Category Five (37 page)

Donovan nodded as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

“I'm glad we could be of service,” Zirnov remarked, casually. “Now. Let's get you some dry clothes. We have a cabin you can use while you're with us.”

“Captain, thank you for everything.” Lauren hesitated; her brain was in overdrive. “Is there anyway we could observe the effects the bomb is having on the hurricane?”

Zirnov rubbed his chin as he pondered the request. He looked at Lauren, then Donovan. “It is possible. But I am afraid I cannot allow you to observe the process; it is highly classified.
But I could perhaps allow you to study pictures from our satellite…would that suffice?”

“That would be very gracious of you,” Lauren said, warmly. “There's some legitimate concern that the experiment might not work. I'd be grateful for any information you could pass on.”

“I will see what I can do. Now. Allow us to show you some of our Russian hospitality.” Zirnov turned to one of the other officers and spoke briefly in Russian.

The officer nodded and casually saluted.

“My man will show you to your quarters. I believe there should be some dry clothes waiting for you there.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Donovan put his hand in Lauren's and followed the sailor down the narrow passageway. They traversed through two different compartments, the Russian sailors openly eyeing Lauren.

They stopped, and their escort pushed open a door. He gestured for them to enter. Donovan ducked through the opening, and with Lauren behind him, walked into the tiny cabin. It was stark yet functional—a single bunk folded out from the wall. There was a small desk with a reading light. A narrow locker reached from floor to ceiling. A pile of dry clothes and towels had already been set on the bed. Their escort saluted, then backed out of the room. They both heard the distinctive sound of a lock being thrown into place.

“I guess we know how far their hospitality extends.” Donovan tested the door. It wouldn't budge. He turned and his eyes met Lauren's—the swell of her breasts accentuated by her rhythmic breathing. He moved closer and they embraced, kissing slowly at first.

“I can't stand not knowing,” Lauren said, bringing her hands up to her face. “I have to know if it worked. I was just guessing about the targeting information. Oh, Donovan, what happens if it doesn't work? What about Abigail?”

“She's safe,” Donovan held her in his arms, this time to comfort her. “William will see to it.”

A gentle knock sounded at the door. They heard Zirnov call out for them. Donovan went to the door and found it had been unlocked.

“Captain,” Zirnov greeted him. “I think Dr. McKenna might be interested in these.”

“Thank you.” Donovan smiled and took the folder from Zirnov's hand.

“One last thing,” Zirnov added. “We'll be underway soon and we won't surface for quite some time. So you're free to get some rest. I have a man stationed outside your door. Let him know if you need anything.”

“We will,” Donovan said and held the folder up. “Thank you again.”

Donovan closed the door and waited for the click of the lock. Lauren came up from behind him and anxiously snatched the folder from his hands.

“I can't believe they got these so fast.” Lauren sat down at the desk. She motioned for Donovan to come stand next to her.

“How'd they get them at all?” Donovan moved behind her, his fingers finding her shoulders.

“It's easy.” Lauren explained as she opened the folder. “They float an antenna to the surface. From there, they can easily access their satellite system.”

Donovan leaned closer as Lauren held up the first picture.

“Oh my God!” Lauren studied the first of the black and white satellite images. “Look at this. The resolution is amazing. They've blacked out some of the data. I'm guessing these are position and telemetry notations.”

“Turn to the next one,” Donovan urged.

“This is incredible!” Lauren nearly shouted out. “Look, you can see the eye right before the explosion. This small dot is the
B-1; it's east of the eye so the bomb has already been released. In the next shot you can see the detonation. The pressure dome has risen above the eye wall, and the shock wave is stretched out in a concentric ring through the storm.”

Donovan followed along as she explained each of the series of satellite photos. He could clearly see the vacuum left behind as the tremendous mushroom cloud roared into the stratosphere. That they were beneath the epicenter of the blast, and survived, seemed somehow impossible.

“Look at this one!” Lauren's excitement was building. “The eye wall is gone, as well as all of the significant weather surrounding it. I can't tell exactly how far from the eye the blast reached, but the bulk of the storm is gone—vaporized.”

