Atlantis: Bermuda Triangle a-2

by Robert Doherty

  McCallum took another breath, his hands gripping the ladder tightly. The air was laced with carbon dioxide. He figured he had another minute before he blacked out and slipped under the water. McCallum kept his mouth shut, trying to hold the air in his lungs as long as possible before letting it out. Slowly he exhaled and took another slow, deep breath, feeling the pain of his broken ribs, then clamping his mouth shut.

  His ears hurt. McCallum blinked. The sail was pressurizing. The water level began going down and he quickly took several shallow breaths of the fresh oxygen being pumped into the sail.

  Before the water was completely clear, the bottom hatch clanged open, letting a splash of water into the operations center. Barrington stuck his head in, but was knocked out of the way as McCallum slid down the ladder, ignoring the sting of pain from his broken ribs.

  “Status?” McCallum demanded, still trying to get his oxygen level back up.

  “We have no steerage, no dive control,” Barrington confirmed McCallum’s worst fears. “We’re in a steady dive at four hundred feet per minute. Current depth-” Barrington turned toward the Chief Petty Officer who was in charge of diving.

  “Eight hundred feet and still steady down at four-oh-oh feet per minute,” the Chief reported.

  “All controls have been overridden from the combat systems mainframe,” Barrington continued.

  “Bateman’s gotten control of the CSM,” McCallum said.

  Barrington nodded. “Appears so, sir. He’s nowhere else on the ship and we cannot gain access to the CSM room. No contact with the duty crew in there and the hatch is locked from the inside.”

  “You blew the sail,” McCallum said. “You must have been able to override-”

  Barrington was shaking his head, cutting the captain off. “We disconnected computer control and manually diverted emergency back-up from the tanks next to us. But we won’t be able to do all the tanks quickly enough to stop our dive. I’ve got men trying to manually get to all the tanks but they’ll never do it in time.

  “What about the bow plane?” McCallum asked.

  “Still trying to disconnect computer control,” Barrington reported. “Chief says it’ll take them another five minutes to disconnect and then a minute or two to reorient the planes manually. We don’t have the time, sir.”

  “Sixteen hundred feet and still steady down at four-oh-oh feet per minute,” the Dive Chief announced.

  McCallum knew that the Navy’s unclassified dive rating for the Seawolf was eight hundred feet but every naval expert knew that was a joke. Jane’s Fighting Ships, the standard handbook for ships, rated the boat at being able to dive to two thousand. The Electric Boat Division at Groton had assured the Navy that Seawolf could do three thousand feet safely. Nobody knew exactly how far the ship could go because no one dared test it beyond three thousand. McCallum had taken Seawolf down to two thousand, eight hundred during the shake-out cruise, the maximum safety regulations allowed him.

  “Everything’s set to keep us diving?” McCallum asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  McCallum ran options through his mind, one after the other. “He couldn’t have reprogrammed the entire system.”

  “We can’t blow ballast and we can’t control the bow planes,” Barrington said. “That’s enough to put us through max depth in-” the XO checked the stopwatch that hung around his neck- “just under four minutes.”

  “OK, we do what he won’t have planned for and adjusted the computer for.” McCallum stepped out of the puddle of water that had formed under his feet. “Is the combat systems compartment secure?”

  “We can’t get in, sir,” Barrington said. “All hatches are secure. We could try to burn through but that would take a good half-hour.”

  McCallum nodded. “All right. Dive Chief, flood the CSM compartment.”

  A look of confusion, followed by comprehension crossed the Chief’s face. “Aye, aye, sir.”

  * * *

  Bateman looked up blankly as a spray of water burst out of a pipe in the ceiling, followed by several others that increased in flow until a torrent of water poured into the compartment.

  He stared at the rising water, then pulled his gun out, put it against the side of his head directly over the small bump behind his right ear, and pulled the trigger. Brains and blood splattered across the room to be immediately washed away by the surging water.

  Sparks flew as the salt water entered the mainframe computer and shorted out the workings.

