'The Kremlin is sceptical,' Rackham went on 'so we have to persuade them that their second strike capability is at our mercy. The President of the United States and the Allies yesterday ordered Nato forces and the United States Navy immediately to seek out and sink a number of Soviet SSBNS. All our surface forces are remaining at Rule of Engagement 14, while Nato and American submarines and maritime air forces get on with Operation so, an unimaginative code name for seek and destroy. The Americans, through CINCPAC in Hawaii, will execute SDE (East). Nato, through COMSUBLANT in Norfolk — and that means me, as COMSUBEASTLANT for operational purposes — will execute sow (West).' He paused, waiting for the North Polar chart to be projected.
'The Yanks are already taking up their SDE stations,' he went on. 'We've got to get a hustle on, because the President won't be able to stay the Soviet's hand for long: if they suspect we're bluffing, their fingers will be back on the button.' He looked around at the silent officers sitting in the crescent before him: 'If we fail, gentlemen, it remains to be seen whether the policy of deterrence during our lifetime will have saved mankind from the unthinkable.' He nodded towards the land map of Europe. 'We hope that the Warsaw Pact armies will continue merely to glare at us across the Central Plain — while the West's navies get on with Operation sow.' The admiral stabbed a finger at Coombes:
'Remember, both of you, that though you are key pieces in Operation SDW, you're only a small part of the whole: a calculated risk is being taken in committing our total submarine capability to this operation — both in the Atlantic and the Pacific. In deciding how many SSBNS we are to destroy, the politicians have had to weigh up the Soviet's probable reaction: if we take out too many, the Kremlin may be tempted in desperation to press every firing switch at their disposal.' He paused and glanced around at his audience before continuing:
'But we must sink enough to carry conviction, to convince them that there remains no such thing as a long-term second strike option available to them — that the rules have changed and they must reconsider. We are, therefore, to destroy a maximum of twenty. We're aiming at ten in our Atlantic patch, leaving CINCPAC to cope with the balance.' Rackham peered at the blown-up chart of the Greenland and the Barents Seas. 'SACLANT is moving his task forces into their SDW positions now. The Carrier Striking Force and Carrier Striking Group Two are already in the Greenland and Norwegian Seas, their LRMPS at immediate notice. Intelligence reports that one Typhoon is repairing at Severodvinsk and will be sailing from the White Sea within the month. The second is expected back in the Kola Inlet from patrol next week; she will be serviced with maximum priority, but she has several defects and, what with her manning difficulties, she can't be ready to sail again for her next mission before mid May. The third is in Polyarny carrying out maintenance and repairs after her shake-down patrol.
'The Director General of Intelligence confirms that the seventeenth of May is the earliest date by which any of these three Typhoons can be ready for sea.' FOSM poked a stubby finger at the dispositions on the screen:
'My submariners should all be in position by the ninth of May, well before you two are on your billets. They have orders to start the operation on the seventeenth of May, by which time Safari is to be in her waiting position — Zulu — here… ' The spotlight picked out the position on the chart, two hundred miles north-east of North Cape. Rackham turned to Farge:
'And you, Farge, must be in your billet by the seventeenth, ready to mark the first of the Typhoons to leave the Kola Inlet.' Rackham paused momentarily for Farge to hoist in the significance of Orcus' mission. 'You are to mark and report a Typhoon for Coombes to sink. As soon as you are certain of the Typhoon's tasked track and speed, you are to make your flash report — two transmissions only, which CINCLANT will intercept and rebroadcast if Safari hasn't already picked it up. From then onwards it'll be up to So/an — and you can come home, Farge.'
The admiral's gaze flickered to each of the silent COs.
