‘That doesn’t leave us much time to evacuate the ship. We’ll have to halt the rescue of the remaining crew from the submarine and get the hell out.’
‘Unfortunately, it’s not as simple as that,’ Sean replied. ‘Tell him, Alexei.’
Khostov cleared his throat. ‘When the uranium melts, it will burn right through the ship and through the hull. When it meets the seawater there will be a huge eruption as the molten uranium reacts. Enormous quantities of radioactive steam and debris will explode into the sky. The radioactive material will be carried by the winds all over the Arctic. A large part of the Arctic, the people and the wildlife they depend on, will become irradiated for a long stretch.’
Pierce stared at Khostov. ‘You’re shitting me.’
‘I was brought in to try and stop this happening.’ Khostov glanced helplessly towards the two American engineers. ‘I tried my best, but the odds were against me all along.’
‘What about this third safety system you were talking about,’ asked Sean.
Khostov shook his head. ‘We inspected it before the seals went. In theory, it’s still possible to start the process, but it would take longer than we’ve got to implement it.’
‘Even with the three of you working on it together?’
Khostov avoided making eye contact. ‘Even with the three of us. It’s too complicated, and we don’t have enough time.’
‘Then we must leave,’ said Pierce emphatically.
‘You leave,’ replied Khostov firmly. ‘I’ll stay.’
‘So your remains can be spread over the top of the world?’
‘I’ll continue on the cadmium-nitrate backup. It’s just possible I could get enough into the reactor to stop it from burning through the containment vessel.’
‘You have to be shitting.’
Sean thought Pierce’s vocabulary was limited, but he certainly knew how he felt. Sean held up his hand. ‘Wait. We’re not thinking straight about this. What about you two gentlemen – do you have any other ideas?’
The engineers eyed one another, then turned back to Sean. The leader responded. ‘No, there isn’t anything else. Khostov’s right, a blast is inevitable.’
Now it was Sean’s turn to use a ripe phrase. ‘Bollocks. There must be a way to put it off. Think!’
Silence descended on the group.
They waited a minute, but no-one offered a solution. ‘OK. If we can’t stop an explosion happening, is there something we can do to minimise the effect?’
‘Like what?’ asked Pierce.
‘Like - I don’t know.’ Sean paused. ‘Suppose we scuttle the ship. What do you think, Alexei?’
‘If the core made contact with the seawater on the ocean floor, the explosion would be better contained than on the surface. The depth of the sea bottom is what?’
They gazed expectantly at the captain.
‘About 500 metres,’ Grigori responded.
‘So the pressure on the seafloor would be around… 50 atmospheres. That’s fifty times the compression than at the surface - it might work!’
‘Even so, we would be annihilating the USS Montana,’ said Pierce.
‘Nearly everyone has been taken off,’ answered the lead engineer. ‘If we don’t do anything, they would die anyway.’
‘True. Right Captain.’ Pierce regarded Captain Grigori. How do we scuttle her?’
Grigori looked startled. ‘Are you sure that’s such a good idea? She’s the first of her line!’
Pierce fixed Grigori with a penetrating stare. ‘Do you really want to remain here when the core makes contact with the seawater?’
Grigori’s shoulders slumped. ‘There are scuttle valves at eight points around the ship. You would need to turn on five of them to make sure she went down quickly.’
‘How long would it take to sink it?’
Grigori shrugged. ‘It takes a while to open them. Depending on how many we open, maybe six to ten hours.’
Major Pierce gawked at him. ‘Are you shitting me? We’ve only got two hours left!’
At the American base, the radar operator spotted movement on the scope. ‘Incoming 200 nautical miles!’
‘Course and speed?’
‘950 km per hr. Russian warplanes are heading straight for us. ETA 23 minutes.’
‘Numbers?’
‘Difficult to say sir, with all the clutter from the storm. I’d guess a squadron at least.’
‘Right, get the interpreter here at the double. I want to speak to these boys before they arrive. And order the squadron up to meet them. Fingers off triggers until I say.’
The commander thumped the desk. Why was this happening, just as they were about to wrap things up? Maybe he could delay them with some smooth talk.
‘Interpreter, contact the leader of the flight. Let him know that we are packing up to leave. We’ll be gone in 30 minutes.’
The man threw him a sharp look. No-one was going to believe that.
‘Just do it!’
‘Sir!’
They waited a minute for a response. The commander flipped the speakers on, so they could all listen in. The lead pilot responded in English.
‘Storm flight to base. The deadline has expired. We don’t understand how you expect to be gone in 30 minutes.’
‘Tell him sixty minutes.’
‘Storm flight to base. You already lied, and you are lying again.’
They could hear the click as the leader ended the conversation.
