by Bob Blanton
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Are the Russians trying to communicate with the submarine?” Blake asked.
“They are, but it’s maintaining radio silence.”
“There must be some other way to get a message to the crew. If they knew what was going on, it’s likely that they would stop the admiral,” Blake said.
“I’ll bring it up with the searchers,” Admiral Michaels said. “They should get some experienced submariners together to brainstorm ideas. If there is a way, they should be able to figure it out.”
◆ ◆ ◆
“Kapitan, the sonar pings are pinging in Morse code,” the sonar operator declared.
Commander Kerensky moved toward the sonar operator to study the data, but the kapitan pushed him out of the way. Since the Novosibirsk had left port, either Kapitan Rokossovsky or Admiral Petrosky had been in the control room, never leaving the XO alone with the control room crew.
“What do you mean, Morse code?” the kapitan demanded.
“The pings are spaced out like Morse code, see,” the sonar operator said. He started writing down the transmission.
“Do not decode it,” the kapitan ordered, “just write it down for me.”
Commander Kerensky retreated to the cabin he now shared with the ship’s third officer. Picking up a wooden spoon he had grabbed from the galley on his way, he placed it against the hull of the submarine and against his ear. He could hear the pinging of the sonar. It wasn’t as clear as it would be through a headset, but it was unmistakable. He started jotting down the message.
When he had the complete message written down, he slowly decoded it. His Morse code was a bit rusty, and he had to refresh his memory from the manual, but after twenty minutes, he had the message decoded.
‘Novosibirsk, this is Admiral Demichev, commander of the Northern Fleet. You are ordered to surrender. If you don’t surrender, you will be destroyed when you surface. I order you to surrender yourselves and surface immediately. A Russian ship will be close and come to take you under tow. We are working with the Americans to find you. Repeat, you are ordered to surrender.’
Then there was a long section that followed. It appeared to be complete nonsense.
‘My dearest Stepan. School was so easy for you. We have been struggling . . .’
It continued with seemingly idiotic sentences, like a teenage love letter. But they weren’t nonsense to Commander Leonid Kerensky. ‘My dearest Stepan’ was the code phrase his wife used when she was sending him a message. It wasn’t his name or even his middle name; it was the male character in Anna Karenina. The first line after dearest Stepan was the clue to which chapter to use; after that, the words provided a numeric code pointing to which page and which word on the page was the next one in the message. He took his copy of Anna Karenina down, an identical copy to the one his wife had, and started flipping through the chapters. Chapter five began, ‘Stepan Arkadyevitch had learned easily at school.’ “Ah, chapter five,” he said to himself as he started counting lines and words.
The code had used letter substitution to fill out some of the words that couldn’t be found in Anna Karenina, so it took a little longer to decode than usual. Still, it only took a few minutes to before he had fully decoded it. When he was finished, it read,
‘Leonid, Admiral Petrosky is a traitor. He intends to destroy Delphi City to undermine our president’s decision to sign the SALT III treaty. You must stop him. The Americans are trying to help, but they cannot find the Novosibirsk. Admiral Demichev has given you full authority to do what is necessary. Love Elena.’
Commander Kerensky sat back. “How am I to stop him? He and the kapitan are obviously collaborating on this insane mission.”
He stood up and returned to the control room. “Were you able to decode the message?” he asked the kapitan, who was still commanding the control room. The admiral was nowhere to be seen.
“It was nonsense,” the kapitan said. “I think the sonar operators on those frigates are bored.”
“That is strange,” the commander said. “I’ve never heard of anyone using sonar to send Morse code.”
“Yes, a lark. Maybe he wishes to get into the Guinness Book of World Records.”
“Perhaps.”
“Do we have a Stepan in the crew?” the kapitan asked.
Commander Kerensky had been expecting a question like this, so he wasn’t surprised, he didn’t blink. Instead, he stroked his chin and mused. “I think there is one in the torpedo room. . . . Yes, I’m sure there is one. Do you want me to summon him to the bridge?”
