They moved through the water at a snail's pace, ready for anything.
CHAPTER 16
Waters hadn't expected such a feeling of claustrophobia aboard the Obama. In all his years with the NCIS, he had been on surface vessels so many times he had lost track of the number. His work had brought him onto submarines before, but always when they were tied up in port. This was his first time aboard a nuclear submarine when it was at sea, and he wasn't sure that he liked the experience. The cramped positions aboard were unbelievable, and everytime he moved he kept banging his head off something, or his elbow, or some part of his anatomy. The noises unnerved him. Especially when they went deep.
It wasn't an easy situation to stay on top of. Aboard a submarine he couldn't just step off. There was nowhere to go. The talk aboard was also making him uneasy. Imminent orders to launch a nuclear strike.
The situation aboard was also unprecedented. Never in all his years had he handled such a strange situation.
There was a strange, palpable fear on board the Obama, and suspicion and mistrust were rife. Waters spoke at length with Hobbs about the unique situation they found themselves up against. Of all the personnel aboard, he found her the easiest to get along with, probably because of her investigator background. The fact that she used to be a cop helped. He trusted the captain too, but his earlier row with the man hadn't helped matters. It wasn't by an means an ideal state of affairs.
Hobbs was as perplexed as he was by the state of affairs aboard the Obama. Waters knew by this stage that she also had a good rapport with the captain, and knew he could use this as a conduit to the man and hopefully avoid any further misunderstandings and antagonism. He knew too he could probably trust her to discuss his newfound feelings of claustrophobia. He had learned that it was also Hobb's maiden voyage aboard a submarine. He put the question to her.
"Claustrophobia?" she queried, surprise in her eyes. It was an unexpected question from the NCIS man. She looked at him anew.
There was a chemistry between the pair that was electric, although finding intimacy aboard a submarine was nigh on impossible.
Things simmered.
CHAPTER 17
Emergency Action Message.
Grant read the message with a rising trepidation and no small amount of foreboding. The XO saw the look on his face. "What is it?"
Russell handed him the message without speaking. He turned to the senior weapons officer. "Get the authenticator codes."
Pirman's voice was very subdued. "A strategic launch… nuclear warheads."
A tense silence fell over the control room.
"Codes are authentic, captain."
The XO agreed.
Russell sighed. He turned to Cobb. "Bring us up, Chief," he ordered. "Level off at one hundred feet and commence hovering."
The captain picked up the 1 MC. "Crew of the Obama. Man battle stations — missiles. This is not a drill. Spin out missiles one to five for strategic launch, and seven to eight."
The silence aboard was uncanny.
CHAPTER 18
Waters was aghast.
"You're not seriously going to launch a nuclear strike, Captain?"
"I have my orders, Agent Waters."
"But they're crazy orders. COMSUBPAC must be out of their minds." Waters was aware that his voice had risen stridently.
Russell's eyes narrowed and he turned to his XO. "Get the COB to Control now," he ordered. "With his sidearm."
"Sir, please," interceded Hobbs.
It was in that moment that Russell realised the depth of feeling between Hobbs and Waters. His face softened. Love was an emotion he could understand, although it was an emotion alien to a nuclear submarine in a heightened state of alert.
"Conn, Sonar. Torpedo in the water, Captain." Hones' voice was urgent.
Russell started. "Christ… where had that come from?"
"All hands man battle stations," he ordered. "Diving officers… take us deep. Launch a full array of countermeasures. Man battle stations torpedoes."
"1200 yards," Hones intoned. The faces of the crew grew tense. No submariner liked to be under attack. On a surface vessel, one could always grab a life jacket and jump overboard, but a submarine was a different kettle of fish. You either survived with your shipmates or invariably the vessel was sunk with the loss of all hands. Escape was a slim possibility at best.
It was the life they had chosen.
New orders had come in.
North Korea had fired a barrage of Rodong and Musudan missiles at Japan, and according to National Command Authority had developed and tested the Taepodong-2 which had the capability of reaching the western shores of the United States. The Taepodong-2 was an inter-continental ballistic missile capable of flying thousands of miles and armed with nuclear warheads.
"Man battle stations… missiles."
Grant's voice left no doubt that this was deadly serious, and moments later the equally terse orders of the XO came over the 1MC. "Man battle stations… missiles," he confirmed. "This is the XO. This is not a drill. Spin out missiles one and two and prepare to deploy."
The crew had trained for this very scenario, although more than one were biting their lips in anxiety. The two missiles mentioned were the ones that carried nuclear warheads. The men moved like a well oiled machine, having trained for this very scenario time after time. They couldn't allow emotions to interfere with what they had to do. It was the nature of their job.
In the missile room, the Virginia's technicians readied the missiles for deployment.
Russell's voice sounded calm in control. "Maneuvering, bring us to launch depth."
The Virginia glided upwards.
"Conn, maneuvering. Launch depth."
"Commence hovering," Russell ordered. "Open missile doors."
"Doors open, captain."
Russell addressed his next remarks to communications. "Anything further from SUBPAC?"
"Negative, sir."
Russell scowled and turned to his weapons deployment people. "Target package confirmed?"
"Confirmed, captain."
"Remove tactical firing pin."
"So removed, captain."
"Fire one," the captain ordered.
"One fired, sir."
Russell took a deep breath. His voice was subdued when he spoke again. "Fire two."
"Two fired, sir."
The birds were in the air. There was no going back now. The men grew silent. Fearful."
The tension aboard was palpable and could have been cut with a knife. Russell turned to communications. "Inform SUBPAC. Missiles deployed."
"Aye, aye sir. Notifying SUBPAC."
Washington would know within the hour.
The die was cast.
A confrontation was brewing between Hobbs and Davids. Both had been in the mess at the same time and somehow Davids had become aware of the intense scrutiny he had been receiving from Hobbs. He was waiting for her outside the mess when she finished eating and emerged from the mess and his voice was turbulent when he addressed her. "What's your problem, Hobbs?" he asked, his tones aggressive. "Are you a submariner or some kind of cop? A dirty spy put in to annoy us?"
His aggression surprised her and took her aback. Her previous encounters with the man had always been mild affairs and she wondered had he somehow instinctively figured out that she had him pegged as a possible killer in much the same way as a cornered rat leaving a sinking ship. Had she somehow given him a signal that he was now high on her list of suspects? She didn't think she'd given him any such hint but perhaps he'd heard from another crewman that she had been asking questions about him. The seaman's face was contorted with rage, a suffused look that gave him a wild, mad look like that of a rabid dog.