Deep Lie (36 page)

Majorov scooped up a stone from the path and sent it skimming across the lawn.

“Swedish sub-hunting technology was extremely poor, and we had little difficulty in penetrating their waters. Their capabilities in this regard were so small, in fact, that I believed we could endure even a major upgrading of their techniques, and I was right. My plan began and will end with provocation. In the autumn of 1981, I ordered a Whiskey boat to be put aground near the base at Karlskrona. The resulting uproar was all I could have wished for. Swedish public opinion turned against the Soviet Union, their parliament launched an investigation into the incident, and their prime minister, who had been most conciliatory towards us, was greatly embarrassed. It was wonderful.”

“I don’t understand, sir,” Helder said.

“The provocation was necessary to create an antagonistic atmosphere between our two countries,” Majorov replied.

“I have continued to build on that antagonism in the meantime. It is that which will give us our rationale for defending ourselves against them.” He chuckled to himself.

“But I am getting ahead of myself. After the socalled Whiskey-on-the-rocks incident, we increased our penetrations of their waters; we sent groups of mini subs in; we put SPETSNAZ units ashore, to live in the country for weeks at a time, establishing safe houses and bases, and returning with better and better intelligence; armed with detailed plans of the Swedish defenses supplied by Seal, our man in their government, we mined shoreline gun emplacements and military harbors, and because our mines are made of new materials which are extremely difficult to detect, they have not been detected. Just as the buoy you placed near Stockholm has not been detected.”

They reached the gates and passed through, then walked into the submarine pens. Majorov stopped at the mooring of a Whiskey class submarine, its crew and officers lined up on deck.

“Since your mission, the attitude of the Swedes has bordered on hysteria, and now, in great part thanks to you and Sokolov, they are ripe for one final, unbearable provocation.”

Holder’s eyes widened.

“Exactly, Helder,” Majorov smiled.

“That is your mission.

When you put this sub aground in the Stockholm Archipelago, you will create a frenzy of naval activity in the area; you will rivet the attention of all Sweden to one tiny island in the approaches to Stockholm.” Majorov paused for effect.

“And then,” he said, “we will send a rescue party—a rescue party they will never forget.”

Majorov boarded the submarine and, ignoring the crew, climbed the conning tower and dropped down the main hatch, closely followed by Helder. They went to the chart table at the navigator’s station.

“Here,” said Majorov, pointing a finger to a tiny island, Hoggam, that Helder had passed on his previous mission.

“Here is where you will put her aground, as I told you earlier. The southwestern shore of the island is sandy, and you will drive her well up. We don’t want her to drift off later. You will be discovered in due course, although last time we had to wait for a local fisherman to ring the police, and you will quickly be surrounded by everything they can muster in the area.”

Majorov turned to face him.

“Now, listen to me carefully.

You are not, under any circumstances to allow any Swede to board this vessel, and when you begin to communicate with them, you will make that very clear. From the moment the first Swedish naval forces arrive, you are to keep the deck gun and the conning tower machine guns manned at all times. If any attempt is made to board the sub, you are to fire on the boarders, is that clear?”

“Yes, sir, it is clear,” Helder replied, “but you realize that I cannot defend a grounded submarine against attack indefinitely.”

“I realize that, but I expect you to put up a fight, for a time, anyway, before you surrender.”

“Surrender?” Helder was shocked.

“You have already said that you cannot defend the sub indefinitely, and I don’t want you all to die trying. Don’t worry, you will not be in Swedish custody for very long; when we receive the signal that they have fired on your vessel, we will move very quickly, you may be certain.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Good.” Majorov took an envelope from an inside pocket and opened it.

“Here are three code words,” he said, holding up the paper.

“WHALE, you will send when you are successfully grounded; POX, you will send when Swedish forces arrive on the scene; BEAR, you will send when you have been fired upon. It is all written in this order.”

“I understand, sir.”

“There are three other coded instructions, which you may or may not receive, but which you will not send.” He produced a small card from his pocket on which there were three, five-digit groups of numbers written.

“Look here,” Majorov said, moving to the communications room.

“This special piece of equipment has been fitted to the sub. Its only purpose is to display five digits. If you receive this five-digit group,” he pointed to the card and the group, 10101, “you are then immediately to fire on the Swedes with the deck gun, at an important target of your choice.

Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And if you receive this group,” he pointed to the card and the group, 10201, “you are to surrender your ship to the Swedes at once. If you receive this group, 10301,” you are to order the sonar operator to transmit a continuous signal on this frequency.” He produced another card.

“Do you understand?”

“Not entirely, sir. Of what use would a sonar transmission be?” Majorov led him back to the chart table and pointed.

“This is the spot where you deployed the navigation buoy on your first mission.”

“Yes, sir, that is the spot.” Helder followed Majorov’s finger in a straight line back to the island where he was to run the sub aground.

“As you can see, you will have a line-of-sight transmission of the active sonar signal to the buoy. In its present position, lying deep in the channel, it cannot be reached by radio transmission, but only by sonar, and only on this specific frequency. When it receives the sonar signal, it will release its top portion, which will rise to the surface, attached to the base by a cable. The floating top of the buoy serves as an antenna, which can receive satellite transmissions.”

“Receive transmissions, sir?” Holder’s understanding was that the buoy was to broadcast, not receive.

Majorov appeared momentarily flustered.

“Forgive me,

I meant to say send, not receive. It will send to our satellite, which will broadcast the relevant data to the incoming force. Come with me again, Helder.”

Majorov climbed to the conning tower and levered open the catches of a waterproof case bolted to the steel bulkhead.