“That is not necessary,” the kapitan said. “I heard someone mention a Stepan and wondered if he was in the crew.”
“As you wish. Would you like me to stand the rest of the watch?”
“No, I will stand it. Go to your cabin and rest. You will need to stand the middle watch with the admiral.”
“Yes, sir.”
◆ ◆ ◆
Commander Kerensky dug though his gear until he found the stiletto that he kept hidden in it. He always kept it with him. One never knew when a silent weapon would be needed. He took it and the whetstone and sat on his bunk and started sharpening the stiletto. He used the slow rhythm of running the stiletto over the stone to calm himself so that he could think.
After an hour of sharpening the stiletto and thinking about what he should do, he lay down and tried to get some sleep. The middle watch started at 0000 and went to 0400. It was a boring and tedious watch since everyone’s body wanted to be asleep at that time. “Perfect,” he thought.
◆ ◆ ◆
“Admiral,” Commander Kerensky said as the admiral came into the control room. Commander Kerensky was waiting for him to arrive. He had made sure that he would be there before the admiral so he could prepare a few things.
“Commander, Kapitan,” the admiral greeted the two officers.
The admiral and the kapitan went through an abbreviated change of watch, and then the kapitan headed to his cabin. The two older men had been maintaining all the watches since they had left port. It was a grueling ordeal to stand watch-and-watch, four hours on, four hours off; that alone confirmed for Commander Kerensky that the message he’d received was the truth.
The middle watch was one of the hardest to stand. Your body was expecting to be asleep at midnight, and this would be especially true for the admiral, who, until he boarded the Novosibirsk, probably hadn’t stood a watch for ten years. The submarine was on Moscow time, the same as their homeport, so this was actually midnight for the admiral too.
By two-thirty, the admiral was starting to yawn. He stifled it and started walking around the control room. After a few minutes, he returned to the OOD station and sat down. Commander Kerensky immediately went to the galley and grabbed a cup of coffee. He’d made sure that the coffee urn in the control room was empty before the admiral showed up. Now, as he returned to the control room with the coffee, he was confident that the admiral would accept it.
“Admiral, how about some coffee? I find a cup always makes these middle watches pass faster.”
“Thank you, Commander,” the admiral said, turning in his chair to accept the cup of coffee.
Commander Kerensky slipped the stiletto into his right hand and then set the hand on the back of the admiral’s chair while he handed him the cup with his left hand. Just as the admiral was grasping the cup, Commander Kerensky dropped it.
“Idiot!” the admiral snapped as he automatically bent forward in an attempt to catch the cup before it hit the deck. Kerensky rested his hand on the admiral’s back; he quickly glanced at the stiletto so he could guide it, and slipped it into the back of the admiral’s skull, twisting it to ensure that the strike was lethal. He knew there would be little to no blood from the wound and with the bridge staff on their consoles, nobody would notice anything so long as there wasn’t blood to give him away; it was a favorite from the commando academy he’d attended in his youth.
“Admiral, are you okay
?!” Commander Kerensky shouted as the coffee cup hit the deck. The admiral slumped forward without making another sound.
Commander Kerensky used his left hand to push the admiral back upright and into the chair.
“Call the doctor!” he ordered. “You, help me move the admiral to his cabin.”
“Should I call the kapitan?”
“No, let’s not embarrass the admiral any more than he already is. He seems to have passed out. Too many late watches, I think.”
Commander Kerensky slipped the stiletto back up his sleeve as he put the admiral’s arm across his shoulder and lifted him up. “No, no! Just get the hatch for me.”
Commander Kerensky half-carried, half-dragged the admiral to his cabin. He laid him on the bed then leaned against the wall by the hatch, and waited for the doctor.
“What is the problem?” the doctor called out after he rapped on the hatch.
