Red Heat

by Nina Bruhns

  Good Lord.

  There was another quick exchange in Russian. Varnas looked at her and made a face. “Phone epidemic. Spread like bad flu.”

  This was crazy. “Whose are they?” she asked.

  “Crew men’s. Expensive, but some buy together. Submarine gone long time from families.”

  “Why would anyone want to sabotage their phones?” she muttered to no one in particular. That really didn’t make any sense. She looked hopefully at the chief engineer. “Can you fix them?”

  He looked to Varnas, who translated. “Sure,” the starpom told her in turn, relaying the engineer’s reply. “He just need time. But not today.” Suddenly the starpom looked nervous. “Praporshchik Selnikov busy today. Must to rehearse.”

  Julie’s brow beetled. He must have used the wrong word, but she came up blank. “Rehearse?”

  Varnas cleared his throat. “For tonight. We cross international date line, and we have”—he searched for the word—“theater?”

  She blinked. “A theater? You’re putting on a play?” A Midsummer Night’s Dream, perhaps, considering the day? In Russian? That should be . . . interesting. But what did a play have to do with the international date line?

  The starpom looked pained. “Yes, well, um, no. Is like ceremony. Really for Arctic Circle crossing. In five days.” He pointed to his nose. “Bluenoses. Everyone first time to do terrible cold tests. You know?”

  She blinked again. “Uh, no.” What the flipping heck was he talking about?

  “Anyway, Praporshchik Selnikov is Lord Ægir, Norse god of sea. Special extra ceremony tonight. We just to answer embarrassed questions. Not too bad.”

  She was so confused.

  “After, everyone eat and drink very much,” Varnas added, smiling. “Lord Ægir also god of beer.”

  Finally, something she understood. Apparently Selnikov got the gist, too. He grinned widely and waggled his bushy eyebrows, lifting an imaginary pint in a toast.

  “Can’t wait,” Julie said dubiously. Talk about being out to sea. “In the meantime, I better get back to work.”

  “Okay.” Starpom Varnas nodded. “I see you later. Oh, and praporshchik ask if you have bath suit.”

  She was halfway through the watertight door, but halted dead in her tracks and turned. “What?”

  He gestured to his torso. “Bikini, yes? For tonight. Maybe will to get wet.” He made a pained face.

  Her jaw dropped. “I, um”—thank you, Jesus—“didn’t bring a bathing suit along.” Was he nuts? Who swam in the Arctic? Besides, her suitcase was now swimming all on its own—heading for the South Seas if it was smart.

  Varnas conferred briefly with the chief. Then, “He say no problem. You borrow shorts from Dr. Lautenen.”

  Obviously Julie was missing something big here. She needed to ask someone who spoke English and was familiar with weird navy rituals what in blazes was going on.

  Someone like Rufus Edwards.

  While she was at it, she’d ask him if he had a satellite phone. And whether or not it still worked.

  But for her own peace of mind, she really hoped it didn’t.

  17

  Nikolai didn’t have to turn; he felt the exact moment when Julie ducked into the torpedo room. The atmosphere changed. Became more charged with electricity. The air itself suddenly smelled different, the distinctive odor of diesel petrol, amines, and fuel oil at once tempered by a subtle hint of her perfume . . . though that part was possibly his imagination. His need for her may be messing with his mind.

  So he didn’t turn. No use wrecking his concentration even further. While the rest of the crew secured the boat to get under way again, Nikolai and Clint Walker were in the midst of putting together a rude surprise for their Chinese stalkers.

  “UUV system checks completed, Skipper,” Walker reported. “All systems go and ready to launch anytime you give the word.”

  Nikolai had requested Walker’s help on this little off-book adventure. The man had reacted to his initial explanation first with hiked brows, then with a slow grin. Apparently at heart they were cut from the same cloth. Troublemakers to the core.

  They’d been collaborating with Master Chief Edwards on sonar, the three of them speaking in rapid English so none of Nikolai’s crew would be involved if he was called on the carpet by his superiors. Not that he saw that as a real possibility. He seriously doubted the Chinese commander would lodge a complaint. Oh, wait. The 093 Shang class wasn’t even here in the Pacific. No problem, then, right?