'Remember that your mission is complementary to many others — our fleet submarines will all be just as much involved with sow while you, are sinking your Typhoon.' He was pointing out the green-circled crosses showing the focal points on the North Polar chart: 'The difference between their missions and yours is that you are to go specifically for the Typhoons. You are to leave the Deltas and Yankees to your chums, however tempting the target might be — and don't forget that. The Typhoons are for you two only, which is why I have cleared the area of all our boats. Any contact you make will be enemy. I repeat once again, for the benefit of you both…' The admiral's face was hard, implacable. 'Farge, your prime objective for this operation is to mark and report the Typhoon for Safari to sink. You'll probably be bottoming a lot: you may need extra buoyancy for'd in a hurry, so we've decided to fill your for'd tubes with water instead of torpedoes. Because you've got only your stern tubes, you must leave the Typhoon to Safari: your stern tubes are to be used in the last resort only, for self-defence. Orcus is not to attack any target, however tempting: nothing, Farge, I repeat, nothing is to deviate you from your prime objective. Understood?'
Farge nodded. 'Yes, sir — but how many Typhoons can I expect in the Inlet?'
'Two at the moment: one in Polyarny, the other in Severomorsk. I'm hoping they won't sail before you get there on the seventeenth.' Rackham turned abruptly to the captain of Safari: 'Coombes, it's vital for you to be in your Zulu position by the seventeenth.'
'Roger, sir,' Coombes said. 'Have I plenty of time in hand?'
'Not much, because of our deception plans: the staff captain will give you details. You too, Coombes, have one objective only: nothing, I repeat, nothing is to deviate you from your target, the Typhoon. Understood?'
Coombes' massive head inclined slowly. 'Yes, sir. Understood.'
'That's all from me. It's all yours, George.' The admiral glanced at his staff captain, then walked across the room towards the two cos who, with the remainder of the company, had risen to their feet. He shook Coombes and Farge by the hand.
'Good luck.'
The silence was complete while FOSM strode from the room.
The lounge bar of the large pub was packed with Northwood personnel. Uniforms of the three services were preponderant and Farge was lucky to snaffle the last of the circular tables. 'I'll get the beer,' Coombes said, 'Ploughman's?' 'Fine.' Farge took Coombes' cap and set it on the seat of the other vacant chair. He sat down and watched while Coombes joined the queue at the long bar.
An incredible morning! Farge found it hard to believe that during these past few hours Coombes and he were part of reality. It was barely a week since Orcus had been limping home north of Shetland with her damaged casing. And for the first few minutes at Northwood this morning, Farge could not accept that he, captain of HM Submarine Orcus, was to play a vital role in this gigantic and complex Operation sow. After FOSM had left, when the tactical side of Orcus' mission was being explained in detail by the staff captain, Farge's mind at last began to grapple with the practical minutiae. He would remember for a long time the silence in the room while everyone stared again at the blow-up photographs of the Typhoons, the blurred pictures hastily snapped by brave Nato agents: twice the size of the Americans' Ohios, these titanium Typhoons were monstrous engines of destruction.
Farge began to relax. He doubted whether Coombes and he could talk here about sow: secrecy was such that they had been forbidden even to take notes during the staff captain's briefing. They had much to discuss and to co-ordinate together, particularly in the realm of deception, but that would have to wait until they met again next week in Scotland. Secrecy had produced one bonus: both submariners were not to deviate from normal 'between-patrol' routine. While in Loch Alsh and the Inner Sound of Raasay, on the nights of 6 and 7 May, normal leave was to be given. Coaches to Glasgow were out of the question, but a night to each watch in the Kyle of Loch Alsh and Kyleakin was permissible: the wartime attractions of Wester Ross and the Island of Skye resorts were unlikely to tempt jack to break ship. No mention of the impending operation was to be made to any officer or member of the ships' companies until after Orcus sailed during the night of 8 May. Safari and Orcus' sailing orders would be delivered by hand during the forenoon of that Thursday, when the submarines were to be in all respects ready for sea — ostensibly for their next, normal wartime patrols. By then, all routine ranging and noise-trials should have been completed in the Inner Sound.