“The admiral has fainted,” Commander Kerensky said as he opened the hatch to let the doctor in. He then quietly closed the hatch behind the doctor. He followed the doctor to the bunk, and when the doctor leaned down to examine the admiral, he used a heavy bookend he’d placed in a handy location on the desk to knock him out. He laid the doctor on the deck next to the bunk then quietly exited the cabin, closing the hatch behind him.
“The doctor said it looks like exhaustion,” Commander Kerensky said as he walked back to the control room. “Krylov, you have the watch; I’ll go inform the kapitan.”
“Yes, sir, I have the watch,” Lieutenant Krylov said.
Commander Kerensky went to the kapitan’s cabin and knocked on the hatch.
“Kapitan, there is a problem with the admiral,” he announced through the hatch. He could hear the kapitan stirring in his bunk. Then finally, he heard him get out of his bunk. He waited patiently.
“What did you say?” the kapitan asked after he finally made it to the hatch. He was clearly annoyed at being disturbed.
“There is a problem with the admiral; he fainted. The doctor says that it is exhaustion.”
“Ach,” the kapitan gasped. He immediately started to open the hatch. As soon as the hatch cracked open, Commander Kerensky forced it in and pushed the kapitan to the floor. After closing the hatch behind him, the commander flicked the stiletto into his hand and leaned against the hatch.
“Now, kapitan, what will it be? Shall I kill you like I did the admiral, or do you wish to give up this charade?”
“What do you mean? You killed him! I’ll have you arrested; I’ll have you shot!”
“I don’t think so, Kapitan. You see, I can decode Morse code as well as you, and it was easy to pick up the signal off the hull.”
“It was a fake from the Americans to trick us.”
“No, it was not. The message included a message from my wife. All that nonsense that followed ‘My dearest Stepan’ was in our private code. The Americans would not have access to that, and my wife would not share it with anyone except Admiral Demichev, the minister of defense, or our president. So, what shall it be?”
The kapitan’s face fell. “It was the admiral; he ordered me to leave early, to sail here,” Kapitan Rokossovsky said.
“I’m sure that is true, but why haven’t you done anything to verify his orders or to stop him? You could have confided in me. Together we could have stopped him.”
“I wanted to, but he threatened my family, my wife!”
“We’ll have to let Admiral Demichev sort all of this out.” Commander Kerensky reached back to open the hatch. “Until then, you are confined to your quarters.”
As he turned to exit the cabin, the kapitan rushed him. It was a foolish, halfhearted attempt. Kerensky turned back to him and drove the stiletto up under his ribs and into his heart. This time there was a significant flow of blood, and the commander had to move quickly to avoid being covered in it. He pushed the kapitan to the back of the cabin, against the wall, and let him fall to the floor. Then he checked himself out. There was blood on his tunic, but it seemed that his pants had been spared. He wiped the blood off on the sheet from the kapitan’s bunk. Then using the small washbasin, he cleaned his hands. Then he removed his tunic and pulled all of his insignia off of it. He found another tunic in the kapitan’s closet. After carefully exchanging his insignia for the kapitan’s, he put the tunic on. It was only a little too big.
“It should be close enough to get me through the next hour,” the commander thought. Checking that there were no other signs of the struggle or blood on him or his uniform, he calmly exited the cabin.
Returning to the control room, he relieved Lieutenant Krylov. “Communication, release a communications buoy!” he ordered.
“Sir, the kapitan has ordered complete radio silence!”
“The kapitan has been relieved, now release the communications buoy!” Commander Kerensky snapped. “Or do you wish to be relieved also?!”
“Aye-aye, sir. Communications buoy released.”
“Get me Northern Fleet Headquarters.”
“Aye-aye.”
Commander Kerensky could hear the reply coming in before the communication officer turned to him. “Sir, it is Admiral Demichev!” he said. He was shocked that the admiral who was in charge of the entire Northern Fleet was on the channel, answering their communication.
