“We’ve never had a nuclear power plant failure in a submarine that I know of. We’ve got our hands full in Vietnam right now and what I’m damned afraid of, old friend, is that the Russians have decided to take advantage of our problems in Vietnam and restart the Cold War. Only this time the theatre isn’t Europe, it’s our area, the deep sea.”
CHAPTER 3
His long membership in the Politburo entitled Leonid Plotovsky to sit at the head of the table in the third-floor conference room in the KGB headquarters. The radiators hissed and rattled as the building engineers, alerted by Stefan Lubutkin that a senior member of the Politburo was in the building, sought to keep the third floor warm enough to prevent a complaint from the old Communist street fighter.
To Plotovsky’s right sat two admirals of the Soviet Navy, their uniform jackets bedecked with metals. To his left, one chair removed from the end of the table, sat Submarine Commander Nikita Kovitz, his square face solemn, his deep-set eyes wary. His face showed the strain he had been under during the flight from Tripoli to Moscow. He had spent the long hours of the flight worrying about the meeting that was now about to begin.
To Kovitz’s left sat Stefan Lubutkin, a pad of paper and a gold Cross pen on the table in front of him. Lubutkin kept his eyes lowered, looking at the pen, a gift from Igor Shevenko. Farther down the table Sophia Blovin, her prominent breasts encased in a tight sweater, sat next to Shevenko.
Plotovsky cleared his throat and looked around. He saw the white enameled cuspidor that Shevenko had ordered Lubutkin to place beside his chair. He hawked noisily and spat into the cuspidor.
“Begin,” he ordered.
“As you know, honored Comrade,” Admiral Aleksandr Zurahv said, “we have been greatly concerned with the American capability to strike at almost every one of our cities with nuclear missiles fired from their submarines. We are vulnerable to that threat from every quadrant of the compass except the north.
“We have devoted great energy to find a means to neutralize that threat. We have had some success. The development of our own nuclear ballistic missile submarines gives us a means to strike at American cities from the sea. Another success has been the building of a new class of nuclear attack submarines which are very fast and can go much deeper than previous submarines of that type.
“We realized that to make these new attack submarines a real threat to the American missile submarines we needed a new weapon, a torpedo, that would have great range and yet could be fired at a target close to our own submarines.” He paused and filled his great chest with air and let it out slowly.
“I must at this point, Comrade Plotovsky, give you a little background that you might not have. The Americans have armed many of their torpedoes with nuclear warheads. We can do the same thing. When one does that the torpedo must be exploded at least six to eight miles away from the submarine that fired it or the submarine will be destroyed in the nuclear explosion. At such great distances one sacrifices accuracy.
“We wanted a new type of torpedo that would seek out the enemy through the sounds the enemy ship makes. It should be armed with a non-nuclear warhead. Using a non-nuclear warhead means the torpedo can be fired at a target that is fairly close to the firing submarine, thus increasing accuracy to a high degree. We have developed such a torpedo with an entirely new type of sonar reading device that will not confuse the noise our submarine makes with the noise of the enemy submarine.” He paused as he saw Plotovsky’s forehead wrinkle.
“Existing models of sound-seeking torpedoes have a weakness, Comrade. Often the torpedo, after being fired, would hear the noise its own submarine was making and would circle around and attack the ship that fired it. With our new torpedo we can program it ahead of time with the sound patterns of the ship that will be firing it and it will ignore those programmed noises and seek out the noise of an enemy ship, for example, an enemy submarine.”
“Speak precisely,” Plotovsky said. He hawked and spat noisily into the cuspidor. Sophia Blovin shuddered slightly and Shevenko smiled to himself.
“Politically speaking,” Plotovsky wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Politically speaking we are not at war with anyone so we have no enemies, as that word is commonly used.”
“A matter of habit, Comrade,” the Admiral said. “Like all true Party members I consider all nations, all peoples who oppose us in any way as an enemy.”
“Go on,” Plotovsky said.
“The development of this new weapon gave us a countermeasure against the American nuclear threat but it was a countermeasure on paper only. Unless we found a way to test it under actual combat conditions.” The Admiral’s small eyes, almost buried in heavy pouches of flesh, squeezed shut and then opened.
Plotovsky raised a thin hand, the age spots on the back of his hand standing out clearly in the harsh fluorescent lighting. “This is information that was not brought out at the Politburo meeting where the testing program was discussed. I will take up that omission with you later.” He turned toward Captain Nikita Kovitz.
“I presume that the weapon has been tested and you are the one who did the testing?”
“I was given orders, Comrade.” The words came slowly from Captain Kovitz. “I have the habit of loyalty, sir. I am loyal to my Party, to my nation, to my superior officers. I carried out my orders, Comrade Plotovsky.”
“Which were? Please speak precisely, Captain.”
“I was told that on a certain day and at a certain time a submarine would clear the Strait of Gibraltar on a certain course. I was ordered to track, to follow, sir, that submarine for several hours. If I were detected during the tracking period I was to break off the operation and retire at high speed. If I was not detected I was to close to a specified firing range and test fire the new weapon.
“I closed to the prescribed firing range,” Kovitz said stolidly. “I test fired the new torpedo.”
Plotovsky had closed his eyes. His thin hands rested on the table top.
“The weapon was fired,” Captain Kovitz continued, his voice low. “Our sonar operators reported that the weapon ran toward the target at what is called the search mode speed. It was heard to increase speed when it detected the noise from the target’s propeller. The weapon exploded precisely when it should have, given its speed and distance to be traveled. The target’s propeller noises stopped after the explosion. Our sonar operators echo-ranged on the target, that is, sir, they sent out sound beams against the target. The target was tracked down to a depth of two thousand fathoms. It is my considered opinion, sir, that the target was destroyed. No submarine can survive at a depth of two thousand fathoms, sir.”
“Your target was an American ballistic missile submarine?”
“I do not know that, Comrade. I never saw the target.”
“Then it is possible that you fired this new weapon at a Soviet submarine, is it not?” Plotovsky’s fierce eyes opened with a snap, staring at Captain Kovitz. Kovitz reached into the sleeve of his uniform jacket and pulled out a clean white handkerchief. He mopped his face and looked across the table at Admiral Zurahv. The Admiral smiled.
“Comrade Plotovsky,” Admiral Zurahv said in his heavy voice, “one must break eggs to make an omelet, as the saying goes. You broke many eggs for the good of the Party, the nation. A good omelet is worth the price of a few broken eggs. We have developed and tested a weapon that could save our nation from a nuclear holocaust.”
“I see,” Plotovsky said in a mild voice. “But if you will, Admiral, consider this possibility.