Fatal Thunder: A Jerry Mitchell Novel (13 page)

Vaslev sighed, not in surrender, but in the realization that Russia was indeed in grave, perhaps mortal danger. He truly did not know anything about the barge the Americans described. That was no surprise in a country that still told one only what was needed to do one’s work, and sometimes not even that. And who knew what secrets had been fed into the communist regime’s shredders before they lost power?

Others would make sure the Americans’ information was authentic, but for the moment, he would assume they were telling the truth. He couldn’t imagine this was some sort of deception.

“All right,” Vaslev announced, “I will pass all this information on to my superiors with the strongest possible endorsement. What they will do with it, or what actions they will take, I cannot say.”

“We would hope that in the spirit of cooperation, and given our openness in supplying such detailed information to your government, we can continue to work together to quickly resolve this, before there is another catastrophe.” Lloyd’s words were couched in diplomatic terminology, but his request was sincere.

“I can make no guarantees about that, either. Those decisions will be made by others.”

“You should also tell your government, that given the great urgency and the great danger of this situation, if their investigations are not successful, we will quickly broaden our investigation to include other governments, and possibly even the public. Everyone in the world is in danger until these weapons are found and the persons involved are stopped. One could argue that the world needs to be told.”

It was a credible threat. The Americans had already revealed what they knew to their adversary. Telling their friends or the public would cost them little. Vaslev wondered which revelation would cause Russia greater problems: that the Soviet regime apparently violated a nuclear treaty, that the Russian government had covered it up, or that it had now lost control of at least one of the weapons.

And who had them now? He shivered at the thought of the Chechens or some Muslim group, and there were many inside Russia, possessing such a weapon. And there were nationalists in Georgia and some of the “Stans” who would love to strike at their Russian neighbor.

“There is one more piece of information for you, a possible lead for your investigators.”

“Lead?” Vaslev asked, puzzled by the word.

“Clue,” Lloyd explained. “A name: Evgeni Orlav. A Russian national. This individual is working in India as part of the refit of the Indian submarine
Chakra
.”

“And the nature of his involvement?” Vaslev asked.

Lloyd sighed. “We don’t know. But information from a source in the shipyard says his actions have been suspicious since the Kashmir explosion.”

The ambassador looked over at Zykov, who was taking notes. The official looked up and asked, “May we interview this source?”

“No,” said Lloyd firmly. “Not now. Possibly later.”

So the Americans still wanted to keep some things secret. Still, intelligence shouldn’t have any trouble locating this man and putting him under surveillance.

Captain Mishin spoke up. “I have a question. With the ambassador’s permission, it is a matter related to the barge.”

Vaslev nodded.

“Could you please put the map back up on the screen?”

Davis typed for a moment, and the waters of northern Russia reappeared.

Mishin studied it for a moment before nodding slightly, as if satisfied. His expression became very solemn. “In the spring of 2005, I was a junior officer assigned to staff duty in Murmansk, at the Northern Fleet headquarters. There was an incident in that same area, a pursuit of what was reported as a foreign submarine in our waters. I remember coming on duty to find our fleet actively pursuing a submarine contact as it tried to escape. It was general mobilization,” he recalled. “We were on a war footing.”

He’d been speaking to the entire group, but now he turned to face Hardy directly, confronting him. “Was that submarine USS
Memphis
?”

Hardy replied, “We arrived at our patrol area on May twenty-third, and discovered the barge on June eleventh.”

Mishin’s face hardened. “The dates agree. One of the units pursuing the foreign submarine—
Memphis
,” he corrected himself, “was the submarine
Gepard
. After she reported detecting a distant hydroacoustic contact, on June fourteenth, she was never heard from again.”

The naval officer stood and walked to the screen. He picked up a pointer and tapped the chart. “The next day, we discovered debris here, and her wreckage, containing the seventy-three men who served on her, was located later that month.

“Her loss was a tremendous blow to the fleet, as well as to the wives and mothers whose men never returned. It’s long been suspected that she was sunk in battle. Is that what happened?”