Inside was an instrument identical to the one Helder had seen in the communications shack.

“Here, as you can see, is another receiver of the five-digit groups, so that you will know, whether you are below or in the conning tower, the moment these signals are sent.” He replaced the cover and latched it shut again.

“Now, I want you to repeat all the instructions I have just given you.”

Helder ran through the instructions. WHALE, aground;

FOX, in contact with Swedish forces; BEAR, have been fired upon. A signal of 10101 on the special receiver, an instruction to fire on Swedish forces; a signal of 10201, an instruction to surrender the sub to the Swedes; a signal of 10301, an instruction to broadcast a sonar signal to activate the navigation buoy.

“Excellent,” Majorov said, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Now, we will introduce you to your crew.” Majorov started to climb down from the conning tower, only to be met by Jones, coming up.

“Colonel,” the legend maker said, out of breath, “I’m sorry to interrupt your briefing, but Appicella is gone.”

Majorov’s brow furrowed.

“Gone? What do you mean?”

“I mean, sir, that he appears to be gone from the base.”

“That is impossible,” Majorov said, firmly.

“No man could possibly get out of here.”

“I hope that is true. Colonel, but nevertheless, he cannot be found. The girl, Olga, reported him missing this morning, and I ordered an immediate search of the base.”

“He will turn up here, somewhere, wait and see,” Majorov said.

Jones looked uncomfortable.

“Colonel, the girl says he spent the afternoon yesterday sitting on the verandah of the guest cottage, watching the repair of the American’s yacht.

He even took his dinner there. She went to bed without him around eleven; when she woke up, he was no longer there.”

Majorov appeared stunned. He looked at his watch.

“The yacht has been gone since midnight. It is in Swedish waters by now, perhaps even in Sweden. They could make Gotland by this time.”

“Yes, sir.” Jones said.

“But, in any case. Appicella knows nothing. How could he? He was kept out of sensitive areas.”

Majorov winced.

“He was not kept out of the most sensitive area of all,” he said.

“He had access to the computer.” He thought for a moment.

“If he has learned about our operation, they would not go to Denmark; it’s too far. They’d go to Sweden, and then to Stockholm and contact either the Swedish government or the American embassy.”

“Shall I start a sea search for them?”

Majorov chewed on a knuckle for a moment.

“No, we’re too close to jump-off to send boats and helicopters into Swedish waters. Chances are they don’t know anything, anyway. Appicella was probably nervous about being kept here and decided to run for it.”

“There’s something else,” Jones said.

“We’ve had a signal from Seal, in Stockholm. An American senator, Carr, is sending someone named Brooke Kirkland there.

She has an appointment at the ministry tomorrow. Seal thought the name might be a cover, so I queried Ferret. He has confirmed that this Kirkland is the woman, Rule. He also confirms that Appicella is Rule’s man.”

“That would be very unfortunate, indeed,” the colonel said.

“Does Seal have any reason to believe that Rule might expect to meet Appicella in Stockholm?”

“No, and it doesn’t seem likely. Appicella’s escape was a fluke, caused by the accidental presence of the American yacht. She can’t possibly know if he’s headed there. The impetus for Rule going to Stockholm is the senator. She obviously intends alerting the ministry.”

“Appicella may or may not have information that would confirm Rule’s guesses, but we can’t take a chance. Even without confirmation. Rule might be able to impress someone at the ministry. We have a unit in Central Stockholm. don’t we?”

“Yes, sir. Group One; their mission is parliament and the royal palace. The other two Stockholm units, groups two and three, are responsible for Stockholm Military District Headquarters at Strangnas, to the west.”

Majorov nodded.

“Signal Group One to place one member each at Stockholm Airport, the American Embassy, and the Ministry of Defense. If there is a woman on any flight incoming from the United States named either Kirkland or Rule, kill her at the first opportunity. If anyone fitting Appicella’s description shows up either at the airport or at the embassy or the ministry, he is to be killed immediately. The same for the American, Lee. We must assume that Appicella knows and has told Lee. Tell them to do it quietly, if possible, but it must be done, at whatever cost.”

“Yes, sir.”

Majorov turned to Helder.

“I’m sorry, but I must go now. There is your crew,” he said, gesturing toward the men formed on the deck.

“They are hand-picked, every one of them, and they are yours.” He stuck out his hand.

“Good luck, Helder. See you in Sweden.”

“Thank you, sir,” Helder said, taking the hand. Then Majorov and Jones were gone. Helder looked down on the crew below.

“Give me your attention,” he said. They all turned to look at him.

“My name is Helder. We have not sailed together before, but we have been well trained. I will run this cruise by the book. Take your stations and prepare to sail.” They disappeared through the deck hatches, leaving only enough men on deck to cast off.

Helder began barking orders, by the book. But as he did, he worried. This cruise would be anything but by the book. There was something he didn’t understand, something that kept eating at him, but he had not had time to come to grips with it. He’d do that when they were safely under way. It was something to do with the last mission, something he couldn’t remember. But there’d be time.

He’d figure it out.

Then, something else occurred to Helder. He, himself, had been present when the First Secretary of the Communist Party had instructed Majorov to cancel the invasion if the element of surprise were in any way compromised.

Yet, in all the instructions Majorov had just given Helder, there was no code for an order canceling the invasion. RULE worked most of the day organizing the Soviet Office to function smoothly in her absence. At four. she held a meeting of her key subordinates to make specific assignments. Just after five. as the meeting broke up. Alan Nixon’s secretary appeared in the doorway.