‘Bloody hell! Try them again, and give me the mike.
‘Base to storm flight. We are on a peaceful operation to rescue the crew of our submarine. I repeat we are here on a peaceful operation.’
They listened, but there was no response.
The flight leader of storm flight clicked the intercom to broadcast to the rest of his squadron. ‘No further communication with the base, unless it is through me. We do not want the Americans to realise we have one hand tied behind our backs!’ The leader was referring to orders handed down by Dimitry Kamenev, the First Deputy Chief of the Presidential Administration; under no circumstances were they to make the first move. ‘Let the Americans think we are about to attack!’
‘Commander!’ It was the second radio operator. ‘Sentinel squadron want to know how much force they should employ to interdict Storm Flight.’
‘Their orders were clear. They are to protect and defend. Use any necessary force to comply.’
The commander turned back to the microphone. ‘Base to storm flight. I am recording this conversation. I am asking you to turn around. Under no circumstances should you attack our base or our aircraft. The base is home to the crew of USS Montana who have just been rescued from their disabled submarine. Any attack by you will harm non-combatants.’
Silence.
‘Base to Storm Flight. I repeat we have non-combatants on the base. Do not attack. We have comprehensive video of the base. Any action you make will be filmed. This conversation is also being recorded. Do not attack!’
‘Commander. Sentinel squadron are on an interception course. They report that Storm Flight has split, one section going north, the other south. Looks like they are attempting to circle the base.’
The commander thought for a moment. ‘No missiles fired?’
‘No sir.’
‘Right. Pull back Sentinel. They are to resume duties to protect and defend. But be prepared!’
The commander clicked the button on the microphone. ‘Base camp to Storm Flight. You should be aware icebreaker LK-80’s nuclear reactor is no longer stable. Any interference with LK-80 will not only halt the rescue process, but may also create a nuclear incident. I repeat, a nuclear incident. This conversation is being recorded. Please acknowledge.’
Silence.
‘Wait!’ Sean dashed to the door and stood outside, gazing into the sky.
‘You hear that!’
Most of the party regarded him in puzzlement, but Major Pierce was already nodding in agreement. He knew what
Sean was thinking.
‘Look up there!’ Sean pointed to the American warplanes, hurtling high above them. ‘Just a few well aimed bombs from them would sink the ship a lot faster than we ever could.’ He glanced at the Captain for confirmation, but Grigori’s face held a horrified expression.
‘We need a radio. Grigori - a radio!’ Sean grabbed him. ‘Show us where!’
‘There’s one on the bridge,’ said Pierce.
‘Let’s go.’
They raced up the companionway and burst through the doors. Pierce pointed to the radio room behind, and they ran through. The set looked like it had been salvaged from a tanker decades ago, but it still worked.
‘What frequency do we contact them on?’ asked Sean.
‘We don’t. We have to communicate with base, and they issue the instructions.’
‘OK.’
Pierce set the frequency, and flicked the microphone switch. ‘LK-80 to base. Major Pierce here. Acknowledge immediately. This is urgent. Respond immediately.’ There were several seconds of static before they caught a faint voice.
‘Base to LK-80. What is the issue?’
Pierce briefed the base about the reactor meltdown and the consequences if the resultant explosion occurred on the surface. ‘We need to sink the ship urgently. A detonation on the seabed will be better contained. Divert two of your aircraft to bomb the ship!’
A burst of static caused the response to be lost.
‘Say again base, I’m losing you.’
‘Ah, LK-80 we have our hands full here. We’ve been joined by Russian fighters.’
Major Pierce squinted at Sean. ‘At times like this I wish I wasn’t in the military.’ He turned to the mike. ‘Write this down, this is important. Bombers are to avoid mid-ships. Otherwise you will make the problem worse.’
‘Base to LK-80, please say again. Reception is very bad.’
Pierce repeated the instructions. ‘Put two aircraft up from reserve. We need time to stop the rescue module and clear the ship.’
‘About 30 minutes?’ He checked Sean’s reaction.
Sean nodded agreement.
‘LK-80 to base. Commence bombing run at 13:37 precisely. Please acknowledge.’
The sound of static filled the room.
President Donahue and President Duskin entered the ante-room at the pre-arranged time, some fifteen minutes before the meeting with the British Prime Minister was due.
‘Have you any idea what Ashdown wants from us, Pavla?’
‘No, none. But he is cunning and crafty. I feel he has something more up his sleeve that he is not telling us.’
‘He is also extremely well informed. I imagine he’ll want the air crews from your two bombers released.’
‘Why would he want that?’
President Donahue shrugged. ‘I think he wants to use the incident as a lever of some kind.’
‘Did you know about the deception using fake GPS signals?’
