AK 239: The Enemy Is Already Here

The Russians had become more and more provocative over the past year sending submarines into the English Channel and up and down the East Coast of the United States. Fred thought it unusual the only area Russian subs had not been reported for years now, was Alaska and the West Coast of the United States.

As Fred opened his tuna fish sandwich for another boring lunch he took a second look at his screen and stopped chewing. He put his sandwich down and started manipulating two large color screens on his desk. Puzzled, he continued to search further and now only now began to chew.

He yelled out with a mouthful of food, “Jerry!”

A voice from the other side of the cubicle, rat maze, answered back, “Ya?”

Fred said, “Come here please.”

Jerry Fredricks was even nerdier than Fred but knew just about everything there was to know about this now antiquated satellite system and its glichy software. Jerry used to work in systems for the National Reconnaissance Office before coming to the NSA. Jerry rounded the corner of Fred’s cubicle.

Fred impatiently, says, “Look at these two pictures. See anything missing?”

Jerry looks at one dry dock screen from Severodvinsk, Russia and then the same dry dock on the next satellite pass. Jerry puzzled says, “Ya, no TK-20 and no TK-17. When was this?”

Fred, “Last month. I was looking to archive the month and happened to see this. Now watch. Next satellite pass the sub is there again. Is it possible the image with the missing sub is another software glitch?”

“Impossible!” says Jerry with the confidence of General Patton since this would be admitting a mistake he should have caught.

Even Fred looks at the nerdy accountant type and can’t believe his confidence.

“That’s not TK-20. Whatever is sitting there is not a complete Typhoon.” Fred points to the front nose cone that’s missing.

“Ya, but aren’t they suppose to be dismantling it?”

But if you take a nose cone off a ship below the waterline here it would sink, right?”

“That’s what I was wondering. Is it possible that’s a decoy?”

You have way too much imagination, TV soldier.”

“So why is it still floating?” Asks Fred.

Jerry says, “I wouldn’t worry about it. They probably tore it apart early and have keel stands under the hull.”

“This isn’t a dry dock, Jerry. How do you get keel stands under a floating sub sitting in nineteen meters of water?

“I don’t know. You’re the expert,” says Jerry. “They can’t get half of their subs operational anyway. It’s not like it disappeared into the ocean or somethin’.

“Say, you gonna eat the rest of that sandwich?”

Gulf of Alaska

Jack Tanner’s Diary

^{Four days ’til Christmas}

^{Present day}

Few places in the world are darker than an overcast night on Alaskan waters, especially in late December. In the Klondike Gold Rush from 1897 to 1899 hundreds of marine accidents occurred in Southeastern Alaska and, too many mariners to count, had met their Maker in these exact conditions.

But for me, Jack Tanner, a third generation fisherman, from Ketchikan this night would give me one big frickin’ fish story.

And just in time for Christmas too!

The alcohol is really taking a toll on me, what’s left of my family and my poor partner, Mike Gardener.

Anyway right now, we’re in trouble.

Big trouble!

Our fifty-eight foot Northern Jaegar named, The Black Pearl, is stalled and sitting dead in the water.

We are in no man’s land!

We’re stuck halfway between U.S Coast Guard Air Station Sitka and Station Ketchikan.

And it’s all my fault!

I have no reason being out this far.

This is beyond stupid.

I’m going to get me and Mike killed.

And killed tonight!

Normally, a seasoned sailor like myself would never be fishing for anything this far out in December.

I’m well over forty miles from the nearest Coast Guard station.

But desperate times call for desperate…

Well, you know the word.

I owe a huge mortgage on my boat and desperately need money.

Mostly for my stupid alcohol habit!

This storm is closing in on us fast and we need to move!

I had already radioed the Coast Guard.

An MH-65 dolphin helicopter radioed back that they were at least seven minutes out bucking gale force winds at around forty knots (But gusts were over 100!).

Hurry!

I screamed into the two way!

I waited forever to make the call as we’re fishing in a no fishing zone and the Coast Guard will likely give me one big fine.

Mike was down in the engine room attempting to fix a fuel leak in my old Detroit Diesel.

Storm or no storm, I’m not about to ditch my only source of income into the black abyss!

You don’t walk away from a $650,000.00 investment, especially when you were stupid enough to let the insurance lapse.

I’d been chasing fish all day and coming up empty. I had three sonar systems on board but only one works: My old Veinland 3d sonar! I see what appears to be a large school of fish right below. disgusted, I shake my head before yelling to Mike,

“Did you stop the leak?”