“This will take some time,” Andrei said. “The solution entering your body contains two drugs. One will reduce your inhibitions, making you more likely to talk in the morning, while the second drug is preparing the receptor sites for the chemicals you will receive if the morning’s interrogation fails. You’ll have until then to change your mind. Once the next chemicals are injected into your bloodstream, there is no turning back.”
Andrei pulled a syringe with attached needle, plus a small vial from a cabinet, placing them on a tray which he set on a table beside her. He exchanged a few words with the GRU colonel, then the men left, turning off the lights and closing the door.
Christine tested her restraints, trying to break free. When that failed, she tried to slide her hands through the straps, but her wrists were securely fastened. After trying both options again several times, she gave up. There was nothing more she could do except wait until morning. She stared at the ceiling as the drug dripped into her bloodstream.
82
USS MICHIGAN
The tension in the air was palpable.
Throughout the day, as the twenty-eight SEALs prepared for combat, Captain Wilson sensed an eerie quiet seep throughout his submarine. The SEALs had entered the two missile tubes that had been converted to ammunition magazines, each containing thirty tons of munitions, extracting the desired weapons and ordnance for tonight’s operation. All twenty-eight SEALs were now in the Battle Management Center behind the Control Room, with Commander McNeil having just completed the mission briefing. Wilson lingered in the BMC as the SEALs huddled around the dual-display workstations in groups of four, reviewing the plan in more detail.
SVR Director Hippchenko had provided schematics of the Ministry of Defense building, and Zaslon operatives would provide the SEALs with security cards that would allow access through the building’s security features. If everything went as planned, the SEALs and President Kalinin would gain access to the control center fourteen minutes after entering the building. Entry was the biggest challenge, as all entrance points were monitored with cameras and would be secured at the projected 3 a.m. ingress time. During the mission brief, Wilson listened with fascination to the plan McNeil briefed, outlining their route on a map provided by Russia’s SVR.
While the SEALs penetrated the National Defense Control Center, a two-block perimeter would be established by SVR Zaslon forces and three FSB Spetsnaz brigades. Director Hippchenko had concluded the FSB could be trusted and the FSB director had committed the three Spetsnaz units under his purview to the effort.
Hippchenko had considered including Russia’s Federal Protective Service, the counterpart to America’s Secret Service, but decided otherwise. Although the organization as a whole would be loyal to Kalinin, it lacked a large, central unit that could be maneuvered into place around the Ministry of Defense perimeter. Too many individuals would have to be brought into the plan, increasing the risk it might be discovered by those loyal to General Andropov. For similar reasons, incorporating the Interior Ministry forces was rejected. Russian National Guard units were also considered for the perimeter, but Hippchenko was unsure where Director Karakayev’s loyalty resided.
Finally, a combined SEAL and Zaslon assault team had been discussed but discarded due to language barriers — only Harrison and two other SEALs spoke Russian, plus the communication gear wasn’t interoperable. If the schematics were accurate and security cards worked as promised, twenty-eight SEALs would be more than enough.
The four-man fire teams completed their review of the building schematics, along with primary and backup contingency plans, then filtered from the BMC to suit up for deployment. For tonight’s mission, the SEALs would exit via mass lockout from the two Dry Deck Shelters. There was insufficient room to fit all twenty-eight SEALs in the two shelters at once, since the shelters still held the SDV mini-sub and one RHIB, so two lockouts would be required.
When McNeil finished the review with his fire team, he approached Wilson, and the two men were joined by Harrison. Wilson had requested their presence after the mission preparations had been completed.
“Captain,” McNeil said, “what did you want to discuss?”
“I received a Personal For message today, which contained good news and bad news.” Wilson’s eyes shifted to Harrison. “The good news is that Christine is alive.”
“What?” Harrison asked. “Where is she? How is she?”
“She’s fine as far as we know; she was walking on her own. Unfortunately, that’s where the bad news starts. She turned up in a town called Beregovoy yesterday and requested assistance. A CIA team was sent to pick her up, but the Russian Army got to her first. She’s been transported to Moscow, most likely for interrogation. However, it seems her fate and ours remain intertwined. She was taken to the main Ministry of Defense building.”
Harrison asked, “Do we know where she’s being kept?”
“Zaslon operatives will provide that information to you tonight if they’ve obtained it.”
The two SEALs exchanged glances. McNeil spoke first. “There will be no deviation from the mission plan. Once we’ve gained access to the control center and Kalinin has regained control over the Russian military, we can search for Christine. Until then, she doesn’t factor in. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Harrison replied. “No argument.”
Although Harrison had provided the proper response, Wilson was certain the wheels were churning inside his head.
McNeil and Harrison left the Battle Management Center to gather their gear and suit up. Michigan was already in shallow water, approaching the launch point. Wilson checked the time. They’d arrive on station in less than an hour. As the last SEAL fire team left the BMC to prepare for the mass lockouts, Wilson entered Control and settled into his chair on the Conn.
“Dive, prepare to hover.”
Moments earlier, Michigan’s main engines had gone silent and the submarine was now coasting to a halt at periscope depth. Michigan was in water only 130 feet deep, allowing the eighteen-thousand-ton submarine to approach within two miles of shore. Close enough, Commander McNeil had said. The SEALs would swim underwater to the coast from there.
“Ready to hover,” the Diving Officer reported.
“Hover at eight-zero feet,” the Officer of the Deck ordered as he circled on the port periscope.
The Diving Officer ordered the Chief of the Watch to engage hovering, and Wilson waited as the system took control, keeping the submarine on ordered depth.
The first fourteen SEALs had climbed into the two Dry Deck Shelters and were awaiting permission to flood down the hangars. The evolution was directed from Control, as Michigan would become heavier as water flooded into the shelters, with neutral buoyancy maintained by pumping water from the variable ballast tanks. The hovering system would handle things automatically, but on occasion the system lost control and manual intervention by the Chief of the Watch was required.
“Hovering is engaged,” the Diving Officer reported. “Steady at eight-zero feet.”
The Officer of the Deck, still circling on the periscope with his face pressed against the eyepiece, addressed Captain Wilson. “Sir, hold no sonar or visual contacts. Request permission to flood down the port and starboard shelters.”
“Flood down both shelters,” Wilson ordered.
Inside each shelter, a Navy diver flooded down his respective hangar. The hovering system kicked in, and Wilson watched the Ballast Control Panel as valves on both variable ballast tanks shifted from shut to open as water was pumped out at a rate matching the water flooding into the shelters. The shelters were soon flooded down and Control received the expected communication.