17
USS MICHIGAN
A thick layer of fog clogged the Strait of Juan de Fuca as USS Michigan plowed through dark green water, the seas spilling over its bow before rolling down the sides of the long black ship. With Canada to the north and the Olympic Peninsula of Washington State to the south, Lieutenant Keith Ressler stood on the Bridge in the submarine’s sail, assessing a fishing boat materializing from the fog ahead.
The submarine’s commanding officer, Captain Murray Wilson, stood beside Ressler, binoculars to his eyes, likewise studying the contact that had been reported by the radar operator a few minutes ago. Standing behind them atop the sail, a lookout searched the fog for other contacts. But the fishing boat crossing in front of the submarine was the pressing concern, and Ressler decided to alter Michigan’s course to pass safely behind it.
Pressing the microphone in his hand, Ressler passed his order to the Control Room below.
“Helm, left ten degrees rudder, steady course two-six-zero.”
Ressler turned aft to verify the order was properly executed, watching the top of the rudder, poking above the ocean’s surface, shift in the desired direction. Behind the ship, the submarine’s powerful propeller churned a frothy white wake as Michigan began its gentle turn to port.
Less than a week ago, Michigan had completed its maintenance refit, and resupplied with food, spare parts, and crew replacements, the former ballistic missile submarine had slipped from the Delta Pier at Naval Base Kitsap earlier this morning. After transiting the quiet waters of Hood Canal, Michigan had passed Port Ludlow and the Twin Spits before entering the Strait of Juan de Fuca.
The submarine’s rudder returned to amidships, and Ressler monitored the fishing boat until it was no longer a collision threat, then altered course back to starboard. Michigan returned to its prescribed track through the strait, headed to the western Pacific for what would likely be a more suspenseful deployment than normal. Subsequent to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, Michigan had received new orders. It would enter the Black Sea, where its armament might play a decisive role.
Although Michigan had been built as a ballistic missile submarine, it was a far different ship today than when it was launched four decades ago. With the implementation of the Strategic Offensive Reductions Treaty, the Navy had converted the four oldest Ohio-class submarines into guided missile and special warfare platforms. Twenty-two of Michigan’s twenty-four missile tubes had been outfitted with seven-pack Tomahawk launchers — 154 missiles total — with the remaining two tubes providing access to two Dry Deck Shelters attached to the missile deck, each one containing a mini-sub used to transport Navy SEALs miles underwater for clandestine operations. There were multiple scenarios where Michigan’s Tomahawk missile or two platoons of Navy SEALs might play a role in the Russia — Ukraine war.
After Michigan cleared the Strait of Juan de Fuca and entered the Pacific Ocean, a report from below echoed from the Bridge communications box.
“Bridge, Nav. Passing the one-hundred fathom curve.”
Ressler acknowledged the report, then glanced at the Bridge Display Unit, checking Michigan’s progress toward the Dive Point.
“Shift the watch below decks,” Wilson ordered. “Prepare to dive.”
Ressler acknowledged the Captain’s order as Wilson ducked down into the ship’s sail, descending the ladder into Control. Ressler squinted at the sun, peeking through a break in the fog. It’d be six long months before he saw it again, aside from the occasional view through the submarine’s periscope. Six months of fluorescent lighting and artificially controlled days and nights. Six months before Michigan’s crew returned home, greeted by their families waiting on the pier.
With his thoughts lingering on his wife and two daughters, Ressler flipped the switch on the Bridge box, shifting the microphone in his hand over to the shipwide 1-MC announcing circuit.
“Shift the watch below decks. Prepare to dive.”
18
TEHRAN, IRAN
Russian Foreign Minister Marat Trutnev peered out the side window of his black sedan as it wound through the center of Tehran, home to a population of over nine million. Joining Trutnev in the back of the car was the Russian ambassador to Iran, Danil Morozov, who would translate during this afternoon’s meeting with Trutnev’s Iranian counterpart.
The sedan glided to a halt in front of Iran’s foreign ministry building, where the Russians were greeted and escorted by Iranian diplomatic aides into Shahrbani Palace, which spread across twenty-one thousand hectares. Trutnev admired the building’s architecture, inspired by the Apadana reception hall in Persepolis, where Achaemenid kings had greeted visitors and foreign dignitaries. He was escorted past a decorative frieze of ancient Persian soldiers and into the vaulted entrance supported by immense stone columns topped with ornately carved capitals. Despite the ancient heritage imbued in its exterior, the palace was commonly referred to as simply Building 9 of the House of Commons.
Trutnev and Morozov were led through the building, which was decorated with artistic mirrors and intricate stucco designs, entering a conference room belonging to the Iranian minister of foreign affairs. Minister Koorush Shirvani and a single aide joined the two Russians for the small, private meeting Trutnev had requested. Considering the topics of today’s meeting, Trutnev found it fortunate that Iran’s ministry of foreign affairs was now responsible for negotiations concerning Iran’s nuclear weapons program, which had previously been carried out by Iran’s Supreme National Security Council. Shirvani would be keenly interested in the arrangement Trutnev would propose today.
After the standard diplomatic pleasantries, with Morozov and his Iranian counterpart translating, Shirvani shifted to business. “I understand that your government has a proposal for us. What is the topic?”
Trutnev decided to delay a direct answer, providing instead a meandering response designed to stroke Shirvani’s ego. “I must first reiterate Russia’s sincere appreciation for your country’s assistance during our recent conflict with the United States in the Arabian Sea. Providing access to Iranian territory and military bases for Russian air and missile forces created the advantage we needed while engaging the American Pacific Fleet.” Trutnev avoided discussing the battle’s outcome, which had eventually swung in America’s favor.
Shirvani nodded his appreciation for Trutnev’s words, and he also did not comment on the devastating losses Russia had incurred in the battle. All four of America’s heavily damaged aircraft carriers had completed repairs and were back in service, while the bulk of the Russian Pacific Fleet’s surface ships still rested on the bottom of the Arabian Sea.
The Iranian foreign minister replied, “Iran values and appreciates the support Russia has provided to our country in the past, and allowing Russian forces onto our land was the least we could do. Our assistance did not go unpunished, however. American and European sanctions were intensified, and we still feel those effects today. If you are here to discuss a similar arrangement as before, it is unlikely that your proposal will be well-received.”
“I am aware of the potential difficulties my proposal may face,” Trutnev replied. “But we request only a small task, and the reward will be great.”
The promise of great reward elicited a raised eyebrow. “How can we assist?” Shirvani asked.