Ripple (Breakthrough Book 4)

by Michael C. Grumley

  “We are in position. You are clear.”

  ***

  Popov nodded. With a simple “affirmative,” he replaced the handset on the wall and turned to his men. Wearing thin black wetsuits and SCUBA gear, each man stood side by side, packing the small gray metal room.

  Each of the Russians raised their face mask, pulled it over the top of their neoprene hoodie, and breathed in the cool air coming from the short aluminum tank on their back.

  With a nod from Popov, two men stepped forward where they unlocked and pulled the hatch open, allowing a flood of seawater to begin bubbling up into the chamber.

  Submarine escape training, or more specifically, a controlled submarine escape, was something all sailors were ready for. But to American SEALS and Russian Spetsnaz soldiers, who both trained relentlessly on land and sea, it was routine. The men waited patiently while the bubbling seawater swirled around the room, rising rapidly above their knees and then their lower legs.

  The water promptly engulfed the heavy waterproof bags standing before each of the Spetsnaz troops, in addition to several black cone-shaped objects. Larger than civilian models, the Dive Propulsion Vehicles, more commonly known as DPVs, were heavier and more powerful. They made for a huge advantage, being able to deliver Spetsnaz Special Forces teams to their targets faster and with virtually no expended energy.

  Once the room had filled, the outer hatch was fully opened, allowing the men to push their gear out ahead of themselves. They exited in rapid single-file fashion. After leaving the sub’s outer hull, each floated silently outside.

  In less than two minutes, both teams were out. Popov motioned to Junior Sergeant Levin, who remained close enough to see. In near-perfect synchronization, the men grouped into their two teams and powered up their vehicles. With each of their bags dangling behind them and the electric motors on their DPVs spinning silently, the men all disappeared into the darkness.

  81

  Neely Lawton had a mug to her lips when the younger Lee Kenwood burst through the door of the lab, out of breath. Next to her sat Will Borger, also frozen at the interruption.

  “We have trouble! Come on!”

  They each looked at the other, and then jumped from their seats, running for the door––already swinging closed.

  When they made it to the small room where Lee was working, they hastily crowded behind him and his monitor. Lee tapped a button on his keyboard and spoke into the mike.

  “They’re here, Ali!”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know,” said Alison’s voice through the speakers. “But it doesn’t seem good. All the dolphins down here are freaking out about something!”

  “Freaking out? What does that mean?”

  “It means,” she answered, “that they’re going ballistic. Something bad is happening.”

  On the ship, Lee Kenwood reached down and pressed another button, bringing up a window displaying all the sounds that IMIS was hearing. A black spectrogram presented the information on red and green graphs. The red one was pegged to the upper edge of the window.

  “IMIS is completely overwhelmed,” Lee said. “And it’s not stopping.”

  “Jesus,” Neely breathed. “Alison, what the hell is going on?! What is it that’s so bad?”

  ***

  “I don’t know!”

  In front of her, the wall of dolphins was steadily growing larger, intensifying the communication to a fevered pitch that was now only noise to the translation system.

  “Lee had to stop all the translations, except Sally’s. And she says that something is here. But she can’t explain any more than that.”

  “Something is here?” Neely asked. “What?”

  “I don’t—” Alison paused, studying the massive group of dolphins. All moved slowly, facing primarily in one direction. She then peered up through the dark water to see part of the Pathfinder’s bottom above her.

  “I think…” she said, tracing from what she believed was the stern forward to the bow, “they are facing in the direction of the Valant.”

  ***

  Neely frowned, looking at Borger and Kenwood. “The oil rig?”

  “I think so,” Alison repeated. “And they are really excited about something!”

  “Alison, I think you’d better get back to the surface.”

  ***

  Alison glanced at the dive computer on her wrist before shaking her head. “Not yet. I have more time.”

  “I’m not worried about how much more time you have,” Neely’s voice shot back. “I’m worried about what the hell is happening.”

  She nodded. “So am I. But I think I’m at a safe distance.”

  Neely gritted her teeth in frustration. How could she know if she was at a safe distance when she didn’t even know what it was? She turned to Borger. “Could there be something wrong with the Valant?”

  He shrugged. “Sure it’s possible. But what would cause this kind of reaction?”

  “Something dangerous?”

  Borger squinted. “But what from the Valant could pose a danger to them?”

  “You tell me?”

  Borger continued thinking. The vessel suddenly becoming unmoored? Or maybe a leak? He looked at Neely. “What if there’s still oil left in the rigging and it’s leaking?”

  Neely’s eyes grew worried. “It wouldn’t take much to pollute this whole area!” She leaned toward the microphone and raised her voice. “Alison, could it be an oil leak from the Valant?”

  “I don’t know, maybe. I’d have to get closer.”

  “How much more time do you have left?” Neely asked.

  Alison glanced at the dive computer again. “About twenty minutes.”

  Neely’s voice grew even louder. “Twenty minutes or about twenty minutes?!”

  “Twenty-two minutes,” Alison snapped back.

