'
The thought left me sick.
`We'll find out-soon!' snapped Peace. MKG, what have you aboard this sub that you need for the Little Bear launch?'
MKG rose slowly to his feet, dropping the cigar unheedingly on the table. ' I don't get you. Space-suit-instruments anything like that?'
No. Boz Blair's got the space-suit and other gear.' He stared, puzzled, at Peace. I've got a few countdown details
– a few of the final stable table settings, but Boz has duplicates of them all. The White House code, of course.'
Nothing heavy you need?'
What have you got in mind, Commander?'
Tyler said you can't simply step outside a submarine. But you can, you know. Blow and go 1'
Blow and go?'
We must hurry, while Tyler is in. the Control Centre.
Every nuclear sub has three escape hatches-'
Peace's daring plan broke upon me when I remembered the escape tube Bob Peters had shown me when conducting me round Devastation. He had told me of the three escape routes: the usual one via the bridge and sail, and two others, one for'ard and one aft. I had seen the forward escape trunk myself. The hatches leading from these escape trunks were the only ones in the ship which were independent of the main ballast-control panel. The men escaping operated them.
MKG stood transfixed at Peace's rapid explanation. ' But when they see us with escape gear..
No, no! No apparatus is needed. That's why it's called blow and go. All you have to do once you're inside the hatch is to equalize the air pressure inside the escape tube with that of the ocean outside. You allow water into the trunk until pressure is equal. Then, you just open a side hatch and step out into the water. You heard Tyler say we'll only be sixty feet down. It's a piece of cake at that depth.
But our lungs will burst.' MKG hesitated.
There isn't time to explain it all now-you'll have to take my word for it. It's a well-tried and tested method-buoyant ascent, it's called. You get compressed air in your lungs in the escape tube. As you rise to the surface, the compressed air expands and blows itself out.'
No masks?'
No, there is no equipment at all. It takes only about six seconds to rise to the surface from sixty feet. Can you swim?'
MKG grinned. Let's go, fellahs 1'
' Devastation's dinghy won't be far,' I added.
It was unbelievably easy. MKG led. We made our way down the short passageway to the cabin which MKG shared with the SINS expert, who was at his general quarters station in the control-room. MKG flung open a suitcase, took out some documents, tied them into a plastic bag which previously had held a shirt, and thrust the parcel into his seakhakis' pocket. He scrabbled deeper and pulled out a flat wooden case.
You won't want a pistol,' Peace said.
This isn't an ordinary hand-gun.' He snapped it open. There, with 100 shells banked round, was the finest weapon I had ever seen. It looked like a pistol, but it had a bolt action.
Remington XP 100,' MKG said tersely._ 221 Fire Ball shells highest velocity ever fired by a hand-gun. Sort of holster rifle.'
Peace found another plastic shirt-cover in which he wrapped the gun, while MKG did the same to some other papers. In the passageway I felt naked. I wanted to rush. MKG sauntered casually, talking to Peace as if he were showing him the ship.
We reached the main forward bulkhead which separates the torpedo compartment from the rest of the ship-one of the five main watertight compartments into which the hull is divided. My stomach dropped as we stepped over the high lintel. Fear of discovery vied with fear of the unknown plunge into the sea which Peace had outlined. I shut the bulkhead door behind us. The narrow passageway ahead was lined with light-alloy bunks, their Pullman-type curtains drawn. The 20-foot-long Mk 18 torpedoes, loaded with 500 lbs of TNT in the head and driven by over a ton of mixed water, alcohol and hydrogen peroxide, seemed as outmoded as a spear compared to a carbine in the deadly complexity of Willowtrack's main armament. Two torpedo-men were checking the tubes. One of them paused, his hand on a big clamp. The news obviously hadn't reached them yet.
Hi, MKG! he called cheerfully. We fixed the homing gear in t'other sonofabitch. You were right on the pickle-barrel about the trouble.'
The other crewman grinned and Mica, acting magnificently, replied, Well, that's sure good, fellahs-the thing won't run and hit us in the ass, now.'
They all laughed. MKG said, You guys, I want you to meet Commander Peace, from the British sub. He's coming for a ride with us. Wants to see Willowtrack's escape gear.'
Can't leave this right now,' replied the other torpedoman. But Jeez, MKG-help yourself.'
Close t'hatch, willya-there's going to be some hammering in a moment,' added the first man.
Sure, boys, I'll do that.
We edged through a low steel door. Peace slammed it. In front of us was the ' trunk ', a heavy bronze tube running out of sight into the bulkhead. Hung round it from the steel beams were sacks of onions for the galley. It struck a homely note. Peace flung his weight against the big locking dogs and snapped open the hatch into the tube.
Aren't there any lights?' I asked.
Peace's voice came from inside. Somewhere here is a self-illuminating dial. Quick!'
MKG gave a quick glance about and edged in. I followed. Peace clamped the hatch shut behind us. I felt the smooth polish of the coffin-like interior. It is one thing to be shown an escape apparatus as an interested bystander, another to stake one's life on it. I wished I had listened more carefully to Bob Peters.