  * * *

  Lights flashed in the operations center, then the emergency back-up power came on, bathing the room in a red glow.

  “All systems controlled by the computer are down,” Barrington reported.

  “Do we have manual control?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Twenty-eight hundred feet and still steady down at four-oh-oh feet per minute,” the Dive Chief announced.

  McCallum barked out orders. “Chief dive planes full up. Blow all ballast manually. Engine room full reverse.”

  McCallum didn’t need the dive chief’s verbal report. He could clearly see the red digital display that showed the submarine’s current depth. They clicked through 3,000 as the crew raced to do manually what they normally used their computer assisted controls. In the forward part of the ship, the computer control on the dive planes had released and men struggled to turn the large fins via a crankshaft.

  “Gentlemen, we have a new dive record for the Seawolf class submarine,” McCallum announced.

  “Thirty-one hundred feet and dive rate slowing through three-oh-oh feet per minute,” the Dive Chief reported.

  McCallum looked over his executive officer. “Let’s hope the boys at the Electric Boat Company weren’t sleeping on the job.”

  “Thirty-two hundred and dive rate slowing through one-five-oh feet per minute.”

  Barrington nodded. “We’re going to-”

  The entire ship suddenly vibrated like a guitar string pulled too tight, cutting off whatever the XO was going to say.

  McCallum’s eyes were riveted on the dive meter. The numbers were moving less slowly, but the submarine was still going down. Thirty-three hundred feet and the sound was getting louder. McCallum could feel the fear coming off everyone in the operations center like a wave of penetrating cold air that settled in the spine and wrapped around the stomach. It was a moment every submariner had had nightmares about and prayed they’d never face.

  “Trim?” McCallum asked.

  “Nose down six degrees and leveling,” Barrington answered. “We’re having to adjust for the flooded CSM.”

  Given that the Seawolf was 353 feet long, that meant the nose was a bit deeper than the rest of the ship. McCallum’s eyes shifted forward to the hatch in the front of the operations center.

  He knew if anything gave, it should come from that direction. And if anything gave, everything inside would give. The interior hatches would pop like paper against a compression jack all the way through the ship. It would all be over in a couple of seconds.

  “Level,” the Dive Chief announced to a hushed audience. “Dive rate zero.”

  McCallum looked at the gauge. 3,563.

  “Take her up,” McCallum ordered. “Slowly. Dive Chief, please note depth for the record.”

  * * *

  Dane, Sin Fen, Ariana and DeAngelo listened to the report from Foreman inside the communications sphere. A tsunami hitting Puerto Rico, the nuclear explosion at Groton and the near-sinking of the Seawolf, the infiltration of the SOSUS system and the increase in size of the gates- the litany was shocking.

  Dane leaned back, the only noise in the sphere after Foreman’s fell silent, the sound of the heater blowing hot air. He felt tired and confused. The images from Sin Fen’s mind disturbed him as much as the news Foreman had relayed.

  “The Shadow is paving the way for an all out attack,” Sin Fen broke the silence.

  “That’s what Conners at the NSA thinks and it certainly appears that way,” Foreman ag
reed. “Groton and the Seawolf were both attempts to cripple our underwater warfare capability. The tsunami was simply a side-effect.”

  Dane stirred. “‘Side-effect?’ Thousands dead and you call it a side-effect.”

  “Hundreds are dead at Groton,” Foreman snapped. “Six nuclear submarines worth over a two and a half billion dollars destroyed. We’re still trying to figure out how much radiation escaped the pen and how many people will be affected by the fallout. That’s on top of the radiation from the nuke strikes in the Atlantic. I’m calling the tsunami a side-effect because it was a result of the force that came out of the triangle and attempted to destroy you. Save your pontificating for someone else.”

  “I’m not pontificating,” Dane shot back. “I’m just trying to keep some perspective on the stakes involved rather than the cost. There’s a difference you know!”

  For a few seconds only the sound of the heater-blower filled the communications sphere.

