“You’ll see. If it works, that is.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Durand already knew the answer. They all did.
Chapter 59
November 9, 2017, 12:50 UTC
U-Boot-Bunker (Submarine Pen)
Kriegsmarine Base 211
Ronne Ice Shelf (Antarctica)
77° 51' 19.79" S -61° 17' 34.20" W
Depth 10 feet
AUV Nellie
Nellie was home.
Her battery packs had run down to their minimum safe operating levels, initiating a ‘limp home’ subroutine in her programming. Nellie had followed the homing signal continuously broadcast from the Barracuda and was preparing to be retrieved and recharged before resuming her survey mission.
Chapter 60
November 9, 2017, 12:50 UTC
U-Boot-Bunker (Submarine Pen)
Kriegsmarine Base 211
Ronne Ice Shelf (Antarctica)
77° 51' 19.79" S -61° 17' 34.20" W
U-2532
The timer on the cell phone sized touch screen counted down to detonation. If they were all set to blow at the same time, and Jack was working on the assumption that they were, there wouldn’t be enough time to deal with all six charges. The timer showed 3 minutes until detonation.
Unless …
“I’m going to do this one with Durand, so watch closely. Then, Durand, Juan and I will keep working toward the bow and do the other two charges.” Jack spoke urgently and paused to catch a breath. “Captain, you and Dave will work aft and do the remaining three charges. Right?”
They all nodded but clearly had no idea what they were supposed to do.
“Durand, get ready to pass another extinguisher when I say.” Jack then began blasting the C4 charge with a jet of CO2 from the extinguisher. As soon as it began to spurt empty, he threw it aside.
“Now!”
Durand pulled the safety pin from an extinguisher and handed it to Jack who continued to blast the scuttle charge until it was white and crystalline.
The timer kept counting down.
“It didn’t work,” squeaked Juan. Sweat dripped from his face.
“OK, you three go.” Jameson and Dave scurried aft cradling arms full of fire extinguishers.
“Durand, Juan, with me, let’s go.” Together the three made their way toward the bow.
“Where is it?” Jack asked Juan.
The man was trembling like a schoolboy after his first kiss and stared blankly at Jack as if he didn’t understand the question.
Jack placed both hands on Juan’s shoulders. “Son, I know this has been a real shitty day for you but it’s not been all that much fun for me, either, but trust me, if you don’t show me where those fucking explosives are, it’s gonna get a whole lot worse. I need you to stay with me and stay focused. Are you with me?”
Juan’s eyes began to focus on Jack. He wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his sleeve and pointed to a rack full of torpedoes in the next compartment.
“Good man, come on, let’s go,” Jack spoke as reassuringly as he could.
The next explosive responded to the CO2 treatment the same as the first. The C4 charge turned white and frosty but the timer continued to count down.
Juan didn’t need to be coaxed, he was already lugging the remaining extinguishers to the third charge by the time they’d finished emptying a second one on the second explosive.
Jack and Durand caught up with him near the torpedo tubes where he stood pointing at a charge stuck to the bulkhead.
The counter counted down.
00:09.
Jack snatched a fire extinguisher from Juan and directed a blast at the final explosive.
00:06
It ran dry.
00:05
Juan shouldered Jack out of the way and began to empty the contents of their last extinguisher at the C4 charge. His knuckles turned white he squeezed the handle so hard.
00:02
The last extinguisher sputtered.
Empty.
00:01
The three men stared wide eyed at the explosive package, waiting for it to detonate.
A second later, it did.
Chapter 61
November 9, 2017, 12:55 UTC
South Pacific Ocean
Location: Classified
Tomahawk Land Attack Missile – Nuclear Variant (TLAM-N)
Countdown to impact: 0.20 minutes.
Chapter 62
November 9, 2017, 12:55 UTC
U-Boot-Bunker (Submarine Pen)
Kriegsmarine Base 211
Ronne Ice Shelf (Antarctica)
77° 51' 19.79" S -61° 17' 34.20" W
U-2532
00:00
The detonator exploded.
The sharp crack and fizzle as the small detonation charge blew sounded ear shattering in the confined space of the torpedo room, but nowhere near as loud as it would have been had the C4 Block Demolition charge not been frozen solid and rendered inert and totally harmless.
“You did it,” Juan slapped Jack on the back.
“No, you did it. Good work,” Jack commended Juan.
Suddenly the deck moved beneath them.
“Did the others not make it?” Juan thought of Dave being blown up and water rushing through a gaping hole in the submarine.
“Relax,” Jack spoke quietly as he listened for the sound of gushing water. “We would have heard the blast. This thing is like a steel drum.”
“It’s the Barracuda. She’s submerging before making way for the tunnel,” Durand clarified.
“Once she hits the open water, the show’s over.” Jack slumped against a torpedo slung in a block and tackle, ready to be loaded and fired at an enemy that hadn’t existed for over 70 years.
There was a beat of resigned silence.
Then Durand’s eyes blazed with excitement and at the same time were met by a similar gleam from Jack eyes.
Juan looked from one man to the other and saw the eagerness on their faces.