  “Excellent,” Nikolai responded. “Now all we need is to figure out what to blast her with.”

  Back at the bulkhead there was a soft gasp and he heard Julie’s footsteps hurry toward them. “You are surely not planning to shoot at the Chinese sub, are you?” She sounded aghast.

  Nikolai finally turned to face her. Her reluctance to be there, to meet his eyes, was also apparent. He wondered idly why she’d come. Obviously she hadn’t expected to see him.

  “Submarines don’t shoot,” he corrected. “We use torpedoes.”

  When Walker realized Nikolai was talking to someone else, he turned in his console chair and lifted his headset from his ears. “Here to watch the fun, Miz Severin?” he drawled.

  “What are you two up to?” she asked, radiating suspicion, especially when neither of them looked the least bit guilty.

  “No good, of course,” Nikolai answered, and Walker gave a low, villainous chuckle.

  She scanned the room, taking in the console all lit up and two weps—weapons—techs manning the tubes where the torpedo-shaped UUVs sat recharging their batteries. It had taken a good forty-five minutes to hurriedly offload the morning’s science samples from one of them and ready it for another sortie after the last research run. But the delay didn’t matter. The activity topside was now finished and the scientists had hauled the last of their equipment back inside. Ostrov was ready to fire up as soon as Nikolai and Walker’s mission of mischief had been implemented.

  He just hoped the 093 would get the message and take off to harass some other unlucky sub commander. He had enough to deal with from all the other shit raining down on him at the moment.

  “If not an outright attack, then . . . ,” Julie ventured as she completed her suspicious scan of their preparations. He could practically hear the cogs turning in her head. “You’re going to send a UUV out there and what? Make the Chinese sub think it’s . . . an aircraft carrier or something? About to mow them down?”

  She was one sharp lady, he’d give her that.

  “Not a bad idea,” he said, his grin widening as her eyes did likewise. “So you know about the UUV’s simulator.”

  A simulator was a broadcast device used to emit decoy sounds for various purposes, for instance to trick the enemy’s sonar into thinking the UUV was a bigger, more threatening contact, or to lead a hot torpedo away from the home sub.

  In this case the emitted noise would be aimed at the Chinese sub, and hopefully it would annoy them enough to leave.

  “Yes,” she said. “I know about simulators. And guess what? I’ll bet the Chinese do, too.”

  “Oh, we’re not trying to fool them or anything,” Nikolai said. “We just thought they might be bored over there following us around. So we’re putting together a little serenade for their amusement.”

  She looked even more skeptical.

  “I’ll need some appropriate sounds to upload,” Walker interjected with a smirk. “I wasn’t expecting to run nonscientific sorties, so there are no ship mechanicals or standard countermeasures loaded into the UUV’s simulator. And definitely no Britney Spears.” His mouth twisted wryly. “Nothing but biologicals.”

  “Whales are not nearly irritating enough,” Nikolai said. “Use our sonar library. Ask Gavrikov to pick out something really loud and obnoxious.”

  “Edwards offered us his private collection,” Walker said.

  Nikolai returned an evil smile. “And I happen to know our chief engineer has an iPod. He’s
particularly fond of Tchaikovsky and Ukrainian balalaika music.”

  Walker winced. “Perfect. I’ll have the quartermaster run him down.”

  Julie was listening to their exchange with parted lips. “What exactly are you hoping to accomplish with this adolescent stunt?” she asked incredulously.

  Nikolai’s frustration peaked. “Annoy the crap out of them. With any luck, enough to get them off our ass for good. I don’t like being stalked.”

  “Seriously? You think this will work?” She darted a glance at Walker, then gave Nikolai a meaningful look. “All things considered?”

  By which she meant their stolen technology being on board Ostrov, no doubt.

  “Got any other suggestions? I’m all ears,” he said flatly.