  “And SOSUS?” Ariana asked. “Is it just a ploy or is the Shadow trying to do underwater what we stopped them from doing through the atmosphere?”

  “There’s no radioactivity detected yet,” Foreman said. “Just some electro-magnetic abnormalities. Hell, they might even be using SOSUS like we are- to keep track of what’s going on underwater.”

  “What are you going to do?” Dane asked.

  “The prudent thing would be to shut SOSUS down,” Foreman said, “but I think Conners is right- we should hold off on that and keep an eye on the gates.”

  “Let me ask you something,” Dane said. “You’re talking about the possibility you could be getting set up on the SOSUS network. We’re at this spot because of the map etched on the Scorpion’s sail. Now it looks like the sub was booby-trapped by the Shadow. Maybe this was a trap? Like the Greeks putting a sign on the Trojan Horse? Not only did we take the Horse in, we followed the directions on the side of it.”

  “I don’t think so,” Sin Fen said. “I do not believe the writing and map on the submarine was from the Shadow. Remember there are two sides inside the Triangle. Both could have used the Scorpion.”

  Dane laughed at the absurdity as he had a moment of clarity. “The Seawolf was keeping tabs on us too, wasn’t it, Foreman? If this was some sort of trap or double-cross you were ready to blow us out of the water.” Dane didn’t need an answer. He knew it was true. But he also knew’ that what Sin Fen said was true- the writing on the side of the Scorpion had not been a trap. A human hand, a free human hand, had written that.

  “You said Captain Bateman from the Scorpion was the person who tried to sink the Seawolf,” Dane said. “What about the rest of the crew of the Scorpion?”

  “They all died in the explosion at Groton,” Foreman said. “Bateman died on board the Seawolf.”

  “But that means the Shadow can manipulate people,” Dane noted. “That’s something new.”

  “Something new as far as we know,” Foreman agreed.

  “Why does it seem like every time we find out something new about the gates and the Shadow, we learn how little we actually know?” Dane asked.

  “How did the Shadow get the Scorpion’s reactor to go critical?” Ariana asked.

  “Before the explosion the video feed from the team that went into the Scorpion’s reactor showed a cylindrical object with golden beams emanating out of it,” Foreman said.

  “Like the beam that went into the mainframe computer on board our plane in Cambodia?” Ariana asked.

  “Right,” Foreman said. “The military is calling what’s just happened a reconnaissance in force- the Shadow is checking out the opposition before making its main strike. And because the Shadow focused on our underwater capability, particularly near the Bermuda Triangle, and because that gate is the only one that has increased in size, we have to assume that’s where the attack is coming from.”

  “Or directed,” Ariana said.

  “There’s no target of strategic significance in that area,” Foreman said.

  “I’m not talking about a target here,” Ariana clarified. “I’m talking about the attack. Look what happened to Puerto Rico as the result of the tsunami. The Mid-Atlantic Ridge is not too far away from here. If the Shadow focuses energy into that rift between the tectonic plates, God knows what havoc they could reek. It would make the wave that hit Puerto Rico look like a splash in a puddle. They could easily take out the eastern seaboard of the United States and a large part of Europe. And if they’re coordinating this attack through other gates as appears to be-” Ariana paused, letting the other’s figure it out for themselves.

  “The whiz kids here have done projections on the most advanced computers they have,” Foreman said. “Wargaming what could happen if the Shadow fires all twenty-three of the Tridents left from the Wyoming. Given that the Trident’s range is about four thousand miles, they can cover a large part of the Atlantic along the mid-ocean ridge.

  “There’s a lot of variables- ocean depth, crust depth over the magna between the tectonic plates- but with each warhead exploding at about a hundred and twenty kilotons, the computer says that at the very least the effect will be numerous volcanoes boiling up along with earthquakes on a magnitude we have never experienced in modern history. As you’ve noted, the resulting tsunamis will devastate the east coast of the United States and most of western Europe.