Vaslev was surprised by Mishin’s intensity, but it was understandable.
Gepard
had been the newest submarine in the fleet in 2005, and her loss, following that of
Kursk
, had dealt a huge blow to the Russian submarine arm’s morale.

Hardy said, “I can provide a more detailed account later, if you wish and my government allows it.” Hardy walked over and stood near Mishin, facing the naval officer. “Late on the fourteenth, we’d crossed the sixty-eighth parallel heading north.
Memphis
had been damaged by depth charges dropped on us during the pursuit, so we were not as quiet as we might have been.
Gepard
was waiting, in front of us, and fired two torpedoes only moments after we detected her presence. I maneuvered and dropped countermeasures, and managed to avoid those weapons. We both continued to maneuver, quite violently, and more countermeasures were dropped, by both submarines. She fired again, another pair of torpedoes, but I was able to evade them with the use of a mobile decoy.

“She went active and launched a third salvo of two torpedoes. Because of our maneuvers and the number of countermeasures in the water, I believe the guidance wires on her torpedoes may have been broken. The third pair of weapons was also decoyed away from me, but
Gepard
’s radical maneuvering put her in the path of the torpedoes. My sonarmen heard their seekers shift to a range-gating scale, followed by an explosion and breaking-up noises.”

Vaslev asked Mishin in Russian, “What does ‘range-gating scale’ mean?”

The Russian submariner explained, “He means that the torpedoes—our weapons—detected
Gepard
and began pinging more rapidly. All acoustic homing torpedoes do that when they attack. It gives them more precise bearing and range information.”

“So she was sunk by her own torpedoes? Is such a thing possible?”

Still answering in Russian, Mishin said, “Normally, no. There are circuits in torpedoes specifically designed to prevent that from happening. But in a close-range, maneuvering situation, with the guidance wires cut…” He shrugged.

Vaslev couldn’t believe that a Russian submarine had been lost to its own weapons. Switching to English, he asked Hardy, “Did you fire at
Gepard
?”

Hardy quickly replied with a shake of his head, “Absolutely not, Mr. Ambassador. One of my decoys was launched in that direction, but I didn’t launch a torpedo.”

“Even after you were fired on.”

“Truth be told, because of the damage my boat had received, I was incapable of firing back, even if I wanted to. Besides, we were in international waters, Mr. Ambassador. I could understand why the Russian units fired on us when we were close to your coast. The American term would be ‘hot pursuit.’ But
Gepard
’s attack, that far away, shocked us, and it is only our good fortune that we weren’t sunk.”

“And
Gepard
’s misfortune.” Vaslev replied acidly.

Mishin leaned over and spoke in Russian a little more softly than last time. “When they investigated the wreck of
Gepard
, they found pieces of Russian USET-80 torpedoes outside the hull, on the seafloor. The inner hull near the first compartment, where the torpedoes were stored, was flooded, but largely intact.”

“Couldn’t those torpedoes be the ones found outside of
Gepard
?”

“No, sir. Those would be intact. In this case, the weapons were in pieces. The largest were of the propulsion section, and is consistent with a warhead that had detonated. As much as I want to blame the Americans for her loss, they may not be at fault.”

Mishin shifted to English and said, “For all this time, the families of those seventy-three men have grieved, ignorant of the reasons behind her loss. It’s hard to accept that it was simply ‘bad luck.’”

“Although I’ve omitted many details, my summary is complete.
Memphis
made no attempt to sink your submarine, only to escape. My crew and I have always regretted being involved in any way, even unwillingly, in
Gepard
’s loss. They were our adversaries, but also submariners, and we understood the risks they took.”

Lloyd spoke up. “
Gepard
’s captain fired not just one, or two, but three salvoes of torpedoes at
Memphis
in rapid succession. Did he act on his own? Does a Russian submarine commander have that kind of authority?” He was looking straight at Vaslev, but Mishin answered the question.

