Under the Ice

Several crew members could be seen also rising from the debris-laden deck, while others still lay prone on the floor, unmoving. Broken glass and overturned equipment were everywhere, and Sergei could smell the sickening scent of burning electrical wiring.

As the ship’s various departments slowly began reporting in, it was soon evident that the damage was widespread, though it was especially bad in the engine room, where the blast was centered. Here several crew members, including Boris Koslov the Neva’s chief engineer, had been instantly killed. The handful of survivors not seriously injured was currently trying to plug a leak that had developed in the seal that surrounded the propeller shaft where it penetrated the hull. The only good news was that somehow the sub’s hull had remained intact. Yet with their engines and weapons’ systems inoperable, the submarine could hardly be considered a man-of-war anymore.

“I’m having difficulty keeping the trim balanced, Captain,” observed the diving officer.

“That leak in the engine room must be getting worse, because the pumps don’t seem to be able to keep up with it.”

“Sir, the shock of the blast caused the electrical circuits to overload, and we no longer have sonar capabilities,” added the somber sonar operator.

Silently absorbing all this information, Sergei Markova grimly pondered the limited options he had. Lying dead in the water as they were, the only apparent way to save the Neva was to order the emergency ballast jettisoned. This would send them floating upward to the relative safety of the sea’s surface. Yet since the ship no longer had sonar capabilities, there was no way for him to know whether the waters above were encrusted with ice. If they were, and the ascending Neva crashed into an impenetrable ice ridge, the resulting concussion would surely crack the hull of the already damaged vessel and send them spiraling into the black depths on a final dive into oblivion.

Things were vastly different inside the control room of the USS Defiance. Here a joyous, party like atmosphere prevailed as they celebrated their successful attack with a round of spirited high-fives and a chorus of excited chatter. Taking a moment to celebrate himself. Matt Colter accepted a warm handshake from his XO.

“Congratulations, Skipper. I guess this makes you the first sub ace of the Cold War.”

“That’s a dubious honor I can easily live without,” retorted the captain, as he took in the two figures standing next to his XO, beside the plotting table.

Both Laurie Lansing and Lieutenant Jack Redmond looked strangely out of place. Neither one of them had joined in on the festivities, and both looked like they were on their way to a funeral.

“Are we going to finish them off. Skipper?” quizzed the XO.

“From what Mr. Roth says, they’re just laying there dead in the water. Why don’t we put Ivan out of his misery once and for all with a couple of well-aimed fish.”

“I think that would be a tragic mistake,” offered the close-lipped Canadian commando.

“And why do you say that, Lieutenant?” countered the XO.

“The Russians are clearly the aggressors in this matter, and I can guarantee you they wouldn’t hesitate to finish us off if our positions were reversed.”

“That might indeed be true,” continued Jack Redmond.

“But you’re forgetting what brought us here in the first place. And no matter how you look at it, the Soviets beat us to that cockpit voice recorder.

If we proceed to sink them, the black box will be lost in the depths.”

“He’s got a point there, Al,” reflected the captain.

“Although I’m not really sure what we can do to help them out. It looks like they took our torpedo right in the stern, and if they’re taking on water as it appears, it’s doubtful if even a DSRV could get here in time to save them.”

This time it was the civilian scientist who spoke up.

“Captain Colter, is the Defiance rigged with an underwater telephone?”

“Of course we have one, along with every modern submarine that sails the ocean today,” answered Colter.

“Why do you ask?”

An inspired gleam flickered in the civilian’s dark eyes as she responded.

“Well, I think under the current circumstances it would be in our best interest to give that Soviet crew a call. Who knows, perhaps there’s something we might be able to do to help them out.”

“I say such a thing is just too risky,” returned the XO.

“To establish communications with them, we’d have to move to a closer range. What if Ivan’s just playing possum, and takes this opportunity to launch his own torpedoes?”

With a heavy sigh, Jack Redmond replied.

“I guess that’s just the chance that we’re going to have to take. Because if we ever hope to see that black box again, this is our last chance.”

Knowing full well that the Canadian was correct, Matt Colter nodded.

“Let’s give a phone call a try.

Yet just to be on the safe side, we’d better put some fresh fish in the tubes and be ready to use them.”