  “That’s at a minimum,” Foreman continued. “There is also the possibility that there could be a crustal displacement of the tectonic plates. Since we’re not even sure exactly how the tectonic plates are moved, we’re not sure of the forces involved, but if those forces from inside the earth are channeled by the explosions, God knows what could happen.”

  “And what if they use the other nuclear weapons they’ve accumulated over the years?” Ariana asked. “What if they also launch assaults along the Pacific Rim out of the Devil’s Sea gate? The Mediterranean from a nearby gate? The Red Sea?”

  “I’m having them wargame that worst-case scenario,” Foreman said.

  “We don’t need a computer simulation,” Sin Fen said. “If the Shadow launches such an assault, you can be assured they know what they are doing. It will be the end of mankind. The entire surface of the planet will change. Continents will be moved much as Antarctica which most likely was Atlantis, was moved from the middle of the Atlantic to the South Pole.”

  Dane broke the silence that followed that statement. “So we’re back to where we’re at the start of this. We need to find out what’s below us. I think the gate coming this way lets us know it’s important.” He stood up. “We’re wasting time sitting around talking about it. Let’s get going.”

  Chapter 18

  THE PAST

  999 AD

  “Have you ever heard of a place called Thule?” Tam Nok asked. She had the metal plate out and was hunched over it, her finger tracing the lines, her lips moving as she read to herself.

  Ragnarok lowered his hand which he’d been using to block the sun so he could scan the surrounding terrain. They were hiding in a streambed, bushes surrounding them and large trees towering overhead. Stonehenge was many miles behind them and Ragnarok knew they would reach the shore early this evening once they began walking again. He was tempted to continue during the daylight but the alarm over the dead patrol must have been raised by now and he knew they would not last long against a unit of the Saxon King’s army.

  Ragnarok could almost smell the sea over the horizon. He longed for the thunder of the waves on shore and the sight of his high-prowed ship pulled up on the beach waiting for them. Dusk was only about an hour away and then they could move.

  “I have heard of Thule,” Ragnarok acknowledged, sitting back down on the dirt embankment, then leaning back, hands behind his head. “To the north, beyond the ice and snow and fire. Or so the old ones say.”

  “What fire?” Tam Nok asked.

  “It is said fire comes out of the ocean as one approaches Thule,” Ragnarok said. “I have seen such fire once when sailing along
the coast of Iceland.”

  “There are strange writings here,” she indicated the metal map. “Some of them revolve around Thule.”

  He closed his eyes, remembering his mother’s words. “Fire and ice, the beginning of all things.”

  “Tell me the story of the beginning,” Tam Nok asked.

  “You knew of the Valkyries,” Ragnarok opened his eyes and looked at her. “You called yourself a Disir. If you know those things, you know of the creation and the stories of the Gods.”

  Tam Nok shook her head. “I knew of those thing because you knew of them.”

  Ragnarok frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I cannot explain it right now. Please, tell me the Viking legends of the beginning.”

  Ragnarok remembered his mother, the family gathered around the fire in the end of their lodge, the wind howling outside. Her voice, low and soothing as she told the stories of the gods and goddesses. He felt a pang for what he had lost and for the first time he didn’t smother that feeling with a surge of anger and desire for revenge. It was simply there, a heavy weight on his chest.

  “The world was dark and there was no order. No rule. No goodness. In the center of the world was a chasm, so large one could not see the bottom. If you threw a stone off, you never heard it hit, so deep was this split in the Earth called Ginnungagap.

  “To the north of Ginnungagap is the kingdom of Niflheim, a dark world always covered in the fog. This is where Thule is also located. To the south of Ginnungagap is the world of fire and constant light, called Muspellsheim. Here lived Surtr, the flame giant whose only duty was to protect his land from those from Thule.

  “But Surtr became bored as he was alone in Muspellsheim. He swung his mighty flame sword to practice and produced much steam, which rose toward Ginnungagap and froze in strange shapes. From that ice came two other creatures- Ymir, the first of the giants and Audhumbia, a large cow.”