Levi wasn’t going to let him push all the responsibility onto him. “Maybe so, Mr. President, but remember, you took my advice because you saw the opportunity to achieve your own goals. You never once were that concerned with who got hurt as long as you could use the situation to your advantage. You didn’t seem to mind if those Arab bastards got nuked. Now you’re squeamish because some Russians got blown to pieces. It happens every fucking day in the CIA. It’s the cost of doing business! It’s the price of fame, Mr. President. Live with it!”
“You’re fired!”
“My ass! You fire me, and I go to the press. I’ve got nothing to lose.”
“You’ll destroy the credibility of the United States.”
“Try me, Mr. President. I have about the same amount of morals and ethics as you.”
Levi left. He didn’t care. He knew his job was intact. Over his lifetime, he had held many things over many people’s heads. Now he owned the president of the United States. He could see it on the man’s face. It was a good feeling. Maybe I should have voted for him, he thought as he exited.
In the CIA building, everyone was glued to the TVs. Phones and faxes poured in, and the people seemed to handle the work without taking their eyes off CNN. That included Dan and Sharon. Dan watched it on his private TV in his office while Sharon watched at her computer.
Shit is going to hit the fan now, he thought. An incredible anger welled inside his gut. Levi had been sloppy, and this was the result. If the War Eagle and the Saratov proved to be victims of his incompetence, Dan wasn’t sure if he would be able to restrain himself.
Sharon came to the door. “Can you believe this?”
“No. I can’t.”
“Did anyone see this? I mean, didn’t we know about the troops and everything?”
“Who knows? That was Levi’s area. If his people knew about it, he sure didn’t do anything to stop it.”
Sharon shook her head. “He’s such a boob.”
“Maybe I can make a call or two to find out how this thing went down.” Dan flipped through his Rolodex and found the number of another agent in the building. “Hello, Max. You’ve been watching CNN?” There was a momentary pause as Dan’s face grayed. “You have got to be shitting me! How long ago and how come no one has heard about it?” He listened intently to an explanation. The wait made Sharon nervous. “Okay, Max. Thanks.” He hung up the phone.
“I take it there’s more news?”
“Max says that Anthony DeCurtis resigned, and Levi was appointed to the director’s chair.”
She was stunned. “That’s why he was with the president at the news conference. He’s in charge now.”
“I guess I’ll be looking for a new job.”
“Both of us,” she replied.
They felt the Saratov rise to the surface. The question was why? Moments before, Marina had picked the lock to her cabin, but she didn’t want to exit until they had formulated a plan. Something that could help her country. “Why are we up, Nicholas?”
“I don’t know. It could be for several reasons.”
The next sound they heard was the great door sliding back on the missile bays of the sub. Then the whine of the hydraulic lift as it pushed the loaded carriage above its back.
“Nicholas, he lied. He plans to launch!”
It was troubling, but Nick still felt that Andri was sincere in his statement about the bluff. There had to be another reason, and he couldn’t wait any longer to find out. “Let’s go.” He opened the door.
They sneaked down the corridor to the bridge. Everyone was at their stations, with Sasha in Nick’s chair at the dive control. Above they saw that the hatch to the sail was open, and Andri was out looking across the horizon.
Everyone was too engrossed in their work to notice the two slip up the ladder toward him. Nick felt he had no alternative. Andri had to explain. If he did plan on a launch, then Nick would have to do something before the order could be executed. Perhaps even kill him.
Once inside the sail of the ship, Nicholas climbed up alone. Marina followed halfway but stayed below so she could listen to the conversation the two would have. Nick’s emergence on the deck of the sail startled Andri.
“Nicholas?”
Nick could now see the missiles raised above the deck. Each sat in its own slot on the carriage with the hammer and sickle painted on the cones. “I thought you weren’t going to launch.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why are you surfaced?”
Andri raised his arm and pointed straight into the sky. “I want the enemies of my country to know that we are serious. I’m sure the United States, like Russia, will have satellites mapping this area within the next few hours. Then I’m sure they will confer and decide that we’re still prepared to follow through. Ochinkin and the Congress will have no alternative but to surrender to my comrade in the city.”
“All for show.”
“Yes. All for show. Missiles can’t be launched until the firing board is fed the coordinates for Moscow, and the firing pin is pushed. That computer is on the bridge, and I have given no orders for anyone to do that. My fight is over. It’s in the hands of my comrades now.”
Nick was relieved. The tactic made sense, especially since he knew for sure that the United States had something up there looking down. He was impressed by the educated guesses Andri was making. He had played his plan out thoroughly and perfectly. “Did you provide for the possibility that your friend in Moscow may very well fail?”
“There are many places where we could run to. Cuba, for instance. He will not fail, though. He commands a sizable force, and he is not afraid to use it. I predict that Ochinkin will surrender within several hours.”
It was only a moment. It was the instant when everything fell apart.
It started with the warning bells on the Saratov sounding. Then the missile carriage swung around and pointed south. Andri grabbed the mic to order a stop to the missile, but he was interrupted by his sonar man screaming something about “flooded tubes.” Then there came the launch. The missile ripped off the carriage and began to climb. Nick and Andri stood in utter amazement, neither knowing what to say. The words came clearly over the speaker, bringing them back to life. It was the sonar room. “Tubes flooded, torpedoes fired, submarine directly astern.”
The words gave Nick a moment of terror, yet Andri remained calm. “Close missile bay. Prepare for crash dive.”
Jim had no time to think. Sonar had reported the Saratov on the surface. He had watched her cruise through the sea on Josh’s monitor and still he had held off firing even when the missiles were brought up. They didn’t seem to have an aggressive posture, since the carriage lay motionless with the nose of the missiles pointed precariously at the water. It was almost like a maintenance check. Jim still wanted to get closer. He gambled that he could. He didn’t expect the carriage to suddenly react and point south. That’s when he blurted out, “Fire tubes one and two! Fire tubes one and two!”
Lincoln responded that the torpedoes were away before Jim watched the missile lift from the deck of the Saratov. He was still too late. The torpedoes weren’t even close when the missile took flight. It left him with a sinking feeling, and now he was in for a fight.
“She’s headed down,” the sonar room reported.
Jim had watched it all. The missile, the two men scramble inside the sub, and the bays close and submerge. Something wasn’t right. He had been watching the men in the sail as the missile fired. It surprised them as much as Jim. It didn’t seem deliberate.