  Neely looked at Borger, who was now shaking his head. “The Valant is a quarter of a mile away. She can’t make it there and back.”

  ***

  In her earbuds, Alison could hear Borger. She immediately turned to Sally and found her still watching the others.

  “Sally, what is happening?”

  No know Alison.

  “I need to get to the other metal. Can you take me? Important.”

  Sally twisted her slick gray body and peered back.

  “Important!” repeated Alison.

  The words were translated, and she waited for a response from Sally. When it came, it was only one word.

  Okay.

  “You’ll take me?”

  Sally paused again, as if considering.

  Yes. Fast.

  “Yes, Sally. Very fast!”

  ***

  Neely straightened up, leaving a hand on the back of Lee’s chair.

  “Where are Tay and Lightfoot?”

  “They’re descending with the drill. With Gorski’s men.”

  “Can we talk to them?”

  He nodded. “From my machine, we can.”

  With that, Neely put a reassuring hand on Lee’s shoulder and told him they’d be right back. Together, she and Borger raced out of the room and back to the lab, their feet pounding hard against the ship’s loud metal flooring.

  82

  Tay and Lightfoot were less than a hundred feet away from the alien ship when they heard Borger’s hurried voice over their headsets.

  “Elgin! Are you there?”

  Gorski’s men, Corbin and Beene, were on the other side of the drill. All four slowed their descent when they heard Borger.

  “I’m here, Will. What’s up?”

  “We may have a situation.”

  Tay looked curiously at Lightfoot and then at Beene, who was rounding one side of the giant drill in slow motion. “What kind of situation?”

  “We’re not sure yet,” Borger said. “But Alison says all the dolphins down there are freaking out about something in your area.”

  Underwater, the four men turned in all directions and fol
lowed the bright light of their helmets into the darkness as far as they could.

  Tay listened for a moment. “I don’t see or hear anything.” He looked at the other three, all shaking their heads in unison.

  “Nope.”

  “Me either.”

  “Okay,” Borger’s voice said. “Something’s alerted the dolphins where she is, and we’re not sure what it’s all about yet. But we’re worried it might have something to do with the Valant. Maybe a leak or something that the dolphins can detect and we can’t.”

  “What kind of leak?”

  “Beats me. Maybe some lingering oil from somewhere?”

  The men looked up, now staring through the dark water above them, unable to see anything.

  “It’s right over us, but we haven’t noticed anything in the water. If it was a leak, it would have to be pretty small.”

  “Yeah, but it might not take much to signal danger to them.”

  “We can come back down again when we’re done and test the water.”

  “Okay,” Borger replied. “Just keep us posted if you notice anything. We’ll keep looking into it from up here.”

  “Roger.”

  With that, the men resumed and continued toward the alien ship.

  ***

  When they reached the upper section of the gray wall, they turned the drill around and extended four legs out. Each leg ended with a massive silicone suction cup around the base, designed to assist in keeping the drill securely in place.

  “All right. Let’s ease it in,” Tay said. While he and Lightfoot held onto either side, Corbin and Beene guided gently from the legs––all in slow motion that resembled astronauts working in space.

  The huge drill kept drifting gradually closer, smoothly and without incident, when suddenly things changed. Now just several feet away, the drill began to accelerate toward the wall, subtly at first but then faster.

  “Whoa! Whoa! Slow it down!” Tay yelled into his mike.

  Both Corbin and Beene immediately sensed the change in speed. The giant machine nearly broke free of their grip, causing the men to pull backward, only to have it begin to pull them along with it.

  “It’s taking us too!”

  “SLOW IT DOWN!” Tay yelled again.

  “I can’t!”

  All four men quickly began kicking their feet and pointed away from the ship. First hard, then almost desperately, all in an attempt to slow the drill’s approach.

  “It’s the damn magnetism!”

  “Pull harder!”

  Each man kicked violently now. They gave it everything they had, desperate to keep the tool from slamming into the metal wall.

  Suddenly with four powerful thunks, the drill hit the gray surface, sending brief shoots of glowing green lights outward from the contact point of each leg.

  No one spoke until the glow had faded.

  “Stronger than we thought.” Lightfoot swam forward, withdrew a large piece of steel from the drill’s outer housing, and edged it in under the nose of the drill as a lever. “Let’s hope it’s not as hard to get back off.”

  Simultaneously, each man tested the placement of one of the feet against the wall before pressing its thick silicone cup into place.

  “Okay. We’re secure.” Tay pushed himself backward, running along the length of the drill to the small instrument panel. “Double-check the bit.”

  Lightfoot and Corbin examined the three-inch-wide bit from either side. It rested solidly in the middle, tightly packed in the shape of a spiral. The one long continuous ridge would allow it to carefully expand the hole after breaking through the first layer of wall.

  “Looks good,” Lightfoot nodded. “I think we’re ready!”

  Both men faded back as Tay flipped the safety switch out of the way and pressed the power button. In an instant, the drill’s electric motor began to spin, and the powerful bit spiraled outward.

  Next to the spinning bit, a red laser illuminated brightly against the metal, measuring its impact depth to a millionth of an inch.

