Ice Station Nautilus (31 page)

Thankfully, the Spetsnaz aboard the fast attack submarine were unaware of what had transpired atop the ice. Based on the equipment they had sent up, currently stacked in the two-story deck transfer lock, all of the submarine’s tactical systems were off-line, including their WQC. However, they had heard the two underwater explosions through the hull and the attendant in the PRM had inquired. The co-pilot in the control van reported they had no idea what it was and the conversation ended there.

McNeil addressed Commander Steel. “What’s the status of the rescue equipment?”

Steel answered, “The port side of the hyperbaric complex is damaged. Luckily, the decompression chambers and all essential gear are contained in metal Conex containers to make them easy to transport, and the extra layer of metal helped protect things. But the port decompression chamber is out of commission for the time being, and there are a few holes in the pressurized flexible manway we’ll need to patch before we can rescue
Dolgoruky
’s crew. The Russian submarine is likely pressurized, and it would be counterproductive to rescue the crew, only to have them die from the bends. However, we can retrieve the PRM from
North Dakota,
because she’s at standard atmospheric pressure.”

“How many men can the PRM carry?” McNeil asked.

“Sixteen, plus two attendants.”

McNeil turned to Harrison. “Take two squads down and regain control of
North Dakota
.”

Harrison conferred with the other SEAL platoon OIC, selecting the fifteen men who would accompany him. Lieutenant Allen left to round up the desired personnel, along with two sets of Spetsnaz Arctic gear. Harrison and Chief Stone would don the gear, gaining a valuable few seconds before the Russians aboard
North Dakota
realized they weren’t Spetsnaz. Harrison turned to Captain Brackman, who had regained consciousness shortly after McNeil arrived; after a quick check by the Undersea Rescue Command’s Medical Officer and a bandage applied to his head, Brackman was released.

“I need a layout of
North Dakota,
” Harrison said.

Brackman located a notepad and pen, then drew a diagram of the Virginia class submarine, showing the compartments and levels. At Harrison’s request, Brackman noted the location of the watertight doors between the compartments and the ladders providing access between levels. Harrison studied the diagrams, then tore the sheets from the notepad.

Commander Steel’s handheld radio squawked. It was the rescue supervisor in the control van. Steel answered and was informed the PRM was on its way up to off-load equipment.

Steel turned to Harrison. “The PRM will be back in the deck cradle in fifteen minutes.”

“How many Spetsnaz are in the PRM?” Harrison asked.

Steel relayed the question, and after the rescue supervisor examined the video feed from the PRM’s interior camera, he replied, “Only one.”

*   *   *

Fifteen minutes later, Harrison stood in the flexible manway beside Chief Stone, with both men wearing the white Spetsnaz outer layer and holding Russian MP-443 pistols in their hands. One end of the manway was open, providing Harrison a view of the LARS A-frame and the ice hole beneath it, while behind him was the deck transfer lock, which provided access to the port and starboard habitrail tunnels leading to the two decompression chambers. The flexible manway was large enough for only two persons to stand abreast, so the remaining fourteen SEALs waited in the deck transfer lock.

The cursor frame that would mate with the PRM descended into the water, and a moment later, Harrison felt the subtle vibrations and heard the groan as the two heavy-duty winches began lifting the PRM. The submersible emerged from the water, its wet surface glistening under the bright ice station lights. It continued upward until it reached the top of the A-frame, where the PRM locked into the latch mechanisms. There was a jolt as the massive A-frame pivoted from the outboard to inboard position, mating the PRM with the end of the flexible manway.

The hatch ring rotated, freeing the lugs from the secured position. There was no window in the door, so it was impossible to tell who was on the other side. The door opened, revealing one of the attendants, Bob Ennis, who glanced at Harrison and Stone before securing the door on the open latch.

Ennis looked again at the two Spetsnaz, speaking dryly, “If either of you happen to understand English, you need to move aside. We’ve got equipment to off-load.”

Neither Harrison nor Stone replied.

Ennis shook his head, then pulled back inside the PRM, and a Spetsnaz appeared in the hatch opening. He said something in Russian, then his eyes narrowed as he examined Harrison and Stone more closely.

