Submarine

'Mr Secretary. We need the President's go-ahead. It should be easier, now that he's back from the hills.'

The slight man in the grey suit turned towards Trevellion:

'Would Captain Trevellion like to come along with us to the White House, Jack? Our British friends are in this as much as we are.'

It was the courteous informality which impressed Trevellion as they drove to the White House. It was open knowledge that, since the Soviets had begun making peace noises, the Commander-in-Chief of the American forces had returned from his alternative command centre to the White House, which must inevitably be the Soviets' top-priority target.

The President was waiting for them in the Situation Room. He seemed astonishingly relaxed, Trevellion thought, for a man bearing such a hideous burden. The mobile, craggy face of the politician was older than Trevellion expected. To survive, this man had to be tough: he was holding the fate of humanity in his hands at this moment.

'Well, Mr Secretary, so you've got things worked out?' the President asked, strolling towards them.

While they chatted, Admiral Floyd took Trevellion's elbow: 'Mr President, Captain Trevellion is the British First Sea Lord's special envoy.'

'Hi, Captain. I'm glad Tony Layde's sent you over. He's happy, is he, with the British part in so?'

'Yes, sir. We're aiming to start the operation as soon as Orcus is ready.'

'How soon's that, Captain?'

'Our boats will be taking up their positions on the ninth of May, sir.'

The President pursed his lips, looked up from beneath his bushy eyebrows and slowly shook his head. He remained silent.

'Our end's tricky, Mr President,' Trevellion said. 'The patrol submarine has to be modified, if she's to stand a chance of success.'

The Secretary of Defense waved his hand at the empty chair. 'We'll explain our plans, Mr President, if you're ready.'

The Secretary opened the proceedings by explaining in landsman's terms the broad outline of Operation so both East and West.

The Soviet navy was naturally exploiting its 'fortress' position, particularly in the Barents Sea. sow would show that all this was in vain: although the geographical siting of the Barents was an undeniable advantage for the Soviets, this factor was one which the submarines of the Royal Navy also intended to exploit, as Trevellion was waiting to demonstrate.

During the current truce, it was probable that the Soviets, knowing their SSBNS were being hunted, might be sailing their Deltas, Yankees and Sierras (Typhoons) into the Arctic in order to achieve a larger arc of missile fire. To reach these diversified firing positions beneath the ice, the Soviet SSBNS would have to leave the security of their home shores. The same logic applied also to their Pacific bases. Those submarines using Vladivostok or Sovetskaya Gavan could, during these wartime conditions, be contained and trailed. The Straus of Chosen and Tsushima could be easily watched, as could also the La Perouse Strait between Hokkaido and Sakhalin Island. It was obvious that the Soviet SSBNS could also fire from the Sea of Okhotsk, inside the protection of the Kuril Islands and the deeps of the Aleutian Basin. From their Pacific 'fortress' position, they could destroy the remainder of the world's cities — Vancouver, Winnipeg, San Francisco, Honolulu, Aukland, Sydney, Singapore, Bombay. Without even penetrating the Greenland-Faeroes Gaps, from the Barents they could take out the cities of the northern hemisphere as far south as Panama, as far west as Hawaii and the length of the North American Pacific seaboard.

'They've learned the lesson of sea power swiftly enough,' the President murmured. 'They'll be making use of the oceans, as our Trident boats do.'

The Secretary of Defense nodded his head. 'Mr President, we can take care of 'em now that our surveillance chains are established. COMSUBPAC needs only another two days for his submarines to be in position. CINCPAC'S ready to go.'

'Okay,' the President said. 'What about SACLANT and Nato?'

The Secretary of Defense glanced across at Trevellion, who then rose to his feet.

'The Limeys, I regret to report, sir, need a few more days. We're waiting for completion of modifications to one of our boats.'

'Nato's got an entirely different problem to ours,' the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff explained patiently. 'Theirs is a very complex operation.' Admiral Floyd went on: 'SACLANT is convinced that sow can succeed, Mr President, providing the planning and the material modifications are meticulously carried out.' He turned to Trevellion:

'When can you start?'

'Our units, backed up by the Carrier Striking Force, can be moving into position on the ninth of May, sir,' Trevellion said.

'Is that the earliest that Nato can do?' the President demanded. 'The Soviets won't hold off for long, if they suspect they're being fooled.'

'That's the earliest possible, Mr President.'

Trevellion felt acutely embarrassed during the long silence. Then the Secretary of Defense said quietly:

'Mr President, CINCPAC hasn't been involved in hot war yet, as has SACLANT. Nato's forces are only just dusting themselves off after the Atlantic battle.'

Trevellion felt irritated. He was lucky to be alive himself, having only just finished fighting through the Canadian convoy to Oslo. He had almost lost Furious, his old ASW carrier: thousands of brave men had perished in that particular battle. Credit was due, too, to the British and Nato planners who had anticipated so early and so accurately what the Nato submarines might be called upon to do — a planning exercise never envisaged during those peacetime war games. Orcus had even been recalled while the battle was still raging. Trevellion felt a smug satisfaction that the ancient submarine which had been designated to play such a vital role in sow was commanded by one of his Icarus officers. Julian Farge had been his PWO (Underwater} and one of Trevellion's best officers. They had not met again since both Farge and Trevellion had been plucked from the water by the American destroyer after the sinking. Of one thing Pascoe was sure; FOSM had made a good choice when selecting this CO for Onus' share in the imminent operation.

'Anything to add, Captain Trevellion?'

'Thank you, Mr Secretary,' Trevellion said, grateful for his support. He turned towards Admiral Floyd: 'The First Sea Lord asked me to emphasize several points, sir. Because of the constricted nature of Operation SOW, communication from the boats involved will be out of the question. Pre-operational training is essential, which means a day or two's delay to make certain that each submarine captain knows his job perfectly.' Trevellion strode to the chart of the Greenland and Barents Seas. He tapped the gaps between Spitzbergen, Franz Josef Land and Severnaya Zemlya. 'Our efforts might drive their SSBNS across the Pole to the Bering Strait. The First Sea Lord wants to be sure that you would be happy with this possible development, sir?'

'More than happy, Captain. CINCPAC would be delighted.'

'The First Sea Lord also asked me to tell you, sir,' Trevellion continued, 'that we are laying stress on the immediate reporting of success from our operational boats. The speed with which the kill reports are reported is crucial to the success of sow, even at the risk of jeopardizing the submarines' safety: kills — even if doubtful — must be signalled immediately if the strategic objective is to be realized.'

The admiral nodded. 'But we'll have to accept assumptions in the classification of our results,' he said. 'It's deep under the Pole and in the Pacific: our submarine captains may be able only to guess.' He added: 'It's not that difficult, Captain Trevellion, to simulate breaking-up noises.'