  With one last nod from the other men, Tay pressed a second button to engage the drive, and the tip of the drill abruptly began inching forward.

  83

  Approaching the oil rig just below the surface of the water, Junior Sergeant Levin was the first to notice it.

  With both hands wrapped firmly around the handle of his underwater scooter, he and the remainder of his Russian team could all see the bright glow beneath them––four distinct glimmering points, actually.

  Perhaps seventy feet below, near the coral, four tiny lights moved independently around what appeared to be a larger object. Although too far away to be seen clearly, even from a distance, it was clear to Levin and his men what the lights were.

  Four of the American divers were working on something. In secrecy.

  Belov had been right.

  84

  The Russian Spetsnaz troops were not the only ones who could see Tay and the others working the drill. Alison could see them too, from a different direction.

  But to Alison’s surprise, Sally was not swimming toward the oil rig. At least not that she could see. Instead, they seemed to be heading north of both the rig and the Pathfinder to an area between the two vessels, illuminated only by the fluorescent green glow of the coral below.

  After several minutes, Alison could feel Sally begin to slow. She raised her head, peering forward into the darkness. Her headlamp lit up Sally’s gray body directly in front of her, but little else. Even with the exceptional visibility of the Caribbean, she could not make out anything before them in the darkness, except for the specks of particles and sediment flowing past.

  But Sally did not stop. Still moving slowly and rhythmically through the water, an object finally began to take shape in front of them.

  Alison stared harder, trying to filter out the wash of her light, straining to see what its furthest and faintest rays were now reaching.

  She patted Sally’s side with her free hand. “Are we there, Sally?”

  She answered with a series of clicks that Alison’s vest could not capture. But Sally pressed on, still moving forward.

  And then Alison saw it.

  Revealed by both her own lamp and the faint rays of the full moon penetrating the water from above, Alison saw the dark outline of what was simply unmistakable.

  “LEE!” she screamed into her microphone.

  “Ali?”

  “Oh my God, Lee! It’s a submarine! It’s a SUBMARINE!”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure! And it’s HUGE!”

  “Oh geez!” A panicked Lee Kenwood ran to the door and flung it open, looking down the hallway for Neely or Borger. For anyone!

  He then ran back to his desk. “Okay. Wait here! I’ll be right back!”

  When he threw open the door to the lab, it slammed hard enough against the inside wall to put a dent on the other side. Lee almost yelled the news to Neely and Borger. “We’ve got company!”

  ***

  Neely was running at full speed, pounding the metal below her feet, until she reached the ladder and sprinted up two steps at a time. She left behind a winded Borger, huffing and puffing to keep up.

  She reached the next level easily and continued forward as fast as she could, heading for the side door to the Pathfinder’s bridge. She pulled it open and scanned the room with her eyes, first seeing First Officer Harris. Captain Emerson was standing beside him.

  The echoes of Borger’s laboring steps could be heard as she stepped inside, a sound of panic in her voice.

  “Captain!” she panted. “There’s a submarine! In the water! Just over there!” She pointed out the large window, not far from the red lights of the oil rig.

  “What?!”

  “A submarine, sir! Right out there. Submerged.”

  With wide eyes, both Emerson and Harris looked forward at their sonar officer who immediately turned back around to his instruments.

  “I want a full scan
right now!”

  “Yes, sir!”

  The others turned to see a hyperventilating Will Borger open the door and step inside behind Neely.

  “How do you know, Commander?”

  Neely motioned back the way she came. “The dolphins…all of them began freaking out. We didn’t know why. So Alison went to investigate. She just saw it…the submarine. Just now!”

  “How sure is she?”

  “Very!”

  Emerson looked to Borger who nodded in agreement, while still sucking in air.

  “Sir,” Emerson’s sonar officer said aloud. “I’m not picking up anything. Nothing at all.”

  “Then do an active scan! If there’s someone out there, they damn sure already know where we are!”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Neely suddenly gasped. “Oh my God!” she said with her hands over her mouth.

  “What, Commander?”

  “The sonar array! Earlier today it detected something, and we thought it was a false alarm. But it wasn’t! Oh God!”

  “Sir! Nothing on active either.” The sonar officer turned around in his chair. “We’re not seeing anything.”

  Emerson turned to Neely. “Commander, get your team on the line right now! If this system of yours detected something, then find out what.”

  “Yes, sir!” Neely and Borger nodded before immediately running back out the door.

  “Mister Harris, sound general quarters. Prepare to repel boarders!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Emerson raced to the tall windows and looked down upon the bow of the ship. On the front, sitting quietly, was a Sea King attack helicopter.

  Emerson raised his voice loud for Harris to hear. “And get that chopper in the air right now. And I mean RIGHT NOW!”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Emerson kept his eyes focused on the Sea King. It was the same anti-submarine helicopter that was aboard the Bowditch, stationed intentionally as a defensive tactic only to be destroyed along with the rest of the ship. If there was a sub out there, they were sure as hell not going to make the same mistake twice!