Harrison raised his pistol and squeezed off three rounds, the first two hitting the Spetsnaz in the chest and the third in his face. The Spetsnaz fell back into the PRM and Harrison and Stone moved forward, each taking station on one side of the hatch.

“We’re Navy SEALs,” Harrison said to Ennis and whoever else was in the PRM. “We’ve regained control of the ice station. Are there any other Russians inside the PRM?”

“No,” was the reply, and Ennis appeared in the hatch, examining Harrison, then Stone. He stepped from the PRM, followed by Art Glover, the other attendant.

Harrison peered inside the PRM. It was packed with electronic equipment. He turned to Ennis and Glover. “We’re going to off-load the equipment, then head back down with a platoon of SEALs. What can you tell us about the Spetsnaz aboard
North Dakota
?”

The two attendants had little to offer, except that there were fifteen Spetsnaz still aboard the submarine.

“Thanks,” Harrison replied. “Let’s get the PRM off-loaded.”

Chief Stone informed the other SEALs the PRM was secure, and the sixteen SEALs, along with Ennis and Glover, off-loaded the equipment and the dead Spetsnaz.

Ten minutes later, Harrison was aboard the PRM, sitting on a steel seat on the port side, near the hatch they had entered. There were seven SEALs to his left, while Chief Stone and the remaining seven men sat opposite them. Glover was at the far end of the PRM, while Ennis stood beside Harrison. Ennis closed the hatch, sealing the eighteen men inside, then Glover notified the control van. A moment later, Harrison felt the PRM ascend and then lurch as the A-frame shifted to the outboard position. The A-frame came to a halt, and the PRM began its descent.

84

PRM-1
FALCON
• USS
NORTH DAKOTA

PRM-1
FALCON

Harrison listened to the whirr of the submersible’s thrusters as they adjusted
Falcon
’s descent toward
North Dakota
. Although Harrison and Stone wore the Spetsnaz white outer layer, the other fourteen SEALs wore their black insulated wet suits. Harrison and Stone had discarded the Russian MP-443 pistols, since they didn’t have silencers, in favor of the MP7, hanging from a sling around each man’s neck. When he and Stone boarded
North Dakota,
there were two things each man needed to conceal as long as possible: his face and his weapon. Once a Spetsnaz spotted either, he’d realize something was amiss. Still, Harrison figured they’d be able to descend the ladder before anyone got suspicious.

The whine of the PRM’s thrusters increased, and the submersible’s descent slowed. There was a clank as the PRM struck a metal object, and the thrusters coasted to a halt. Bob Ennis activated the low-pressure dewatering pump, which began dewatering the transfer skirt between the PRM and submarine hatches. He then opened an equalizing line between the PRM and the transfer skirt, which allowed air to flow in as the water was pumped out, and Glover bled air from the air banks into the PRM to maintain it at one atmosphere.

While they waited, Ennis explained that an initial “soft” seal had been created between the PRM and submarine by a rubber gasket on the bottom of the transfer skirt. As water was pumped out, creating a pressure differential, the final seal would be metal-to-metal as the rubber gasket was depressed. The sea pressure would force the PRM onto the submarine like a giant suction cup.

After verifying the pressure on each side of the transfer skirt hatch was the same and holding, Ennis opened the hatch, revealing the black surface of the submarine beneath six feet of seawater. He unhooked two dewatering hoses and lowered them through the hatch until they came to rest on top of the submarine, then activated two high-pressure dewatering pumps, which pumped out the remaining water.

Ennis retrieved and fastened a metal rope ladder to the top of PRM, letting it fall through the hatch. He climbed down onto the submarine and tapped on the hatch fairing with a metal hammer. He stood to the side as the hatch opened, pushed upward by a Spetsnaz with his Arctic parka removed, revealing his green mid-layer.

The Spetsnaz dropped down out of the way, and Harrison descended the ladder, with Stone following closely behind.

USS
NORTH DAKOTA

Standing in the Command Post of the American submarine with six other Spetsnaz, Captain Second Rank Leonov heard the metal clank of the PRM mating with the submarine. That was Leonov’s signal to wrap things up. They would board the PRM, with each man carrying whatever additional equipment he could fit in his lap.

