But then he’d watched and listened, quietly shadowing the American boat, as it moved steadily westward into the Strait of Tsushima before entering the Sea of Japan, never submerging. There was nothing in the textbooks that offered a precedent. Normally, American submarines submerged once far enough off shore to do so safely. It was only logical since modern submarines weren’t designed for travelling on the surface, so the Seawolf’s activities caught him off guard.
A puzzle to be certain, and he didn’t like it.
His boat was operating deep and in ultra-quiet mode. No unnecessary personnel were up and moving about. Men on duty moved in their stocking feet to eliminate the sound of their boots on the deck. All hatches were closed, and there was no movement between the compartments. He’d taken every possible measure to make his submarine as quiet as possible, knowing the Seawolf was — quite probably — the most capable submarine the Americans had ever made.
“What do you think, Captain?” his executive officer whispered quietly.
They’d received an intelligence report about the Seawolf having been damaged in an “incident” off the North Korean shore, but while observing the American through his periscope, he’d seen no sign of damage. Konolov shook his head thoughtfully, wishing he knew why the Seawolf was still riding on the surface. It made no sense, even if it did make his job easier. Riding on the surface as she was, the Seawolf was only too easy to keep track of. “Strange,” he admitted softly, aware that every sound could potentially give his boat’s position away. “Very strange.”
“Maybe she can’t submerge?” his XO asked foolishly. “You know, because of damage, maybe she’s heading home.”
“If she were going home, she wouldn’t be heading into the Sea of Japan,” Konolov answered simply, “Besides, if she were so badly damaged she couldn’t submerge, they never would have let her leave port.” He shook his head thoughtfully.
“Then what?” his XO asked in annoyance. He, too, didn’t like the riddle.
“I don’t know.”
Chapter Ten
“Lieutenant Whitaker down,” Kristen reported as she stepped off the ladder from the bridge. She glanced about self-consciously, expecting everyone to be staring at her and wondering what she and the captain had been doing alone together for so long on the sail. But other than the officer of the deck making an entry in the log indicating she was back inside the pressure hull, no one seemed to notice. She removed her foul weather gear then glanced at the ladder, expecting to see Brodie appear right behind her.
But there was no sign of him. Kristen stowed her gear, but then lingered in the control room, a bit uncomfortable leaving him alone on the bridge by himself.
What if he wanted to talk to you some more, you idiot? What if he thinks you don’t want to be around him?
The thought he might hurt himself never crossed her mind, but she wanted to make certain he made it down safely before going forward.
“Here you go, Miss,” Gibbs said as he delivered a cup of tea. He’d also brought coffee and sandwiches for COB and Graves who’d been in the control room all day. Graves glanced at the ladder leading to the bridge, and she could see he was a bit concerned.
“Thank you, Mister Gibbs,” Kristen told the steward and then asked the XO, “Sir, maybe I should go back up on the bridge until the captain is ready to come down?”
Kristen saw a dark expression of worry on Graves’ face as he looked up toward the sail. For a moment, she thought he would agree with her. But then he shook his head. “No, he’ll be down soon enough.”
Kristen and Gibbs lingered nearly a full hour with no sign of Brodie. She was becoming concerned, but then the sound of the pressure hull being sealed reached the control room and a few moments later, Brodie arrived.
“Captain’s off the bridge,” he said simply as he appeared.
Kristen didn’t know just why he’d stayed at the surface so long, or why he’d remained on the bridge alone for the past hour. He’d violated just about every standard operating procedure since leaving Sasebo. But, as he stepped onto the periscope platform his expression was all business. Kristen saw his cold expression — the deadly serious eyes — and realized whatever part of him she’d been with on the bridge an hour earlier was now gone. He was once more the steady sea captain.
Brodie looked through the Rig for Dive Status book to make certain all compartments had been checked and reported their readiness to submerge. Brodie then glanced at Ryan Walcott. “Ryan, do you have a solid position fix?”
“Aye, Captain,” the navigation officer replied. “We’ve passed through the Tsushima Straits and are entering the Sea of Japan.”
Brodie turned back toward the control center where COB was standing by expecting to dive the boat at any moment as he’d been for several hours. Brodie pulled down a microphone. “Sonar this is Brodie, any contacts?”
Kristen watched, sensing there was a reason for Brodie’s sudden seriousness. Certainly he was not concerned about being attacked. The Seawolf had been on the surface for half the day and would have been photographed by several spy satellites, plus numerous small boats including what Chief Miller reported as a Russian surveillance ship in the area. All would have seen the submarine riding on the surface.
“A Russkie picked us up when we came out of Sasebo and has been keeping us in radar range ever since,” Miller reported.
“What’s a Russian doing out here?” Graves asked Brodie.
Brodie hung up the microphone and whispered to his friend with an amused smile, “I guess the news that the Cold War was over was a bit premature.” Brodie raised the scope and did a quick turn in preparation for submerging the ship, then snapped the handles up and spoke to Terry, who was on duty in the control room, “Officer of the deck, submerge the ship.”
Terry responded as he turned to COB, “Submerge the ship, aye, sir.” Terry then addressed COB, “Diving officer, submerge the ship.”
COB depressed the microphone button on the 1MC. “Dive, dive, dive,” he announced and then sounded the dive alarm, followed by another announcement, “Dive, dive.” COB’s hands were already running over the ballast control panel and Kristen heard the ballast tanks opening forward and knew they were also opening aft as well.
Seawater rushed into the main ballast tanks, making the boat heavier at the same time Brodie fed instructions to Terry, “Ten degrees down angle on all planes. Diving officer make your depth six-zero feet.” His commands were immediately echoed as he again pulled the microphone down from the overhead. “Sonar, this is Brodie, report all new contacts.”
There was a short pause before Miller reported three more submerged contacts, “They are all at a pretty good distance, Captain. We should be able to lose them no sweat.”