Then it also came to Juan in a flash of inspiration.
All three men came to the same absurd and totally boneheaded idea at exactly the same time.
Chapter 63
November 9, 2017, 13:00 UTC
U-Boot-Bunker (Submarine Pen)
Kriegsmarine Base 211
Ronne Ice Shelf (Antarctica)
77° 51' 19.79" S -61° 17' 34.20" W
U-2532
The torpedo slid into the empty torpedo tube with little effort. The entire loading mechanism had been designed for quick reloads in cramped quarters with minimal manpower. German efficiency at its best.
Closing and locking the hatch, Durand wiped his hands on an oily cloth the previous torpedo crew had used many years ago. In different circumstances he might have felt almost nostalgic, but right now there wasn’t time for that.
“Do you know how to fire it?” Jack asked.
“Oh yeah. We studied these in training. The Germans built crap torpedoes but the Siemens torpedo fire control system they developed was real smart. A lot of modern day firing systems are based on these principles. They had what they called the TDC or Torpedo Data Computer to handle the gyro settings, torpedo spread and depth. All good stuff but half their torpedoes didn’t blow when they hit their target. Accurate but not very deadly.”
“Another lesson for those Nazi bastards to take back with them and make good,” Jack hissed.
“Is this one going to work?” asked Juan.
“We’ll soon find out. I just need to figure out the settings and get them dialed into the fire control system.”
“Shouldn’t we ask the captain first?” Juan suggested.
Jack responded, “Son, sometimes it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.”
Durand scanned the dials and gauges clustered around the torpedo tube.
“I think I’ve figured out what we need to do. Lucky we�
��re berthed bow toward the tunnel. Other way around and we’d be screwed. These boats don’t have torpedo tubes aft.”
Durand turned a valve to open the outer torpedo doors.
“Yeah, well ‘lucky’ isn’t a word that’s on the tip of my tongue today.” Sarcasm laced Jack’s response.
But Durand didn’t hear him, he was too busy turning dials and flipping switches on the fire control panel.
“How do you know where to fire it?” asked Jack.
“I’m guessing, but if we can get it running down that tunnel, it will either hit the sub or the walls. Either way, the shockwave should cripple her at best. At worst, she’ll be sunk.”
“Let’s do it.” Jack’s voice was firm and confident.
Durand slammed the heel of his palm on the fire control and with a hiss of compressed air the torpedo was blasted from the tube and into the water where its electric motors propelled it toward the tunnel.
“How long until it explodes?” asked Juan.
“You ask a lot of questions. You know that, right?” Jack patted the rotund man on the back of the head, like he was rubbing a Buddha for good fortune.
Chapter 64
November 9, 2017, 13:00 UTC
Ronne Ice Shelf (Antarctica)
77° 51' 19.79" S -61° 17' 34.20" W
K-561 Kazan
“Captain, incoming Tomahawk. Bearing three-one-five degrees. Range two-zero-zero kilometers.”
“Verify and confirm that,” Captain Vasili Ketov snapped at the radar operator.
They’d been surfaced for the past hour trying to raise Novolazarevskaya. The Russian Antarctic base had yet to respond but given the weather conditions and the pitiful annual budget allocated to the base for equipment maintenance, he wasn’t surprised.
“Confirmed sir, it’s an American Tomahawk. It must have been launched from an American submarine. We’ve had no reports of U.S. Navy ships in the area.”
“Damn them! This is retaliation for shooting at their spy sub.” Ketov sighed. It did no good to berate Yuri. The poor radar operator was only the messenger. It was a shame he hadn’t spotted it earlier, though.
“It’s skimming the waves, Captain, coming in low and fast. That’s why it’s only now showing on the screen.” It was as if Yuri had read Ketov’s thoughts.
“Do we have time to launch a Triumf counter strike?” demanded the captain of the launch officer who was already busy plotting a firing solution on his computer.
“Yes sir, if we launch within the next 3 minutes.”
Ketov needed time to think. He didn’t have time. Should he risk exposing their secret to save the lives of his crew and his submarine?
The S-400 Triumf surface-to-air missile system itself wasn’t a secret. NATO had even given it a reporting name — SA-21 “Growler”. The advanced anti-aircraft missile system had been deployed in Syria and was a major arms export for its Russian manufacturer. Even the Chinese were lining up to buy them by the truckload.
The Americans feared the Triumf and for good reason. It was the deadliest air defense weapon ever devised.
What was a secret, however, was the fact that the Russian Yasen class submarines all carried a number of these missiles amidships in vertical launch cells, alongside their strategic arsenal of Sizzler and Strobile cruise missiles.
The Americans already knew too much about the superiority of the S-400 Triumf system and the stealth of the Yasen class submarines. The fact that Russia’s most dangerous submarine could also launch their most deadly anti-aircraft missiles from below the waves needed to remain top secret, according to the Admirals and Generals back in Moscow, safe in their luxurious offices with their cute blonde secretaries.
“Arm a Triumf and plot a solution to intercept the Tomahawk,” ordered the captain without further discussion. He was a long way from his Russian masters and on his submarine, he made the final decisions.