Donovan took the last photo from her. A round chimney of water and other remnants from the explosion reached up from the surface and hung high in the atmosphere. The area around the blast was scrubbed clean of any clouds whatsoever. Helena had been gutted. All that remained of the most powerful hurricane in history was now only a few hundred miles of scattered showers.

“It worked!” Lauren shook her head in quiet amazement. “It really did work!”

“I'm so proud of you.” Donovan leaned down and kissed her neck. “You're amazing.”

“How long did the captain say we had?”

“Quite some time, was all he said.” Donovan casually wondered how many American citizens had made love aboard a Russian submarine.

“Any idea where we're headed?”

“I didn't even ask.”

D
onovan ducked through the hatch and stepped out into the bright sunlight. Lauren held his hand and followed him out into the fresh sea air. The deck of the submarine was steady in the slight ocean swell. Off the port bow sat the U.S. Coast Guard cutter,
Gallatin
. The rakish white vessel bore the Coast Guard's familiar red stripe on its forward hull. The American flag fluttered high above the pristine superstructure. Nearing the submarine was a small boat from the cutter.

He and Lauren both wore freshly laundered clothes, courtesy of the Russian crew. Donovan didn't know if he'd ever inhaled sweeter air. Somewhere in the distance, an Eco-Watch ship was steaming to recover Graff and the
Atlantic Star
. The feisty submarine builder had earned his three million dollars.

“It's been a pleasure to have you on board, Captain Nash.” Zirnov extended his hand. “And you too, Dr. McKenna.”

“Thank you so much.” Lauren moved in and gave Zirnov a kiss on the cheek. “You saved our lives and for that we'll be forever grateful.”

“I only returned a favor.” Zirnov smiled. “Good luck and a long life to both of you.”

Donovan reflected on the twenty-four hours that they'd been submerged. In that time, he and Lauren had come to enjoy Zirnov a great deal. The Russian was an intelligent and compassionate man. He hoped they'd meet again one day.

“Permission to come alongside!” a Coast Guard seaman called from the boat.

“Granted,” Zirnov replied as he watched his men catch the bow line and secure the boat against the black hull of his submarine. Donovan steadied Lauren as she stepped down into the waiting arms of the Coast Guard crew. He followed once she was aboard.

“Welcome aboard Mr. Nash, Dr. McKenna.” The lead sailor smiled as a Russian seaman tossed him the mooring line. “I've got to say, this is a first for me.”

“A few firsts for us too.” Donovan glanced at Lauren to see if she would get his double meaning.

“The helicopter went to pick up the remainder of your crew. They should be back soon.”

Donovan turned and waved at Zirnov. His men were clearing the decks as they prepared the submarine to dive back into the depths of the ocean.

“He couldn't have been any nicer.” Lauren waved also.

“I'm going to miss this life,” Donovan said, wistfully. At some point over the last twenty-four hours, laying spent in the small bunk, he'd finally explained to Lauren about his past. He told her about the exposé that Erin was going to write. They'd talked briefly about where they might go…where he, Lauren, and Abigail could be safe.

“I know you will.” Lauren wrapped her arms around him. “It'll be all right…somehow.”

Donovan watched as they maneuvered up close to the Coast Guard cutter. The crew expertly pulled the small boat under two davits. The boat was secured and they were quickly hoisted up
out of the water. Moments later, he and Lauren had their feet firmly on the deck of the ship.

“I'm Captain Gregory Scott. Welcome aboard the
Gallatin
. Do you require any medical assistance? Can I get you anything?”

Donovan shook the captain's hand and started to introduce himself and Lauren.

“No introductions necessary,” Captain Scott replied. “Your reputations have preceded you. It's an honor to have you both aboard.”

“There they go.” Lauren pointed at the Russian submarine as it silently slipped beneath the water.

“They came out of nowhere and they left the same way.” Donovan marveled as within seconds all trace of Zirnov and the
Voronesh
had disappeared.

