Carter closed and sealed the carrying case as Barber fired a burst from his Mac 10. Someone groaned.
Going aft was out of the question, as was the conning tower. The guards would be expecting them to come out that way.
"Dog the hatch!" Carter shouted. He slung the carrying case over his shoulder and went to the forward hatch that led into officer country, beyond which were the torpedo rooms and missile launch facility.
Barber joined him a moment later. "What are you doing, for crissakes?"
"We can't go aft, and they'll be watching for us to come up through the conning tower," Carter said, stepping into the radio room.
Barber came in and started to close the hatch.
"Leave it mostly open," Carter told him. He went to the forward hatch and opened it. No one was there.
"But they're coming!" Barber protested.
"If they see that the hatch is open, they'll think we went topside," Carter said. He stepped through into the main corridor into officers' territory. "Get your ass in gear, Tom," he shouted back.
Barber raced across the radio room and ducked through the hatch.
"This one we close," Carter said. While Barber was closing and dogging the hatch, Carter hurried forward past the officers' wardroom, battery room, and around the missiles in their launching tubes.
The klaxon seemed far away here. For the moment the search would be concentrated aft, and up in the conning tower itself. But it would not take them very long to realize what had happened.
Their biggest and most immediate problem, however, was Morgan who had planted plastique on the hull of the sub. By now, if he had followed orders, he would have set the timer and would be on his way out. Carter and Barber would have to get well clear of the sub before it exploded if they wanted any chance of survival.
The torpedo room hatch was closed. Carter held there until Barber caught up.
"Is there any way of finding out what's going on inside?" Carter asked.
Barber shook his head. "Not short of getting on the boat's comms."
Carter stepped back and raised his Mac 10. "Open it," he said.
Barber looked from Carter to the hatch and back.
"Come on, Tom. We're running out of time here."
Barber seemed to snap out of his daze. He turned to the hatch, spun the wheel, and yanked the heavy metal door open, then stepped back.
The torpedo room was dark except for one red light overhead in the middle of the room near the forward deck hatch ladder.
"Someone has gone up," Barber whispered. Whenever a hatch to the outside was opened at night, white lights were routinely doused in the compartment directly below.
Carter stepped into the compartment and hurried to the ladder where he cautiously looked up. The hatch was open. Someone had been in there and had gone up at the sound of the alarm.
Carter stepped back. They couldn't return the way they had come. This was their only way out. And they had to get out now.
"What's wrong?" Barber asked.
"Put your hands up," Carter said.
"What…?"
"Put your hands up. Now! And no matter what happens, keep them up!"
Barber stepped back and raised his hands over his head. Carter laid his Mac 10 down, pulled out his stiletto, and stepped behind the ladder.
"I have him here," he called up through the open hatch in Russian. "He is here! Help me!"
Carter could not see up into the open hatch, but Barber could and he stiffened and stepped back. If there were more than one Russian up there, he and Barber would be in big trouble, the Killmaster thought. But they were already in trouble, so a little more wouldn't matter.
A pair of legs appeared on the ladder. Carter stepped farther back into the shadows as the rest of a Soviet sailor came into view.
"Who is he…?" the Russian started to ask, when he realized that something was wrong. He started to raise his handgun.
Carter stepped around from the opposite side of the ladder and glanced up through the open hatch. They were in luck this time. No one else was up there, though he could hear sirens screaming all over the sub pens.
The Russian, sensing that someone was behind him, turned around. Carter stepped into him, his left hand clamping over the man's mouth while with his right he drove Hugo's razor-sharp blade into the man's chest, piercing his heart.
It was over in seconds. The Russian's eyes went wild, he stiffened for an instant, and then his legs collapsed under him, blood pouring down the front of his uniform.
Carter laid the body on the deck, pulled out his blade, and sheathed it without taking the time to clean off the blood. Barber had stepped back in horror, his hands still over his head.
Carter snatched up his Mac 10. "Let's go," he said, and he scrambled up the ladder. He stuck his head up just barely over the edge and looked outside.
Lights seemed to be flashing everywhere around the sub pens, most of them concentrated, however, on the Petrograd's conning tower, leaving the foredeck in relative shadow. There was a lot of activity on the catwalks at the front of the pen; Carter could hear men running, orders being shouted.
In the confusion they would have a chance, Carter figured. But they'd have to take it right now.
He ducked back and looked down at Barber who was just below him on the ladder.
"We're going topside — crossing the deck and jumping into the water. Put your mouthpiece on now, and no matter what happens, don't stop, don't slow down, don't look around — just follow me!"
Barber nodded uncertainly.
"Let's do it, then," Carter said. He clamped the mouthpiece between his teeth, looked up over the edge — nothing had changed — then scrambled the rest of the way up on deck.
Keeping low. Carter moved directly to the port side. As he stepped off the edge of the deck, down into the water, he glanced over his shoulder in time to see Barber right behind him. Then the water was closing over his head, and he swam down and to the left, following the curve of the hull.
He held up to make sure Barber was right behind him, and together they hurriedly swam to the stern of the boat.
Something touched Carter's knee from below, and instinctively he spun left and reached for his stiletto. But it was Morgan. The UDT man appeared in front of Carter's face mask. Barber was right beside them. He appeared to be having trouble breathing again. It was fear.
Carter motioned to his watch and then down to the keel of the boat. Morgan shook his head, indicating that he had not yet set the timer on the explosives.
Again Carter motioned toward the keel, and made a twisting motion with his right thumb and forefinger.
Morgan pointed at his own watch. Carter held up five fingers. Five minutes. Morgan nodded, and motioned off toward the south for them to leave.
Carter started to protest, but Morgan shook his head and urgently pointed toward the south.
The UDT man was right. The chip was more important at the moment than sticking together. Carter held up five fingers again, and motioned for Morgan to head south when he was finished. Morgan nodded, then dived down along the hull toward a spot opposite the boat's nuclear reactor. When he was finished, not only would the Petrograd be a thing of the past, but so would the entire submarine base. All the water in the pens would be contaminated with nuclear waste, making the base unusable for many years to come.
Carter pulled on his fins, and he had to prod Barber to do the same. When they were ready, they headed out of the Petrograd's pen, swimming about ten feet beneath the surface.
Carter was watching his compass. When he figured they had gone nearly across the turning basin, he turned directly south. They would not be able to return the way they had come across the roadway atop the levee. There would be no way of getting up there from the water. Instead they would take the ship canal out to the end of the levee and climb up on the rocks.