“Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was real stupid.” Josh had been successful in following the flight of the missile using ODIS. In the intensity of the moment, he had forgotten that such concentrated flashes of light like the ones produced by nuclear explosions could fry the satellite’s delicate circuits. “Shit.” The screen went completely black as he furiously tried to find out if the satellite was toast.
Jim was bewildered. He didn’t know if ODIS had messed up or if he had seen the explosion. “What happened? Did it go off?”
“Yes. It burned up my circuits.” Josh was not happy. He now had to put the satellite in a decaying orbit to let it burn up on reentry. The others would have to be configured to cover up the hole left in the orbit by the ineffective vehicle. Then he’d have to request that another be built and sent up. No one in the air force or the congressional committee was ever glad to see him. Usually Josh’s mistakes ran into the billions of dollars. “Wait a minute. Wait. I’ve got another coming into the window.”
The screen flashed again as the next of ODIS’s flybys took over. Josh was able to zoom in on the area where the missile had detonated. Everything was on fire. It had not landed in a populated place or an area that seemed to have much of anything, but still, the ground was scorched, and the rock acted like it was melting. The territory looked as if hell itself had floated to the surface for a quick vacation and then slipped away.
“My God,” whispered Jim. “They try to prepare you for this, but it still leaves you overwhelmed.”
“Does this mean that we’re at war? Nuclear war?” O’Neal asked.
Mikhail was quick to jump on the question. “Do we know where the missile landed?”
Josh called up the coordinates on the computer and located the nearest community. “Yeah. The nearest inhabited area is a town. Looks to be a small village called Kazymskaya. The explosion was located between three rivers. The Kazym, the Nadym, and a tributary to the Ob.”
Jim was still amazed at the destruction. “How many people do you think he killed?”
Mikhail seemed relaxed. “Not one. Our good captain is smart. He has thought this thing out right down to the last detail. We can’t take anything for granted from him.”
“What?” Jim was perplexed.
“No one was killed except maybe some deer and squirrels. Andri shot the missile at an area that was already polluted with nuclear radiation and waste. Come with me.” He led Jim to the back of the CIC where there was a lone computer terminal. On it, he called up a map of the Soviet Union dated 1948.
“See here. This is a map of Stalin’s Soviet Union three years after World War Two. Here is the area where Andri exploded a missile. In the middle is a small town known as Yertimov. Back in the late forties and early fifties, Yertimov was one of the sites used for experimenting with nuclear bombs and power generators. It was an ideal location, far away from prying eyes. But the Soviet Union made one mistake about this little town…” Andri then pulled up a map of the same area labeled 1949. “See.”
It wasn’t what Jim saw; it was what he didn’t see. Yertimov was gone. Erased from existence. He stated the obvious. “Yertimov is missing.”
“Correct. Yertimov all the sudden didn’t exist. This is from maps that the Soviet Union supplied to the world. Their government removed the town, giving away that something incredible had happened out there. After all, a country doesn’t lose a town in one year.”
“What do you think happened?”
“I don’t know exactly. I can guess that there was an explosion of some kind. Something that makes Chernobyl look like child’s play. I do know they fenced off the region after that. Years later that area was where a lot of radioactive waste went. The place couldn’t support life. I did hear a rumor when I was young that after the accident they didn’t even send in people to pull out the dead bodies. They left them to rot. Nobody looked for survivors. They closed the place in. It was probably recovering when Andri dropped another nuclear weapon in it. He is avoiding killing, for now. He’s setting the table for negotiation.”
Lincoln tapped Jim on the shoulder. “Sir. Should we surface and radio in what we witnessed?”
Jim contemplated the ramification. “No. This didn’t get past the Pentagon. They’re probably at DEFCON 4, and the president is on the line to Ochinkin, trying to sort out the mess. We may confuse matters. Hopefully they can piece the thing together and realize that it wasn’t the United States.”
Over the speaker, they heard the sonar room. “Bridge, sonar. Hull popping. She’s on a crash dive.”
“He’s acting like he’s at war,” stated Mikhail.
“He is,” replied Jim. “His own.”
“Crafty.” Mikhail thought back over the event and smiled when he said this.
“I don’t see it, Mikhail. It’s a bully strategy,” said Jim.
“He is preparing to state that he will do whatever it takes. Time is against him now. There have to be others. Others close to the government.”
“Whose attention does he want? Russia or the United States?”
“Definitely Russia. This was his errand. He’ll be coming back.”
Josh walked up behind them. “I won’t find him again. At least not until he surfaces. That could be anywhere. If you have any suggestions, I could use them.”
Jim reached for the intercom. “Sonar, give me course and speed on the sub.”
“Sub’s headed due west. Sounds like he’s got her wide open. Three hundred and fifty meters and still diving.”
“Still think his next target is Moscow?” asked Jim.
Mikhail nodded. “Moscow has to be a target.”
“Where does he have to be to set up for that?”
“Here.” Mikhail laid his finger in the White Sea in the northwest of Russia. “This is where we can expect him to be in two days. He’ll run right under the ships going out to find him. There will be so much noise that he’ll never be detected.”
“Good. Then neither will we. Lincoln!”
“Aye, Cap.”
“One hundred and eighty degrees about. Bring her to fifteen hundred and secure for silent running. Then all stop.”
“Aye, Cap.”
“If he intended to get someone’s attention, then I’d think that he was looking for something other than war. We’ll let him come to us.” After listening to Mikhail, Jim was beginning to get a feel for Stemovich. He didn’t want to try to guess the man’s entire plan. It would be dangerous to think that far in the future. He wanted to try to think just a few steps ahead of the situation. That he was feeling comfortable with. If the politicians on the surface couldn’t do their jobs, then he would be the last measure. Unfortunately, Jim knew that he would have to make the call when the last measure would have to be used.
Marina was asleep when the launch sequence took place. Her eyes opened when she heard the bells. The launch itself shook her out of her berth. She knew immediately what had happened. She put on her clothes and appeared on the bridge as Andri ordered the crash dive. Everyone hung on in silence as Nick drove the ship deep into the cold waters of the Arctic. He was visibly troubled by the sweat pouring down his face.
“Level at seven hundred meters,” ordered Andri.
“Seven hundred,” rasped Nick. Up until the time it left the carriage, he thought it would never have happened. It was a misgiving from growing up in the nuclear age. Everyone knew that even the craziest of dictators would never launch a nuclear missile. Reprisal would most certainly be swift and severe, with the United States in the forefront. It gave a false sense of comfort for the children of his generation. Hundreds of outcomes ran throughout his head. Most ended with the sinking of the Saratov and his death. What did that matter in the wake of the destruction he had been a part of? How many lives did he have a hand in destroying? Perhaps death would be a good end after all.