“Torpedo room reports tubes one and six loaded and ready, Captain,” his weapons officer reported.
“Flood tubes one and six. Open outer doors,” Ahadi ordered. He checked the tactical display, verifying there were no other vessels close by.
“Tubes flooded and outer doors opened, Captain,” came the report a few seconds later.
The two torpedoes were the revolutionary rocket torpedoes designed by the Russians, and could cover the two thousand meters in less than a minute. The supertanker would be split in two, and millions of gallons of Saudi Arabian crude oil would spill into the Persian Gulf. There was nothing but restraint to prevent it, but restraint was enough, this time.
“Very good, weapons officer,” Ahadi concluded. “Close outer doors and secure from battle stations.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“A-hem,” the Russian, Captain Zuyev, cleared his throat, getting Ahadi’s attention.
Ahadi turned to speak with the Russian. He didn’t like only being nominally in command, but he knew the Russian had far more experience handling nuclear submarines than anyone in the Iranian Navy. “Yes, Captain?”
“I would save the Shkval torpedo for emergencies,” he explained. “They are too valuable to waste on something as defenseless as an oil tanker.”
He was right, of course. Ahadi filed the knowledge away, knowing he was still acting like a child with a new toy instead of the professional he was. “What else, Captain?” he asked, wanting a full critique.
“You can’t assume you are the only hunter in the area,” Zuyev explained. “The Americans, French, British… there are numerous other navies that might have a submarine in these waters. They could be sitting quietly just a few thousand meters away. If you launch a torpedo, they will hear you, even if the reactor is dormant. That is when you will need a Shkval.”
Ahadi nodded in understanding.
“Your torpedomen also need practice,” the Russian continued his critique as he removed a cigarette from a pack in his pocket. “Ten minutes to load two torpedoes is ridiculous.”
Ahadi didn’t like the fact his crew was still far from ready. They were improving steadily, but not fast enough. The sooner Zuyev and the rest of the Russian infidels were off his boat, the better. But, for the moment, he needed the Russian, and Ahadi was a patient man. He’d been waiting his whole life for a new Persian Empire.
Chapter Fourteen
Kristen stood in her small, makeshift cabin, the recent encounter with Brodie in his cabin barely thirty minutes old. She’d yet to finish drying her hair or braiding it which she knew would help her push errant thoughts aside. The slow, methodical, intricate French braid took time, and fixing her hair was almost therapeutic to her psyche.
She was overlooking something significant. She couldn’t shake the haunting realization. With effort, she forced thoughts of everything but their mission aside, and focused on the dilemma facing them. She leaned her head against the wall, closed her tired eyes tightly, and gently tapped her head against the metal bulkhead above the mirror. “Think, girl, think,” she told herself. “It’s right in front of you.” She was sure of it. She’d felt it for days, and the certainty was maddening.
She opened her eyes and found herself looking down at the small mirror as droplets of water slowly traced their way down the glass surface. There was nothing at all significant about the drops as they slid inexorably downward toward the deck below, gravity working its magic as it had for billions of years. But, the image shook her memory.
“Water,” she whispered to no one as she stood back up.
Her eyes narrowed in thought as she stared at the water droplets cascading slowly down the mirror and dripping onto the deck. A sudden rush of disjointed images and memories flooded into her thoughts all at once. Literally tens of thousands of pages, chemistry textbooks, classified reports, satellite images… it was like a tsunami of information rushing forth. For a moment it was overwhelming, and she literally had to brace herself against the bulkhead as she struggled to sort through it all. But, the realization came.
She knew.
The knowledge hadn’t been in front of her, but had been in her past, and the memories now rushing forth held the answers.
“Oh, my God!” she gasped, dropped the hairbrush and nearly tore the curtain used as a door to her living space as she rushed out. She pulled the hatch to the passageway open so fast she startled a computer technician who’d been about to come in and check the equipment. “Gangway!” she ordered in a rush and ran down the passageway into the control room where she found the XO seated on the periscope platform doing some paperwork. She didn’t see Brodie anywhere. Kristen desperately needed to see the captain.
No one else would believe her.
Next to Graves was Mike Massanelli, the submarine’s assistant damage control officer, and Kristen assumed the two men were planning the next drill. As she approached, both men looked at her curiously, and she understood why. She looked disheveled. She’d made it a rule never to leave her quarters without looking as professional as she could manage. But now her usually neatly braided hair was hanging in long wet clumps along each side of her head and down her back. Kristen ignored several sideways glances from the control room crew as she walked right up to the XO.
“Lieutenant?” he asked a bit taken aback. “I assume there is a reason for your appearance.”
Kristen didn’t have time to explain, feeling as if one of the Russian submarines haunting her dreams might be right behind them as they spoke. “Sir, I need to see the captain, right away.” Despite her attempt at calmness, she felt her tone might be a little shrill, and she struggled to stay calm as the enormity of what she’d realized continued to reverberate through her.
“What’s happened?” he asked sharply as he stood, his eyes flashing with a hint of anger. Kristen realized he probably thought someone might have sexually harassed her or some other trivial thing.
“Nothing like that, sir,” she assured him. “But it is extremely important that I see the captain at once.”
“Can you at least tell me what it’s about?” he asked, hesitant to disturb Brodie. Kristen knew why. More than anyone else on board, Brodie was pushing toward the brink of physical and mental collapse. They were all tired. It had been one hell of a patrol so far, but the exhaustion Kristen and her fellow crewmen were feeling was compounded in their captain. As the XO, Graves was trying to protect Brodie from being disturbed with trivial matters.
Kristen paused, forcing herself to at least appear calm as the enormity of what she now knew for certain weighed upon her. She glanced about the control room, thinking about how explosive her conclusions were and not certain the information she had should be disseminated to the crew. “I can’t talk about it in here,” she explained. “I’m sorry, sir. But I have to see him right now.”
Graves exhaled deeply, showing a hint of irritation as he did so. His dark eyes studied her sharply, and she understood that if she forced him to disturb the captain and it turned out to be nothing, she would pay a serious price. “Okay, Lieutenant,” he told her skeptically. “I’ll take you to him, but it better be damn important because he’s supposed to be sacked out.”
Kristen followed the towering Graves aft to officers’ country and the captain’s cabin where Kristen hoped Brodie would still be awake. At the door, the XO hesitated a moment and glanced back at her. “Are you certain about this?” he asked seriously. “Because if you aren’t…”