What would his old friend, Brud Folger, have done at this point? How would the master navigator balance the data on his charts with the weather in the Arctic and the wiles of an experienced Soviet submariner?
Reed slowly massaged his eyes and temples until relaxation overspread his body. It was an acquired habit and the end result was always the same — he began to doze and dream. Brud had been a sailor, too, They’d crewed together at Annapolis, and a few times in later years whenever they were stationed nearby. He remembered the time he and Lucy had agreed to vacation together with the Folgers. A yacht had been chartered in the Bahamas for a week, but at the last minute Brud’s submarine had been kept at sea and the Reeds were left with a yacht too large for two people to handle. What would they do with that big boat for just the two of them? It had already been paid for and this was the last time he’d be able to get away for a long time. Lucy Reed had made the decision — we need a crew, she said, why not the kids? All six had been sailing since they were six weeks old, and even the littlest could follow simple directions.
Was she ever wrong about something like that when her mind was made up? he mused. Lucy arranged a small loan from the local bank to cover plane tickets for the kids, helped to prepare early homework with their teachers at school, and the day before they were ready to leave she had them all packed and ready. And it ended up being the most glorious vacation the Reeds had ever experienced.
Andy had fond memories of one moonlit evening in particular. They were anchored off Eleuthera. Their oldest had finally given up trying to stay awake and unrolled his sleep mattress by the bow. Andy went below and mixed the final Anejo punch of the evening. Then he and Lucy sipped and watched the moon reflect off the white sand along the shore.
“Here’s to Brud,” Lucy murmured. “He didn’t know it — and he’s probably still blaming the U.S. Navy for his troubles — but he’s done more for this family than a million dollars ever could.”
“Brud, wherever you are, we hope you know the Reeds are thinking of you with affection… for not being able to make it,” he added with a soft chuckle.
Lucy looked into his eyes in the moonlight, her face as serious as it ever could be. “We’ll never be able to do this again, will we? What I mean is that we’ll never have a chance again to get to know our kids like this… or for them to know us.” She wet her lips thoughtfully. “Do you know what I mean, Andy? It’s never like this at Christmas or any other holiday, and Timmy will be off to college next year. It’s hard enough to get kids to do anything with their parents when they’re teenagers — and we’ve got three teenagers with us!” she exclaimed.
Nonetheless, it was a wonderful week. The Anejo rum seemed smoother each time, complementing the fresh lemon and lime juice so perfectly that he could have put away a dozen of them that night. That vacation had been a little over three years ago, but it came back so vividly. His daughter, Tammy, had decided after only a couple of turns at the wheel that she was never going off to college — the life for her was the sea. She was going to go into her own charter business and spend all her time sailing through the Bahamas and the Caribbean. At thirteen, what could be more romantic?
Dick had been fifteen at the time and nothing around home had ever suited him. It didn’t matter whether it was having to make his bed, or putting his dirty clothes in the hamper, or mowing the lawn. Nothing was ever right and nothing was ever his fault. There were days when it was hard for Andy Reed to live in the same house with him.
Yet out here on the ocean, he’d changed overnight. He took his turn at the wheel with gusto and there was never a complaint about handling the sails, washing down the deck, or any of the constant chores that had to be done when eight people lived so closely together on a small craft. He even volunteered to help with the more difficult work, anticipating the moments when his father would need help.
The oldest, Timmy, was the quietest. But when they were out of sight of land, he was the one hanging over his father’s shoulder to learn how to pilot the boat through the islands. He’d become quite a navigator in just a short week. He managed to replace the great navigator, Folger, who would never let anyone else help once he’d laid out his charts. But Timmy Reed became equally proficient in those seven days, challenging his father to contests to see who’d be the first to sight a landmark or pick the correct moment they’d drop anchor each night. He usually won.
Now, both Timmy and Dick were off to college. Neither one had any desire to follow their father to Annapolis, but that never disturbed Andy as it did so many of his peers. Considering his situation now, racing toward the North Pole five hundred feet under the ice pack, he was sure they’d all made the right decision.
The big fish had been the highlight of their final days on the water. The youngest, the unplanned-for Kevin, became the fisherman of the Reed family during that trip. He was the one who loved to run down to the nearest stream wherever they lived to fish for sunny and bullhead. As soon as they were in open water in the Bahamas, he was the one who used to troll for hours from the stem, his bare feet dangling over the side. Kevin had the patience of Job. He would sit there forever, occasionally reeling in so that one of his brothers could put on a new plug for him.
The big fish had struck the last day. Andy remembered the screams of excitement from the stern. It sounded as if someone had fallen overboard, but when he poked his head through the hatch he saw Timmy with his arms already around his little brother’s waist. Little Kevin held tightly to the pole while the line fairly screamed out. Lucy was at the helm and he still remembered her words as he stared dumbly at the scene on the stem. “For God’s sake, Captain, do your duty and get aft and help the boy. Something big just jumped back there.”
It had taken more than an hour and Kevin needed help from each of them, but Andy had finally leaned over the rail and gaffed a handsome sailfish. When they entered port that night, all the people wandering the docks had come down to take pictures of the little boy who happily posed with the fish that stood twice as tall as he. It was something Kevin would never forget all his life, and it was a picture that Andy Reed still carried in his wallet. Whenever he settled into a wardroom, every junior officer had heard that the first thing to do was ask the admiral if he had a picture of his son with the big fish.
Each of the children had experienced something they would never forget. As he dozed now, he realized that it would be one of the happiest memories he and Lucy would retain. How he missed her now! Remembering things like that brought back so much… and it was always Lucy who was smiling back at him through those memories. It didn’t matter whether it was a simple picnic on a Sunday afternoon or the traditional meat loaf dinner she prepared whenever he was getting underway. Always — always Lucy was smiling, never asking when he was returning. Just sending him off with “all the love he could handle” were usually her last words when she said good-bye.
How could any man be so lucky?
“Admiral.” The sharp voice competed with the knuckles rapping on the bulkhead. “Sir, the captain sent me down to inform you we just copied our normal message traffic. We have a position report on a Soviet burst transmission, probably a sub, no more than two hours ahead. The captain said he sure could use your help in the control room.”
“Thank you. Tell him I’ll be right up just as soon as I get a little cold water on my face.” Cold water — that would clear his head. He had to find out how much time had elapsed since that Soviet transmission. Danilov could already have chosen where he planned to make his stand. A weather update in the last traffic might answer that. There was no doubt that if the Russian made a move from Murmansk, the U.S. would make one also from Thule.