  He understood her point, however, and he didn’t necessarily disagree. If they were being followed because the Chinese wanted back the SD card, the 093 commander was unlikely to let Ostrov out of his sight for long.

  “Christ,” Walker said, his expression falling into disgust, all amusement gone in an instant. “You did tell him.”

  Shock flashed through Nikolai at the implication of Walker’s muttered statement. Walker also knew about her mission. He glanced at Julie, wondering if he should feel betrayed. A lightbulb went off in his mind. It was pretty obvious who had been her source of information on his FSB background.

  But how had Walker gotten hold of that intel? If the former U.S. Navy man was the one who’d told her, it stood to reason he must be some flavor of intelligence operative himself. Which meant he must also be aboard Ostrov for the purpose of espionage.

  Good God, the boat was crawling with spies!

  Fat lot of good Nikolai’s own connections were doing him—the FSB was clearly underinformed. Either that, or they were playing him. Neither would be a huge shock.

  But what did shock Nikolai was that Julie hadn’t told him about Walker. Okay. He did feel betrayed.

  Angrily, he flayed her with an accusing look. “What the hell is going on?”

  She shook her head, looking genuinely chagrined. “Ask him, not me. I didn’t tell him anything. And I have no idea who he works for.”

  Nikolai rounded on the other man. “I think you’d better start talking, Walker. And fast.”

  Walker’s gaze shifted between them. He sighed. “Look. It doesn’t matter who any of us works for, or even if we’re on different sides. If I’m reading this situation right, for now we all have the same goal. To make sure they”—Walker stabbed a finger beyond the hull in the direction of the Chinese 093—“don’t get their hands on anything, or anyone, aboard Ostrov. Agreed?”

  Nikolai clenched his jaw. The man was being too reasonable by half. He was up to something. “How do we know we can trust you?” Nikolai asked tightly.

  Walker gave a low laugh. “Isn’t that my line?” He flicked a look at Julie then back to Nikolai. “Hell, I’m the American here. Just because you’re willing to sleep with the opposition doesn’t mean you won’t betray her when push comes to shove.”

  Nikolai saw red. “Me? What about her? It works both ways, my friend,” he snapped before thinking.

  He heard Julie suck in a breath and he shot out a hand to grasp her arm before she could vault away from him. Хуйня. That wasn’t what he’d meant to say.

  He glared furiously at Walker. “I’m trying to protect Julie. What are you doing besides creating suspicion?”

  “Hey, I’m standing right here,” she ground out, jerking her arm back from him. “And I don’t need protection from either of you. I can take care of myself!” She banded her arms over her abdomen.

  Walker observed them both without expression. “Okay. How about we just say we all have our secrets, and that for now we choose to trust each other, more or less, against a common enemy. And leave it at that.”

  Nikolai slashed his fingers through his hair. And realized he had no right to be angry with Julie for Walker’s actions. At least Walker was being relatively up-front about having an agenda. Plus he was an official member of the expedition team, the only UUV pilot on board. Not someone Nikolai could kick off the boat even if he wanted to and there were a way to do so. And as much as Nikolai hated to admit it, what Walker had suggested was probably their best option.

  He was about to agree to the truce when Julie asked, “Do you have a satellite phone, Mr. Walker?” The other man nodded, and she asked, “Can I borrow it?”

  Walker said, “Sure, but it won’t do you much good.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it doesn’t work,” he said, his voice gruff. “Someone gutted the insides. Any guess as to who?” He narrowed a glance at Nikolai.

  Julie’s breath eased out while Nikolai’s caught at the not-so-veiled accusation. He took an angry step forward.

  “If you find out, let me know. He got mine, too,” she said, grabbing his wrist to hold him back. “Okay, Mr. Walker. I’ll go along with your alliance. For now. But that doesn’t mean I trust you.”

  Walker gave another wry laugh. “Whatever you say, rookie. Captain Romanov?”

  Nikolai ground his teeth. “Fine. I’m in. Now, any chance we can get on with the task at hand? Sometime today?”