But first, Leonov descended to the Torpedo Room, then headed to the forward end of the compartment, where a block of C-4 was pressed to the top of each torpedo warhead. Twenty-three of the detonators had been slaved to a master, and Leonov stopped to examine it. After verifying the timer delay was set to one hour, he reached into the duffel bag and retrieved the remote initiator, which he would activate before boarding the American submersible. He slid it into his pocket, then turned and headed toward the Torpedo Room exit.

PRM-1
FALCON

Harrison descended the ladder into
North Dakota,
looking down to identify the number and location of the men below. There was a single Spetsnaz, who was standing on the left side of the ladder. As Harrison landed on the deck, he turned to the right, presenting his back to the Russian so he couldn’t see his face. He unzipped his parka and retrieved his MP7, and when he heard Chief Stone’s feet hit the deck, he turned toward the Spetsnaz, as did Stone. The man’s eyes widened, but before he could react, Harrison put three bullets into him.

After donning his headset from his pocket, he called into the PRM, and the other fourteen SEALs descended. Harrison dispersed a two-man team to each level of the Forward Compartment, joining the seventh SEAL in his squad to form a second team in middle level, while Chief Stone led his squad aft.

It wasn’t long before they encountered a Spetsnaz, disassembling a rack of equipment in upper level. Three whispers from an MP7 dropped the Spetsnaz, and the lead team continued on while Harrison dropped down to middle level behind another team. The SEALs emerged into the submarine’s Control Room, filled with a half-dozen Spetsnaz, plus what looked like one crew member seated at the Ship Control Station. The two SEALs in front of Harrison opened fire, taking down four Spetsnaz while the other two Russians dove behind equipment.

Harrison moved to the starboard side of the Control Room while the first pair of SEALs moved quickly down the port side, killing the two remaining Spetsnaz before they could retrieve their weapons. The first two SEALs continued through the forward opening of the Control Room, while Harrison stopped beside the man seated at the Ship Control Station. A quick interrogation determined he was Chief Larry Johnson, placed on watch by the Russians to ensure the submarine remained stable while it was being stripped.

Lieutenant Harrison remained in Control to assess the situation, listening to headset comms. Everything was going well. There were no SEAL casualties so far and ten dead Spetsnaz. Only five more to go.

*   *   *

Leonov had just reached the staircase leading from the Torpedo Room when a man in a black wet suit began his descent. It took Leonov only a second to realize he wasn’t a Spetsnaz and a split second more to realize what he was. Leonov reached for his pistol as he ducked out of the way, but was too slow. The advancing SEAL had his weapon raised, and fired three rounds.

Two bullets tore into Leonov’s chest and a third hit him in the forehead, snapping his head back. He collapsed to the deck as pain tore through his body. The SEAL stepped over him and a second man removed the pistol from his grip, tossing it aside. A second later and both men were gone. Leonov lay on his stomach at the base of the ladder in agony, wondering how he was still alive. He’d been shot in the head. Slowly, he moved his hand up and located a long wound on the left side of his head. The bullet had impacted at an angle, and must have ricocheted to the outside instead of piercing his skull. Not that it mattered. He was already having difficulty breathing; his lungs were filling with blood.

The two Americans returned from where they had headed, this time at a more leisurely pace. One of them spoke into his headset, reporting the Forward Compartment, Lower Level, was secure. He asked if assistance was required elsewhere, and after a short pause, the man replied, “Understand.
North Dakota
is secure.”

One of the two SEALs reached down, and Leonov closed his eyes as the man lifted him roughly to the side to examine him. He released Leonov and he fell onto the deck again. The two Americans left him behind, climbing the ladder to middle level.

Leonov could barely move, but was able to reach inside his pocket and retrieve the remote detonator. As his vision faded to darkness, he slid the protective cover out of the way and pressed the button, sending the signal to the master detonator.

85

USS
NORTH DAKOTA

Gathered around the navigation plot in Control, Lieutenant Harrison received updates from Chief Stone and his two squad leaders. All fifteen Spetsnaz were accounted for, which translated to fifteen dead Russians, while Harrison’s men had suffered no casualties. They had taken the Russians by surprise. They had also located the crew, bound in berthing, and after dispatching the Spetsnaz guarding them, they were now being freed, the plastic ties around their wrists and ankles cut. Crew members were straggling into Control, each man stopping in his tracks upon entering the gutted Control Room.