This comment enraged him. He wanted to throw Mohsen overboard himself. Two men with $200 million, in the middle of the Barents Sea, surrounded by money-hungry Russians, and he didn’t feel that his life was in danger. It was beyond George. He wanted to tell him that he was in the CIA and that the United States was onto Kuwait and his little plan. He wanted to slap him and dump the money over the side, but he couldn’t. He decided to let Mohsen die in ignorance. Maybe at the last moment he’d say something. He’d wait until then; it might be the last feeling of satisfaction he would ever have.
“Yes, Captain, we’ll be heroes” was what he managed. He looked over again, and Andri was gone. A glance back showed Mohsen bouncing in place like a kid waiting to go to the bathroom. God, I hate him, thought George.
Each man had a light. It was the only way to see one another after about sixty meters. Then the water got black. Andri led. Something in him instinctively gave him a direction. It was like finding a lost child. As the parent, he knew exactly where to look.
He couldn’t help but feel a rush as a tremendous black shape emerged in front of him. A sleeping giant lay before them, waiting to be roused from its bed. A slumber that it was never designed for and never should do again. Andri’s life purpose was at hand, and he was in complete control. He found it hard to contain his pride as he swam over the ship’s dorsal fin and located the escape hatch behind the sail. He was afraid that the Saratov would be encrusted with sea creatures, but that was not the case. Someone had been smart enough to cover the entire ship with a thin coating of grease, discouraging any small animals from making the submarine their home.
He and three other men entered the chamber and closed the rest out. Andri pulled a lever, and compressed air blew the water from the chamber. It smelled bad and musty. Yet to him, it was a wonderful aroma. They descended into the ship and tightened the hatch so the others could follow.
Inside, the four men went to their positions without speaking. One went forward to the torpedo room, one went to the engine room, and one went to the reactor. Andri went straight to the conn. To anyone else, it might have felt like walking through a coffin. Everything was turned off, and the men had only their lights to guide them. Andri could have found his way without one. The ship was spotless and secure. Nothing was out of place, and he enjoyed drinking in everything he recognized. Finally, command and control.
The compartment overwhelmed him. He had forgotten the attention to detail that he had demanded during the ship’s construction. All the seats were leather with built-in back supports. Many of the surfaces were a polished wood with the gauges embedded in finished metalwork. The room glistened in the beam of his light. He was jarred from his trance when a small voice spoke over the intercom.
“Conn, this is the reactor room.”
“Go ahead,” he replied.
“The batteries are almost completely drained. There is enough power for some lights if you require it.”
“How’s the reactor?” Andri wanted to surface as soon as possible.
“Ready to begin winding up. I’m awaiting the order to drop the controlling rods.”
“You have the order. Start up the reactor.”
His moment had arrived.
Jim had listened to the whole thing. He heard the divers swim to the sub, enter, and bang around on the inside. Now he was listening to pumps on the vessel begin to push water in and out of the turbines in the engine. Bumper stood by, pointing out when the reactor began to fire. He started the computers and immediately recorded the signature. “He’s ours now, Cap. We’ve got a print. Once he starts, his screw we’ll get that too. It’ll make him a hell of a lot easier to find.”
This guy is a fucking maniac. Seven men to raise a sub? Jim wondered what the ship looked like. He poked his head into RRCC to see what Josh could provide. “You got anything?”
“Sure have,” he replied. Josh found a satellite running right over the freighter. He was pleased because his whole network had come in line exactly as the freighter stopped. He would have window after window to observe what was about to happen. “Come take a peek.”
The freighter was in full view. He raced the lens up along its decks to give Jim a picture of what it looked like. He briefly stopped on the two men looking over the side, and then zeroed in on a crane operator dropping a cable inside a dark cargo hold. “Gee, I can’t guess what will be coming out of there,” he said with much sarcasm.
“All we can do is watch the show,” Jim commented. He wanted some solution, but he couldn’t think of any at the moment.
Mikhail poked his head in to glance at the screen.
“Don’t say it,” Jim warned. He knew Mikhail’s opinion and didn’t want to hear it again.
Bumper stuck his head around the corner. “She’s pumping out the ballast, Cap. Reactor’s at sixty percent. Enough to get her going.”
“Thanks, Bump.”
They waited a few more minutes, staring at the freighter on the screen. Nobody had anything to say. Bumper stuck his head around the corner again.
“She came off the floor and is holding at two hundred. I think she’s charging her batteries.” He returned to sonar.
“Seven men holding a ship at two hundred.” Jim couldn’t believe it. “I am intrigued, I hate to say.”
“Look here,” Josh said, pointing. “The crew’s coming up to see her break the water.” He motioned to a file of men emerging on the deck of the freighter. They joined the two others in looking over the rail.
Another ping ran through the ship as the freighter tried to locate the Saratov.
Nick was one of the last to arrive on the deck. He spotted Marina looking over the side with the rest of the men, anticipating the arrival. The little man she had beaten a day and a half early was there too. There wasn’t any doctor, so he wore a makeshift sling for his arm, and his nose was covered in bandages. His eyes were completely black but lacked any swelling.
Nick had tried to case the freighter on the trip but found every door to the holds locked and inaccessible. He didn’t even see Marina, though his cabin was next to hers. She ignored him when she emerged, which he agreed was good. She, mentally, was in her own zone. There was no room for error from here on out.
Sasha briefly made an appearance every so often to see how everyone was getting on. The submarine crew members kept to themselves. If you weren’t in the mess, then you were in your berth.
The moment was close. For the first time, there actually seemed to be a sense of camaraderie within the crowd. Even Sasha had forgotten his arrogant flippancy for the moment. Nick moved to the rail and looked out himself. He didn’t look down but out. He saw it moving in fast. The water was calm, but a huge storm was on the horizon and headed straight their way. He calculated that they had about three hours before it hit. Then all hell would break loose. He hoped he’d be on the sub by then.
“Where the fuck are the destroyers?” That’s what bothered Jim. The freighter had waltzed in and parked without so much as being questioned.
“Huh,” Josh responded. His mind was elsewhere.
“The destroyers? Where are they?”
Josh flipped to infrared and pulled the lens back to locate the four ships that regularly patrolled the area. They weren’t gone. They were conveniently at the edge of their patrol zones. Two were making for the coast in a hurry. “Storm must be a bad one. Looks like two are going to port.”
“Hell of a coincidence.”
“It’s no coincidence.” Mikhail had been listening around the corner. “Stemovich went to great lengths to raise his sub. Those ships aren’t that far away by accident. It’s by design. There’s too much going on here to just hand over a ship to the Kuwaitis.”