“I have strict orders to connect you with DIA headquarters as soon as you set foot on the ship.” Captain Scott gestured for them to come with him. “This way, please.”

Donovan and Lauren followed Captain Scott as he led them into the radio room. A seaman on duty connected them via satellite link to Washington. Within moments, Calvin Reynolds was on the line.

“Lauren. I'm so relieved you're safe. Are you okay?”

“Yes sir,” Lauren replied. “Donovan and I are both fine.”

“I think you'll be happy to hear we recovered your computer in Bermuda.” Calvin continued. “We have a suspect in custody and we feel confident we'll make more arrests in the coming days.”

“Who was it?” Lauren felt relieved that the people responsible had been caught.

“The individuals will probably turn out to be just the tip of the iceberg,” Calvin replied, “but we feel the trail will lead us back to our usual enemies in the Middle East.”

“You do know that Carl is dead?”

“Yes, I was able to get a brief report from Brent aboard the
Atlantic Star
.”

“What about Abigail? Did you find her?”

“She and your mother aren't in Newark. We're still looking.”

Lauren looked up at Donovan. “I told her to get out of Newark, so who knows where they might be?”

“We'll find them,” Donovan reassured her.

“I can't thank you enough, Mr. Nash,” Calvin said. “What you accomplished was nothing short of a miracle. We at DIA will forever be in your debt.”

“Sir.” A crewman stuck his head in the door. “The helicopter is in range.”

“Thank you,” Captain Scott replied.

“Calvin, we have to go,” Lauren said. “The others are about to arrive.”

“Very well.”

Lauren said goodbye, then the three of them came up on deck to greet the incoming chopper.

In the distance, Donovan heard the unmistakable sound of a helicopter as it neared the ship. He scanned the horizon until he found the dark speck in the sky.

“Come with me. We'll meet them on the fantail when they land. We'll have to refuel the chopper before you can take off for Washington. But it doesn't take long.”

The sound of the Coast Guard helicopter grew quickly as the sleek red and white HH-65 Dolphin swung around to set up for a landing.

“This way.” Captain Scott raised his voice against the noise of the beating rotor. He led the two civilians aft to the helicopter deck.

“They don't know we survived, do they?” Donovan positioned himself and Lauren behind several armed men as the Dolphin hovered in close to the deck.

“They've been told nothing.” Scott pulled his hat low as the rush of air from the helicopter swirled around them.

Donovan waited patiently as the Dolphin settled. Two seamen rushed out and lashed the landing gear to the deck. The whine from its two turbine engines began to wind down as the first person leaped from the helicopter. Dressed in a bright orange jumpsuit, Donovan knew it was a crewman from the Dolphin. The next out the door was Brent, followed by Michael.

Donovan and Lauren slid out from behind Captain Scott and walked toward the helicopter.

“Donovan?” Michael looked at his friend, then at Lauren. He stepped closer, as if he needed to get a better look at people he thought were dead.

“Michael.” Lauren wrapped her arms around the shocked pilot.

“I thought you were—” Michael whispered. He was on the verge of tears. “I tried to make them wait but they wouldn't.”

“We know.” Lauren pulled away. “Your radio calls saved us.”

“What?” Michael shook his head, his eyes narrowed as he tried to understand.

“A Russian submarine surfaced and rescued us,” Donovan explained as he affectionately gripped the back of Michael's neck. “They heard your calls and knew we were in the water.”

“Let me get this straight. You make me get on that dinky little sub with no bathroom, and you two get on a full-sized nuclear submarine? Don't tell me you had a shower and a hot meal too.”

“Something like that.” Donovan smiled.

Brent finally found his voice. “I can't believe you're here. I'm so sorry I didn't protect you from Carl. I had no idea he'd erupt like that in the raft. I think when he realized he'd never make it into the submarine he completely panicked. Graff was going to dive. I did what I had to do…or he would have killed us all.”

“We saw it all,” Lauren replied. “You did the right thing.”

“Randy.” Donovan leaned into the helicopter and put his hand on the injured pilot's arm. “How are you?”