Donahue paused before replying. ‘No, I didn’t.’
‘You looked surprised when Ashdown mentioned it. I guessed you didn’t.’
‘We have a few more minutes.’ President Donahue gestured to a chair and they both sat. He chose his next words carefully. ‘Khostov made some claims about corruption you had a hand in. Were they true?’
‘No.’ The denial was flat and immediate, brooking no argument.
‘I see.’
‘Tell me Robert, is this all a big bluff?’
Donahue pretended to consider the question, but felt it was uttered simply to divert attention from his previous query. He shrugged. ‘Who knows? But if it is a bluff, right now Ashdown holds the upper hand.’
‘We are both being forced to play his game, and we don’t understand what the stakes are.’
‘Doesn’t it strike you as odd that the PM is holding us to account? I mean, it’s not like his country is in the same league as ours.’
‘You know Robert, there is an old Russian saying: a bad peace is better than a good quarrel.’
President Donahue smiled. ‘That reminds me of an old Yiddish phrase: a bad peace is better than a good war.’
‘Well I suppose we should get down to business,’ Duskin said, indicating a change of mood. ‘Why did you occupy our vessel?’
‘To rescue the sailors trapped on the bottom of the sea,’ replied Donahue testily. ‘It was our only option. Remember the incident was first caused by your ship ramming our submarine.’
‘Robert. This was not a deliberate sinking, but an accident. And you snubbed our offer of a rescue. To make matters worse your military established a camp nearby and are patrolling the area with war planes.’ President’s Duskin’s voice rose. ‘Why should we take this lying down?’
‘The presence of Russian war planes are hampering the rescue work,’ replied Donahue heatedly. ‘American fighters were ordered to ensure they are protected while transferring the crew from the submarine.’
Both men rose to their feet, facing each other. At that moment the door opened and the British Prime Minister entered the room.
‘Gentlemen, I’m glad to see you are getting on so well. Shall we go in?
‘They want to speak to you.’ The XO handed the set to Captain White. While the Captain talked to the program manager on the surface, the XO glanced round the inside of the rescue module. Five body bags lay stacked two deep on the floor. Around the cramped interior the Captain and Thomas were the only two living ones aboard. They had lifted away from the USS Montana some twenty minutes ago. Thomas was looking forward to breathing fresh air again - even if it was going to be thirty below zero.
The Captain hung up the handset, his face ashen.
‘What’s the matter Captain? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
The Captain’s shoulders slumped. ‘There’s a major problem with the reactor on board the ship. It’s gone into meltdown. They want to sink the ship to prevent the fallout.’
‘OK Captain, but how does that affect us?’
‘They have to do it now.’
‘You mean, before we’ve got off?’ Thomas was incredulous.
Captain White laid a hand on his XO’s shoulder. ‘I’m sorry Thomas.’
‘But we’re ten minutes away from the surface! Surely they can wait that long!’
The Captain lowered his head. ‘It’s fifteen minutes Thomas, and they can’t wait.’
‘Captain, I have a wife and two children!’
‘I know Thomas,’ the Captain replied sorrowfully. ‘If they delay any longer, they told me the explosion will wipe out all life forms from the Arctic for the next generation.’
‘Give me that phone!’
Thomas snatched it from the Captain. ‘I want to speak to the base commander immediately!’
‘Sorry sir, I have to go now. I’m really very sorry.’ The voice was clear but distant.
‘Just one minute please!’ Thomas paused to regain his composure. ‘If you do this, you are condemning the Captain and me to certain death. You are passing a death sentence on us, when your only reason for being here was to rescue the crew and officers of the USS Montana. Have you no pity man?’
‘I’m sorry sir.’
‘You may not realise this, but I have a family at home. A lovely wife and two children, aged 8 and 9.’
There was a long pause. ‘Hang on sir, I need to talk to the base commander.’
Thomas held the phone away from his ear, and turned to the Captain. ‘They’re checking to see what they can do.’
‘You have a lot to live for Thomas, so I’m not going to say anything - except this. The rescue mission was always going to be risky. We endured much while waiting for them to arrive. I admire your resolve, and the way you encouraged your men. Perhaps you should recognise our time has come. Realise and prepare.’
‘I’m not giving up without a fight Captain.’
The phone buzzed, and Thomas listened to the brief message. He replaced it carefully, and looked his Captain squarely in t
he eye. ‘They’re going to expedite our rescue. The program manager will remain to see to the crane. As soon as we are winched aboard we are to go straight to the lifeboat. We are to leave the bodies behind.’
Captain White lifted his head. ‘Very well Thomas. But if it doesn’t work out, just remember what I said.’
Arctic Firepath (Sean Quinlan Book 2) Page 25