“After the incident, Admiral Yuri Kirichenko, the Northern Fleet commander, was court-martialed for ordering the pursuit, and was judged responsible for
Gepard
’s loss.”

The ambassador felt a flash of irritation with his naval attaché, but understood his desire to protect the reputation of a fellow submarine officer. And it wasn’t classified information. The findings of the court had been given a lot of coverage in the press. “Captain First Rank Mishin is correct,” he said.

“Based on the actions of your navy, we had to assume that the warheads had been deliberately hidden by the Russian government, and decided not to make the matter public, or bring it to the attention of Russian officials, without finding out more information. To date, our investigations have been completely unsuccessful, because every clue we have led straight into Russia.”

Vaslev reasoned, “So if there had never been an explosion in Kashmir, you never would have told us.”

“Never is a long time, Mr. Ambassador, but no, we would not be having this meeting now.”

The ambassador sighed. “This will be a long report to Moscow. Courtesy requires me to thank you for sharing this information with us, but only time will tell if I should be grateful.”

Lloyd said, “I’d like to arrange a time for a follow-up meeting, so that we can learn what you have found out. That will likely assist our investigations.”

Vaslev sounded uncertain. “Perhaps in a week or so…”

“There could be another explosion at any time, Mr. Ambassador. I was thinking more like forty-eight hours.”

“Please, Mr. Secretary. I am sure that after they read my report, I will be recalled for consultations. Once I get them to understand that this is not a joke, it will trigger vigorous debate, and then investigations. Certainly my government will make no major decision until they have a better understanding of the situation.”

Lloyd pressed his point. “We cannot know what is happening right now. I must insist that any information you discover be shared with my government immediately. We are willing to keep this matter private for the time being, but only as long as it assists your investigation.”

*   *   *

The meeting ended, and the ambassador shook hands with Lloyd; then Ron Davis handed Vaslev a bundle of documents. A little to one side, Hardy shook hands with Mishin, and they exchanged a few words. Lloyd was curious, but wouldn’t ask. If there was anything Hardy needed to share, the senator would tell them.

Vice President Randall left immediately after that, thanking the other three for their good work.

Before Hardy left, Lloyd asked him, “Ready for that ambassadorship yet?”

The submariner quickly shook his head. “Irate voters are enough for me. But why did you invite Zykov? Mishin made sense, considering the topic. But why the SVR station chief?”

“Because Vaslev and the political leadership may know nothing about the barge,” Lloyd answered. “The three of them represented the major power blocks in Russia: political, military, and intelligence.” Lloyd shrugged. “All three now know what we know. One of those groups has to know something. And in the meantime, we can work with what we have: the name ‘Evgeni Orlav.’”

6

RUDE AWAKENINGS

25 March 2017

0845 Local Time

Icebreaker
50 Years of Victory

Murmansk, Russia

The captain paced impatiently on the starboard bridge wing, waiting for the “important officials” the Rosatom main office said were coming. The morning air was crisp, with a light fog on the water, but the sun looked like it would burn through the morning haze in no time.
Not a bad day to go to sea,
he thought. He just wanted to know why he had to drop everything and prepare his icebreaker for immediate departure. The engineers were working frantically to bring the ship’s two reactors critical, and the main office had already arranged for the provisions
Victory
would need. Whatever it was, it must be damn important to get Rosatom moving that fast.

His sharp eyes caught the black car as it raced down the pier access road. The car braked hard, coming to an abrupt stop by the ship. His first mate, Timur Markov, opened the door, and two Russian naval officers emerged. Without waiting for Markov, they walked quickly toward the gangplank. “Hmmm,” the captain said softly. “A vice admiral and a senior captain, and in such a rush, this could be most interesting.”

Victory
’s master went back into the bridge and prepared to receive his guests. On the chart table were a carafe of hot tea, cups, and a small platter with some biscuits—good, everything was in order. Straightening his sweater, he waited by the ship’s wheel. It was only a couple of minutes later when the door popped open; Markov directed the two naval officers onto the bridge and introduced them to his master.