  “Aye, Skipper,” Walker said and turned back to his console. He slid his headset over his ears again and started to hail Edwards, who’d been standing by on the circuit. “Give me fifteen minutes to upload the sound signatures and we’re good to go.”

  Nikolai stalked after Julie to wait over at the far side of the compartment, away from the others. She was holding her small laptop folded in her arms across her midriff as she leaned against the bulkhead.

  “When did you talk to Walker about me?” he asked angrily before she could turn aside and ignore him.

  “At breakfast,” she said, her eyes roaming the jumble of pipes and torpedo tubes all around them. “But he did most of the talking. He guessed who I work for and warned me about sleeping with you.”

  “How thoughtful,” Nikolai drawled.

  “He thought I was trying to ‘work’ you,” she said with disgust.

  Smart man. So Walker had tried to work her instead. Just in a different way. “And . . . ?” Nikolai almost didn’t want to know.

  She finally looked at him. “And I told him I had sex with you because I find you attractive. No other reason.”

  His anger eased a bit. The attraction was definitely mutual. But so much more than mere attraction—at least on his part. Still, he wondered if she was telling the whole truth.

  Did it matter?

  Yeah, he realized. It did.

  But that was a whole different conversation.

  “Does he know about the SD card?”

  “I don’t know. I certainly didn’t say anything, and he didn’t mention it specifically. But he knows I’m looking for something.”

  “You didn’t find it this morning?” Nikolai asked pointedly.

  She shook her head. “I get the feeling I could search for a year and still not find it.” She sounded disheartened.

  “What will we do if we don’t find it?” he asked, changing the pronoun to remind her he was also in the equation. And not just for sex.

  She firmed her jaw. “That,” she said, “is not an option.”

  He thought about the distinct possibility that they wouldn’t find the hidden data card before the expedition was over. If he personally didn’t have it in his possession by then, he was sure Cherenkov and his FSB minions were poised and ready to seize Ostrov the minute she returned to Rybachiy, and tear her apart if they had to.

  Whereupon, an unpleasant thought crept through Nikolai’s mind. Unless the Chinese did it first.

  Чёрт возьми. Surely that wasn’t why the nuclear sub was tailing them . . . because the Chinese were planning to retrieve their stolen technology the old-fashioned way—by force? He’d never heard of one submarine hijacking another, but there was a first time for everything.

  The idea raised the hair on the back o
f his neck.

  Walker interrupted his harrowing thoughts. “Skipper,” he called, looking over from his chair at the console monitor, “should I also upload some random mechanicals and standard countermeasures to the UUV?”

  Nikolai shook off his prickling unease. The idea that they would be attacked outright was too outrageous. He was just being paranoid. “Yeah,” he answered Walker. “Good idea. You never know what might come in handy.”

  “Will do. Almost there.”

  Julie made an impatient sound, reminding him of her presence. “I still can’t believe you’re doing this,” she muttered. “You can’t possibly think it’ll have any real effect.”

  “But it will,” Nikolai refuted. Hoping like hell he was right. “If only a psychological one. I’m sending them a message.”

  “Don’t tread on me,” she murmured.

  “Exactly.” He met her frown with a tentative smile. “See? You and I think much alike, dorogaya.”

  She sent him a withering look. He waved a hand toward the torpedo tube where the weps techs had finished preparing the fully loaded UUV. “Staying for the launch?”

  She hesitated only briefly before nodding. “Yeah. Since I missed the ones this morning. I’d like to see how it’s done.” She unbanded her arms and lifted her laptop. “I assume I can’t write about this ridiculous auditory assault in my next article?”

  Nikolai nearly choked. “Nyet. Please don’t.”

  Just then, a young rating stuck his head through the watertight door and said, “Kapitan, Starshina Borovsky would like permission to pull certain members of the crew from their duties as soon as we’re under way. He said you would know why, sir.”

  Nikolai glanced at his watch. They must be getting ready for the festivities. He gave his permission and told the rating to have the OOD substitute men on the watch accordingly. Then he switched back to English and said to Julie, “Besides, I have just been reminded there will be more interesting things for you to write about later this evening.”