and…'
Koppel fell silent as they felt a distinct vibration and heard the release of enormous pressure from the sub's hold.
'It's the torpedo chamber,' Pavski said.
Koppel eyes widened. 'The escape suits. They're getting away?'
Pavski ran for the hatch. 'Or we were meant to
They moved down the narrow midship stairwell to the engineering level, where the engine noise was almost deafening. He motioned for Lepin and Norzalk to proceed down the starboard service corridor. They nodded and disappeared through the narrow hatch.
Pavski turned and stared down the main passageway. 'I know you're here, Captain!'
No reply.
He and Koppel crept down the passageway with their guns at the ready. 'You couldn't come this close to me without wanting to finish the job. Not when I'm standing in the gangway of this stinking monstrosity you love so much.'
No response.
They were now in the mechanical section. The engine noise and diesel stench were overpowering.
'Here I am, Kirov. Your chance at last. Come and get me.'
He heard Koppel whimper behind him. Stupid coward.
'Pavski,' Koppel muttered.
Pavski gave him an impatient glance, then stiffened as he saw the terrified expression on Koppel's face. He slowly turned his head, and his gaze followed Koppel's to the fuel tanks.
The triggering mechanism flashed red and emitted a highpitched whine.
Hannah tilted her head back and clawed for the surface, writhing and spinning in the water like a towel in a washing machine. But which way was up? The direction seemed to change every second.
She'd never felt anything like this before; it was like…
Like being shot out of a freaking torpedo tube.
She finally broke the surface. She fumbled for the latches, lifted off her helmet, and tossed it into the water. Air!
There was a deep, metallic rumbling behind her. She turned to look at the sub.
The charges erupted deep within the
Kirov!
More explosions, throwing spires of flame high into the sky.
She couldn't take her eyes off it.
In the next few minutes, the ruptured hull took on water, pulling the sub down by its stern. Pockets of air exploded to the surface. The burning, twisting metal groaned like a wounded whale. The anguished sounds continued as the
Hannah trod water, stunned.
Kirov and the
'Goddamn you,' she whispered, tears running down her face. 'Goddamned men and the sea. There's no sense to you.'
A white craft in the distance headed straight for her. Probably a Coast Guard cutter. Hard to steal a 560-foot Russian submarine without somebody taking notice, she thought.
She turned back to the debris field. Kirov had probably thought it was fitting for him to die with the sub he loved so much. And maybe it was.
To hell with that.
It was just one more tragic loss. She'd had enough tragedy. She didn't want Kirov to-
Something was moving, bobbing slightly out of sync with the rest of the floating debris. It almost looked like…
She swam past the pools of burning oil, a task made difficult by the sheer bulk of her suit. As she drew closer, she momentarily lost sight of the object.
Had she just imagined it?
No. There it was, less than ten feet in front of her.
The helmet of an MK10 suit.
'Kirov!'
No response.
She pushed herself forward, grabbed the suit's padding, and spun it around.
It
Unconscious? Dead?
She unlatched his helmet, yanked it off, and splashed water in his face. 'Wake up. You come back to me, Kirov. Do you hear me?'
He couldn't die. Not now.
'Kirov!' She slapped his face as hard as she could.
He opened his eyes. 'That hurt.'
Relief surged through her. 'Can you move? Wiggle your toes.'
He nodded. 'I'm fine. You?'
'Yes.'
'Any sign of Pavski?'
'No. He's gone.'
He glanced at the debris and burning oil. 'And so is the
'Yes. I was afraid you were-'
'The thought occurred to me. After all, there is a certain tradition and obligation.'
'Bullshit.'
He smiled. 'That's what I thought.
'You cut it close.'
'I had to make sure Pavski was inside the sub. The charge went off just as I ejected.'
'Then you're lucky to be alive.'
'Lucky.' He thought about it. 'Do you know, I'm feeling very lucky at this moment. Would you like me to tell you why?'
She felt a warm surge of feeling as she looked at him.
'No.' She tore her eyes away from him and glanced at the Coast Guard cutter, which was almost upon them. 'Save it. That officer on the bridge looks pretty grim. We may need all the luck we can get in the next few hours.'
EPILOGUE
U.S. NAVAL DESTROYER BAINBRIDGE
THE BLACK SEA
32.4° E LONGITUDE 44.1° N LATITUDE