“The recall’s already out, Commodore. I figured you’d want to talk to your skippers. They’re on the way over here.”
“Good, Gerry. Get young Maddock of Denver here too. He’s our guru on Soviet tactics and we need a dump on what he knows.”
Carter replied, “Yes, sir, and there’s a special item for you from the CNO.”
Eric opened the message and read:
PERSONAL ADM BAINES TO CAPTAIN DANIS. CAN THINK OF NO ONE BETTER TO CARRY THIS BALL. EVERYTHING DEPENDS ON YOUR SUCCESS. GOOD HUNTING AND GOD SPEED.
Eric knew being closest to the combat area drove his selection as OTC but the expression of confidence from his old mentor pleased him.
Midnight oil burned throughout the Pitstop as his staff formulated plans and hastily buttoned up submarines for sea. Jim Buchanan delegated Jack Olsen to complete details of the change of command. They’d forego the customary ceremony and replace it with a simple handshake in the presence of the assembled crew.
At dawn, four 688s stood ready for sea with fundamentals of their operation plans in hand. They’d proceed toward the Aleutian chain and enter the Bering Sea between Unimak and Unalaska. Next, they’d move off shore from Attu Island and form a line between there and the Soviet Komandorskiye Island. From there, they would pick off any screening units of the Pacific Flotilla as they made their way into the Bering Sea. Details would follow based on subsequent information received on Soviet movements.
One of Dave Zane’s crews spent the entire night installing an experimental laser communications device. It would provide Denver, designated flagship from which Eric Danis would coordinate the attack, with a high security system for transmitting instructions to his task force. Gerry Carter argued unsuccessfully that the operation could be best directed from ashore.
Danis replied, “Gerry, as a young submariner about to deploy on a special operation, our skipper fended off an abundance of useless advice by referring would be advisors to a speech given by Roman Consul, Lucius Aemilius Paulus in 164 BC. Commissioned to fight the wars in Macedonia, inundated with many and conflicting directions, he addressed the Senate. Bottom line, Paulus said he’d take advice only from those willing to go with him to Macedonia.
“I’m a warrior, Gerry, not a senator. My direction will have more meaning if I’m out there sharing the dangers. I’m going with my troops to Macedonia.”
From this came the operation plan title, MACEDONIAN.
The time for good-byes came. Eric Danis had two big hurdles, his first one, Dave Zane.
Dave cautioned, “Now damn it, Eric, you be careful out there. Take it from somebody who knows. It’s sure nice to sit around and do nothing but walk to the mailbox once a month for a retirement check.”
“You don’t think I’d be dumb enough to do something stupid, do you, Dave?”
“No. I just figured I’d like to lower you down the hatch on the end of a mooring line at least one more time.”
Eric recalled the incident in Holy Loch and laughed. “So, do you think we’re not too old to get that smashed, anymore?”
“Problem with us is neither of us are too old for anything. And I don’t want to see that change. God bless and go get ’em, Eric.”
They shook hands and Dave turned to walk away.
“Dave,” called Eric.
Dave stopped and turned; the two shared a serious expression.
“See ya, old buddy.”
After a silent nod to his old friend, Dave turned and walked off.
“Well, Babe,” Eric said to Eve, who had made her way to the Pitstop, “this has to be good-bye number three hundred and forty-two.”
“Three hundred forty-three and I like even numbers.”
He wanted to say more but couldn’t. Fortunately the expression on his face told how much this dear wife and companion meant to him. “I love you, Eve, sweetheart.”
“I love you, Eric. Please come back to me.”
“I will, Eve. Believe me, I will.”
They kissed and Eric boarded Denver
Meanwhile on the dock, Brent held Bea tightly.
“I’m worried, Brent. The feelings you told me about after sinking the enemy submarine … they’re hard to get out of my mind. When I think of our afternoon, the Russian Brent Maddock fills my mind. He’ll never return to his love. Such simple things decide who comes home and who stays out there.”
“Don’t worry, Bea. It doesn’t help anything. Trust, hope and pray. You know I’ll do everything I can to be sure Denver comes back and me with her. I’ve never told you this, Bea. I love you.”
“I feel the same way, Brent. But I need assurance there’s a future with some guaranteed time in it for us, before I can say it.”
“I understand,” then he kissed her and walked the brow to Denver.
Back at Fort Meade, Maryland, The Crypto Analysis Center bulged with personnel. They quickly worked out a computer program that produced plain text from Soviet encrypted traffic upon receipt of each intercepted message. American naval officers read messages ahead of the intended Soviet recipients.
Pete Ryan said, “I can’t believe how much these guys talk about what they’re going to do. New traffic identifies every Red Pacific Flotilla Unit, where they are, the points they’ll pass through and when.
“Marty, look at this. They’re forming a picket line a hundred miles seaward off the lower end of the Kamchatka Peninsula all the way to the Strait. That’s right where they should be. If they reach station before us, we’ve got a helluva tough row to hoe.”
“Right,” said Marty. “They control the air around there too. We can’t operate anyplace but underwater so I guess it’s the submariners.”
Pete asked, “Your buddy Carter out there with ’em?”
“No. They had to leave somebody behind smart enough to keep the submariners’ repair facility from being blown away in the next storm.”
“How do you think we’ll do out there, Marty?”
Furrowing his brow, Marty replied, “Tough call. The more dope we send, the better so let’s stay on top.”
“Well, we’ll pump it out as fast as the Reds pump it in. Just hope our guys are swift enough to move through all that paper.”
President Andrew Dempsey looked at his watch. Senator Darrel Manning had left the President waiting at least twenty minutes for their appointment. Normally the President’s secretary cancelled late shows after five minutes, but this time the senator had him over a barrel. Public sentiment grew steadily against the war and Congress realigned itself accordingly. Manning led the war issue charge and now had enough votes to override a veto and force the President’s hand.
The President adamantly opposed surrender despite popular opinion to the contrary. He believed it the wrong decision and needed time to turn the public around to his view. He hung everything on success of the impending undersea battle in the Bering Sea. All the American people need is a single bit of evidence that we can fight back, Dempsey reasoned. Damn, I hope our submariners give them that. He believed of Manning, The arrogant bastard’s ego is big as a house but if I stroke it right, he’ll give me the time I need, so Dempsey restricted his irritation to merely grinding his teeth.
Andrew Dempsey had defeated Manning by a mere thread in the last election. A major plank of the Dempsey campaign asserted the job of President had grown too big for one man. The voting public needed a greater voice in selecting those who would exercise much of the power so the President’s nominating committee identified prospective Cabinet appointees prior to the election. Dempsey did not like the idea because it diminished his authority over Cabinet members.