Chapter 65
November 9, 2017, 13:05 UTC
U-Boot-Bunker (Submarine Pen)
Kriegsmarine Base 211
Ronne Ice Shelf (Antarctica)
77° 51' 19.79" S -61° 17' 34.20" W
U-2532
“It should have hit something by now.” Durand hammered his fist on the side of the torpedo tube.
“Dud?” asked Jack.
“Maybe they all are,” Juan chipped in.
“Thanks for blowing that little ray of sunshine up our ass, Juan. Real helpful, captain positive.” Durand glared at him.
“Well, then, we fire them all.” Jack slapped the next torpedo in line with his hand. “And we keep firing until we either hit something or run out of torpedoes. We’re not quitting!”
Jack was right. Durand and Juan leaped into action and within half a minute they had the next torpedo loaded and ready to fire.
“Fingers crossed it runs hot, straight and normal,” Durand ventured as he fired the second torpedo.
“And it actually blows up, this time,” Juan threw in for good measure.
Chapter 66
November 9, 2017, 13:05 UTC
South Pacific Ocean
Location: Classified
Tomahawk Land Attack Missile – Nuclear Variant (TLAM-N)
Countdown to impact: 0.10 minutes.
Chapter 67
November 9, 2017, 13:05 UTC
Ronne Ice Shelf (Antarctica)
77° 51' 19.79" S -61° 17' 34.20" W
K-561 Kazan
“Fire missile!” Ketov commanded.
The roar of the Triumf launch could be heard throughout the Kazan. To a man, the crew knew it had earned its NATO reporting name. It was indeed a Growler and now their lives were in the hands of one anti-aircraft missile bristling with sensors and guidance systems linked together in one Integrated Air Defense System or IADS.
The Triumf IADS was capable of detecting and painting a target on stealth aircraft that would normally not be visible to conventional radar. It would use its long range scanners to build a picture of the target and its track its flightpath, calculating the most ‘survivable’ route to intercept.
Once it engaged its target, the Russian Triumf was deadly accurate.
It would need to be.
Chapter 68
November 9, 2017, 13:08 UTC
U-Boot-Bunker (Submarine Pen)
Kriegsmarine Base 211
Ronne Ice Shelf (Antarctica)
77° 51' 19.79" S -61° 17' 34.20" W
U-2532
The shockwave slammed the three men into the bulkhead. Hard.
Water jetted from the maze of exposed pipes attached to the torpedo compartment bulkhead and the U-Boat shuddered violently as it smashed into the wet-dock.
Captain Jameson and Dave stumbled through the listing torpedo room hatch, both bleeding profusely from head wounds. Neither man had been prepared for the explosion.
Looking around the compartment, it quickly became obvious that the damage hadn’t been caused by the scuttle charges, which then prompted the question … what did cause the explosion and shock wave?
Jameson wiped the blood from his face and drew a bead on Durand and Coulson.
“What did you do?”
Jack shuffled away from Durand slightly and showed his palms to the captain. “It wasn’t me,” he declared.
Chapter 69
November 9, 2017, 13:09 UTC
South Pacific Ocean
Location: Classified
Tomahawk Land Attack Missile – Nuclear Variant (TLAM-N)
At a combined closing speed of over 1,000 miles per hour, the Tomahawk and the Growler erupted in a fireball that lit up the sky for miles.
The warhead had not yet armed itself and even its titanium casing could protect it from being totally destroyed and vaporized in the mid-air blast.
Chapter 70
November 9, 2017, 13:10 UTC
U-Boot-Bunker (Submarine Pen)
Kriegsmarine Base 211
Ronne Ice Shelf (Antarctica)
77° 51' 19
.79" S -61° 17' 34.20" W
U-2532
Jameson’s face darkened. “You sank a two and a half billion dollar nuclear attack submarine with a Nazi torpedo from the Second World War? Have I got that right?”
“It was his idea, sir.” Durand pointed at Coulson.
“Coulson?”
“I like to think of it as a team decision, sir,” answered Jack.
“Oh, yeah, and you’re such a team player aren’t you, Jack.” A familiar voice echoed behind them.
They all turned to the flood compartment hatch where Sam was crouching to get through.
“Tell me you didn’t blow the shit out of something while I was out of it?” Sam pleaded.
“Sorry Sam. We could have used some help, but we got by,” said Jack.
“What did you say?”
“I said we managed without you,” Jack repeated.
“Not that … you called me Sam.”
“So I did, Sam. So I did.” Jack walked over to Sam and offered his arm for Sam to lean on as he started to lose his balance with the movement of the deck.
“We’re going to end up scuttling before long, so we’d better make a move before the water gets any deeper,” Sam suggested.
“Okay, let’s grab all the blankets, warm clothing and flashlights we can round up and meet in the control room. I doubt they’ve sealed us in as they weren’t expecting us to live long enough to try to get out of here,” Jack said as he guided Sam back through the hatch. “It’s going to be cold and dark up there.”
Ice Fortress (A Jack Coulson Thriller) Page 19