Voyage of the Devilfish

And without sonar and firecontrol, as Ivanov had said, Kaliningrad was no longer an offensive-weapon system, was no longer able to track the American submarine or shoot at it again. But they could hope the American would be on the bottom within the hour, the Magnum torpedo inflicting their revenge. The Magnum had fuel for 60 to 90 minutes of pursuit, and it had only been 23 minutes since it was launched. But without sonar and firecontrol, Novskoyy thought, it would be difficult to return to Severomorsk. Well, at least the communications computer was still up and running, he only needed to reach the polynya to transmit the attack order, the molniya… Without sonar, there was no way of him detecting that the Magnum had turned around and was heading back to the aimpoint a mere eight kilometers from the west side of the polynya. Ivanov looked over at Novskoyy, a phone in his hand.

“The communications circuits are intact. Admiral. Once we reach the polynya you will still be able to transmit your message.” Novskoyy nodded, the man echoed his own thoughts, which turned bitter as he muttered, “I wanted to put all the computers up forward in the first compartment but Vlasenko insisted that the systems be split out. If all four had remained up forward as I had envisioned the ship would be at full capacity—”

“Not full, sir,” Ivanov said, looking at the damage-control display, “the oil-shield tank in compartment five is ruptured. The inner hull is compromised over more than half the circumference. Another explosion like that last one and we could be cut in half.”

“There will be no more detonations. The Magnum will be taking care of the American and very soon.”

“I wish we had some sonar. Admiral. Without it we’ll have to guess at the boundaries of the polynya. And there is no way to see if the Magnum has turned toward us.”

“We will find the polynya,” Novskoyy pronounced.

“And the Magnum will find the Americans.” Kaliningrad continued west, nearing the pressure ridge at the east end of the oval-shaped polynya.

NORFOLK, VIRGINIA

ALTITUDE: 100 FEET

Lieutenant Commander Todd Nikels pulled the F-14 into a final five-g turn and grunted against the g’s as the plane whipped around on an approach vector to the SSN-X-27 cruise missile.

“Fifteen seconds to intercept,” Tollson, the radar-intercept officer, called out. “Yeah, that’s it. Okay, radar contact, I’m looking at five miles, come on, close the bastard, it’s only doing maybe six-hundred knots.” Nikels pulled up his MASTER ARM switch and armed the Mongoose heatseeking missiles, then held his breath, waiting for Tollson to call the firing point. At this hour of the morning he didn’t expect to see the target missile at all.

“Range, one point five miles… come left five degrees… that’s it… stand by, and… FIRE!” Nikels pushed the launch button on the control stick and felt the plane jump as the rocket motor lit up the sky in front of him and the Mongoose left the rail on the port wing enroute to the target. Momentarily blinded, Nikels blinked rapidly while he spoke into the intercom.

“Firing one.”

“Roger,” Tollson said, “FIRE.” Nikels hit the stick button again, and again a Mongoose missile lit up the night sky as it flew away. This time Nikels had clenched his eyes shut so he would have the night vision to follow the missile to see if he got a kill.

“Fire two. Are you tracking?”

“Got’em,” Tollson said. Nikels looked out ahead at the Mongoose tracks as the heatseeking missiles flew on toward the cruise missile fired by the Vladivostok as it neared the boundary between the air base and the naval base, passed over a fence and was now officially over Norfolk Naval Base…

ARCTIC OCEAN

BENEATH THE POLAR ICECAP

FS KALININGRAD

CONTROL COMPARTMENT ESCAPE POD