“Admiral Demichev, how nice of you to personally answer my call. This is Commander Kerensky; I have temporarily assumed command of the Novosibirsk. Kapitan Rokossovsky and Admiral Petrosky are both feeling ill.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Admiral Demichev said. “I hope it is not too serious.”
“I’m afraid it is, sir. I believe we will need to pause our mission so they may both be evacuated and taken back to Russia to receive medical treatment.”
“I will make the necessary arrangements.”
“We currently find ourselves in the middle of maneuvers by the American and Australian navies.”
“Ah, I was informed of that. Please proceed to these coordinates; we have a Russian destroyer watching the maneuvers. The Americans will not interfere with you.” The admiral read off a set of coordinates, and Commander Kerensky and the navigator wrote them down.
“Will you need any special assistance with the admiral?” Admiral Demichev asked.
“No, I think two stretchers will be sufficient,” Commander Kerensky said. “We might need to replace the doctor; I think Dr. Makarov would like to accompany his patients.”
“Ah, I understand. Thank you, Commander. We will have the doctor from the destroyer replace Commander Makarov. I want to thank you for your diligence to your duty.”
“I serve Mother Russia,” Commander Kerensky said.
◆ ◆ ◆
Four hours later, the Novosibirsk was floating next to a Russian destroyer. A tender had been sent with a team of medics to transport the admiral and kapitan to the destroyer. Admiral Demichev had clearly understood Commander Kerensky’s meaning as the medics were not surprised to find both men dead.
The doctor was still in the kapitan’s cabin rubbing his head where Commander Kerensky had hit him. He’d been convinced that he should wait until he was on the destroyer before voicing any concerns. He nervously followed the medics to the tender. Commander Kerensky wondered if the doctor would be allowed to live. He hadn’t done anything wrong, except become a witness to the fact that the kapitan and the admiral had been killed.
It took just over an hour to complete the transfer.
When the Novosibirsk was finally free of the destroyer, Commander Kerensky returned to the control room. “Enough of this foolishness, let us complete our mission. We are too far south. Navigator set a course to take us back into the Atlantic. Let’s see if we can lose these annoying Americans. Prepare to dive!”
◆ ◆ ◆
“Marc, the Russian president is on the line,” Messina messaged Marc.
“Thank you, Messina; I’ll take it right away,” Marc said. He ordered his Comm to pick up the call. “Hello,
Mr. President.”
“I am calling to tell you that our submarine has decided to return home.”
“That is excellent news. What did it take?”
“A Russian patriot.”
“Of course, I will stand down our search and our overwatch,” Marc said. “I’m sure everyone will be relieved to hear the news.”
“What news? Nobody will care that a Russian submarine lost communication.”
“I’m sure you’re right. It’s an unfortunate breakdown. I’m sure your engineers will figure out what was wrong with the systems.”
“They already have; the key systems were, how do you say it, rebooted.”
“I understand. Thank you for calling to let me know.”
“I will talk to you later when you will give me a tour of the space station.”
“Anytime you’re ready.”
Chapter 22
A Home in the Stars
“How is my favorite monarch?” Samantha asked Marc as she gave him a hug.
“I’m good. Give me another hug, and I’ll be even better.”
“Down, Boy. We have work to do today.”
“I thought you were going to resign?”
“I did. Prime Minister Nazeri was excited to have Margaret replace me as her foreign minister. They worked together when they were both at the refugee camp before she came here.”
“Oh, that worked out nicely. So, you should have lots of time.”
“Au contraire, my King. I have all those aspiring colonists to deal with.”
“How’s that coming?”
“I’m getting them organized. I’ve got them all on a strict exercise program. I think that should weed out the light-weights.”
“I’m sure that went over well.”
“Not as bad as you might think. Most of them recognized the importance of being fit if they were going to be in a semi-hostile environment. So I didn’t get too many complaints. Reminding them that we’d be happy to send them home, shut most of them up. The real whiners washed out within a week. And they can’t complain because it was their choice.”