“Commander Blake USN.”
“Hi, Commander. It’s Captain Doug Stanley, USS Minnesota. I believe you have red bastards up here you want some help with?”
“Captain Stanley. Welcome to the cold place. Yes, we’re expecting they’ll be along soon, sir.”
“Nathan, I outrank you, but Kamov tells me that you’re in command of operation Ninety Degrees North. That suits me, Blake; just let me at ’em. I eat Soviets for breakfast.”
“Good to know that we’re fighting alongside the Minnesota, sir. It’s an honour.”
“Just tell me where they are, and I’ll fillet the bastards. If you see Ivan, tell him his nuts are on my chopping board.”
Nathan laughed.
“USS Tucson will be here very soon, and USS 73 Easting will follow in a couple of days.”
Nathan nodded; there were some good boats on their way.
“We’re fully charged now, Stanley, and we’ll be down with you soon. We know they’ll be coming from the Polyarny Inlet, so I’m going to meet them as far east as I can. My plan is an ambush: lay in wait and then slaughter them.”
“Sounds good to me. Blake, Admiral Hayek of Pacific Fleet is sending USS Key West and USS Oklahoma City out; USS Chicago won’t be much behind. Anything heading here from Petropavlovsk will face a nasty foe.”
“Good, sir. That’s a help. Northern Fleet will be along soon and I’m sure Pacific Fleet will be joining them.”
“Nathan,” Stanley paused, “it’s your call but let me know where you’ll be, and I’ll wait here for USS Tucson and join the party soon.”
“Right, I’ll put Lieutenant Koss on, our Navigation Officer.”
“I’ll put Blind Sally on too. They can talk the talk. Good luck, Blake.”
“Thanks, sir.” Nathan held the handset out. “Koss, call for you from Blind Sally on Minnesota.”
The 20 of them pushed on against the cutting wind. Lieutenant Rice knew this was a lost cause; CFB Alert was just too far away. Hundreds of miles of unforgiving cold white death. But they had to have a reason to keep going, otherwise they’d all be found up here one day mummified in their Arctic whites.
The only hope was another drone, and he knew that would take time. His fellow SEALs wouldn’t let the Navy brass forget them. They had friends in this world; it was all they had.
“Sir, listen,” said Whitt.
He listened. Just the blowing wind. It was all he could… Then, there it was, aircraft engines, and low too.
“There, sir,” Whitt pointed.
A flare trailed smoke and illuminated the parachute above. A man was parachuting down. Then there were more of them, and every third had a flare glowing, smoking downwards. Had the drone passed on their position to MacDill? Was this their rescue force? Yet another aircraft was dropping a second stick of paratroopers slightly further north.
Two of his men cheered. More followed. Rice broke out into a grin. Yes, yes.
“Come on down, boys. The water’s lovely,” shouted an operator to his left.
“Get a flare gun. Give them a position,” shouted Operator Ford.
One of the aircraft had dropped its stick and circled around. It passed overhead low. Rice’s aircraft recognition skills weren’t the best; it was a turboprop he knew. It looked like an Air Force Hercules. Rice laughed. Even the US Air Force had got out of their warm bunks to join in.
A SEAL skiied up to him; hard to say who it was with snow goggles on and his hood pulled up and down, all flecked with ice.
“Sir,” said Konerko, dejected. “That was an Ilyushin. It’s dropping more of the bastards.”
“Belay that flare,” shouted Rice. “It’s a Russian aircraft. They’re dropping more of the Goddamn VDV.”
Dear shit, thought Rice, that’s just what we needed.
He knew it was time to decide; their lives and the mission depended on it. He called together his NCOs. They gathered and squatted down.
“Ok, if you’ve been on exchange with the SAS, you’ll know what this is: a Chinese Parliament. If you haven’t, just say what you want. Anything goes.”
“I want a hot broad and a beach, sir,” said Operator Melenko.
Rice smiled. “If you can find a payphone up here, just call 1-800 H-O-T-B-R-O-A-D-S.”
“Sir, we double back. Let the Russians go west after us.”
“We don’t know for sure that they know we’re heading west.”
The discussion went on; Rice listened. A consensus slowly emerged. It was a small team to take the scientist and the Mossad officer onwards towards alert. The rest would stay and take out as many VDV as possible.
“Ok,” said Rice, “personnel for this. I really, really want to stay, but I’d be keel hauled by upstairs if I did. So the escape party will be Nils, Marjan, me, Konerko and Carrack.”
“Let me lead the killing force, sir,” said Whitt.
Rice nodded. “The rest of you remain behind to kill as many VDV as possible. Platoon Chief Whitt will be your OC.”
Rice gathered his party together and called over to Whitt, who was already briefing his men.
“Good luck, Whitt. God speed.”
They pushed off to the west, and Rice, for one, had a heavy heart.
“Take her down, XO.” Nathan stood back.
“Chief,” said Nikki, “go up the sail and grab a last smoke and then shut the hatch.”
The Chief disappeared aft. A few minutes later he was back. “Upper and lower hatches closed, sir.”
“Thanks.” She activated the intercom.
“Yes, sir?”
“Chief Engineer, are we charged?”
“Yes, ma’am, all set.”
“Pull the masts down. We’re submerging. Planesman, trim for 100 feet, fore and aft.”
“Aye, sir, 100 feet.”
The boat slipped slowly deeper and the sail disappeared from the icecap.
“One hundred feet, sir.”
“Make your bearing 85 degrees, depth 250, speed 12 knots.” The boat tilted to the bow and slid deeper under the ice.
A couple of minutes later, she came level.
“250 feet, sir, 85 at 12 knots.”
She turned to Nathan. “Commander, the boat is clear of the ice, sir.”
“Thanks, Nikki. Weaps, war load status.”
“One to four Mk48, five being loaded with Deputy Dawg, tube six Scooby, sir.”
Nathan rubbed his temples, he felt tired and he knew it would be a hard time down there. “Weaps, you have the conn. I’m going to grab some sleep. Nikki, come on, meeting now.”
They entered Nathan’s cabin, and he pulled the bunk down and undressed down to his shorts and tee-shirt then climbed into his bunk.
“Nikki, what are you waiting for?”
“What? Here?” She hesitated, then started to unbutton her coverall.
“Not that.” He grinned. “Sit on the chair.”
“Nathan, don’t do that. You had me there.” She hit him lightly with the back of her fist.
“I didn’t.” He frowned. “We need to talk tactics. What do we do when we get down there?”
“You’re a tease,” she pouted.
He knew the situation in hand came first. “I’d like to see a survey of the under-ice environment, valleys, peaks etc. I’d like to set up good ambush and know the hiding points, but you know how it is.”
“Yeah, constantly changing, features forming and being stretched out and reforming somewhere else. We could advance to the area and see what there is?”
“We could, Nik, but now we have company. We haven’t the time to map out all the reverse topography up there. I favour going deep and silent, linking up with the Minnesota and the Tucson, and waiting for them to come through. When we engage, it’ll be every boat for itself. I know you asked the National Ice Center for a FLAP analysis of new ice leads; I saw it in the log. Any luck? Where can we come up onto the lid to charge?”