“Confidential Informant.”
Brodie advanced to another image. It was a satellite photograph of a naval base. “For those of you youngsters who missed the Cold War, this is the Russian base at Polyarny, near Murmansk on the Barents Sea.” He directed their attention to several slender images of submarines tied up alongside the piers. “This image was taken a year ago and shows the majority of their submarine forces tied up and rusting alongside the wharf. It gives us a pretty good image of the various subs the Russians have built over the last thirty years.” Brodie then used his finger to direct their attention toward several different types of Soviet Era submarines. “We’ve got a smattering of about everything they ever built here. There are some old Echoes, Deltas, a handful of Oscar guided missile boats, as well as some old Sierra flight Ones and Twos.”
The XO advanced the slide and they saw the same view a few days later, “This image was taken from another KH-12 Ikon surveillance satellite during an over flight less than a month after the previous image.” He directed their attention to a series of piers, previously empty, now filled with submarines. “Notice there was some repositioning here. We initially believed they were recycling some of their boats because these piers have been used to decommission and break up older Soviet Era boats.” Brodie signaled Graves who advanced the image once again.
The next image showed a close up of the pier Brodie had drawn their attention to. He then proceeded to point out various pieces of equipment and vehicles on the pier. “As you can see, these piers are swarming with activity which could be dismissed as the Russians decommissioning or stripping these boats prior to recycling except for two significant facts…” Brodie looked at everyone questioningly.
“Those aren’t old submarines,” Ski offered, his expression turning sour. “Those are Akulas and Typhoons.”
Brodie nodded toward his engineering officer. “Very good, Ski. Why on earth would they break up or decommission the latest technology when they have an entire yard of hulks less than a hundred yards away they need to dispose of before the reactor cores fall through the bottom of their rust-ridden hulls?”
Kristen adjusted her glasses slightly, feeling a sudden sinking feeling. Nothing Brodie said sounded very good, and she could see nothing to indicate this would get any better. “They were refitting them and getting them ready for sea,” she whispered thoughtfully, not even aware she’d spoken.
Brodie nodded in agreement. “That’s the conclusion the CIA and Naval Intelligence came to as well, Lieutenant. Except it took them about three months longer than you,” he replied grimly. “Similar activity has been observed in other yards including Vladivostok over the last twelve months. It indicates a resurrection of the Russian submarine forces with regard to readiness and activity.”
“What about their surface navy, sir?” Walcott asked. “Have they been refitting as well?”
Brodie shook his head. “Nope, their surface ships have been sitting pier side collecting dust and seagull crap just as they have for the last fifteen years with no sign of any change in status.” Brodie looked around the room and then added, “Also, there’s no indication the Russian Army has increased their activity either. Just their submarines.”
Kristen took a sip of her tea, watching him closely. She knew she would learn far more by how he reacted to the news, the inflection in his words, and the look on his face than by anything she might be shown from KH-12 spy satellite photograph. She’d come to trust him unconditionally with her deepest and most exclusive secrets and realized the gravity of the situation would be revealed more by his interpretation of the facts than by any black and white photographs.
Brodie nodded to Graves and another image appeared. This one was not quite as clear as the previous ones. Although taken by a satellite, the image was taken at an angle and showed what looked like a long building on the edge of the water.
“This is the Number Seven building at Polyarny,” Brodie told them and tapped the image, directing their attention to something ominous barely visible through the open doors of the building. “This is believed to be the Borei,” he told them. “Formerly known as Project 955. It’s the lead boat of a new class of boomers meant to replace their Typhoons.”
Andy Stahl interrupted, “Excuse me, sir. But I thought they cancelled the 955 program about ten years ago?”
“So did the NSA, the CIA, British Intelligence, and every other intelligence agency I can think of,” Brodie answered bluntly. “Apparently the Russians weren’t reading the same intelligence estimates we were,” he offered with sarcasm in his voice.
Again the image advanced to show the same building from a slightly different angle, except now the ominous looking bow section of the submarine was no longer visible.
“The 688 boat,” he explained referring to a Los Angeles class fast-attack submarine, “we had monitoring Polyarny reported the Borei launched nine months ago and moved to a covered fitting out wharf.”
Brodie signaled Graves who advanced the image again, and they saw a completely different image. It’d clearly been taken from a submarine periscope during a storm showing a hazy image riding low in the water, partially obscured by waves.
“The USS Albany took this photograph through its Type-18 periscope of the Borei coming out of Polyarny.” He turned his attention away from the image and looked at them ominously. “The Albany heard her coming out because of the ice breaker leading her and the usual noise associated with a boat riding on the surface. But once the Russian submerged the Albany lost her.” This was extremely unusual since the Los Angeles class submarines, although dated, were still considered finer than anything any other navy in the world possessed. “This image was taken seven weeks ago and the Borei has not been seen — or more importantly — heard from since.”
Kristen could feel the men in the room squirming uncomfortably in their seats. The Seawolf was a superior submarine to a Los Angeles class, but the differences was more in her armament, her size, diving depth, and other physical characteristics, not so much in her sonar systems. In this respect, the Seawolf was almost identical to a Los Angeles class boat.
“Since this photograph was taken, the NSA, Naval Intelligence, and every analyst we can find have studied the Albany’s digital recordings from the Borei’s sortie. No one has been able to pick up anything other than pack ice in the distance, the ice breaker moving away, and standard biologicals. No plant or pump noise, no blade sounds, no transients at all.” The uneasiness was increasing in the wardroom, infecting everyone.
Kristen nervously readjusted her eyeglasses. She didn’t like where this was leading.
Brodie allowed them to ponder the significance of a Russian boat simply disappearing right in front of an American sub. “For some time the Russian Federation has been selling off virtually anything on a cash and carry basis to just about anyone. They sold off their only aircraft carrier to China and were recently building Akula IIs for the Indian Navy. We don’t know if the Borei was part of this rummage sale and is now in someone else’s navy, or if it is quietly sitting under the Polar Ice cap. We aren’t even certain she has anything to do with whatever it is they are up to…”