Cold Choices

“When did you receive this information?” Kokurin demanded.

“Approximately two days ago, Admiral.”

Kokurin followed the logic. “And if we had seen this data two days ago, AS-34’s first dive would have been able to place charges on those formations as well, freeing the sub.” He shot a hard look at Vidchenko, who sat impassively. Kurganov looked uncomfortable.

Lindstrom shook his head. “No, sir, I’m sorry to say that it probably wouldn’t have worked. The underlying rock where Severodvinsk rests is part of the Fennoscandian crystalline shield and is made up of very strong and hard granite, not the much softer marine shale that is typical in the South Barents Basin.”

He keyed a new page. A series of irregular but roughly parallel lines were highlighted in bright colors. They lay on either side of the crippled sub. Beneath the bright lines was a near uniform return from something very large and solid.

“Severodvinsk sits between two of these ridges, with the one to starboard holding her in that port list. You’d have to remove this entire ridge to free her. If you look closely, you will also see that ridge is part of this much larger segment that is tens of meters thick. For all intents and purposes, it is impenetrable.”

Vidchenko stared at the data, almost uncomprehending. The American submarine had gathered data that was superior, far superior to theirs. But it wouldn’t have made any difference. Severodvinsk was held tight in the jaws of an indestructible rock formation.

Lindstrom brought up another image, a simple line diagram. It showed the sub in cross-section lying on an uneven surface. Arrows showed forces acting on the hull.

“To right the sub, the hull must be rotated in place, which means overcoming friction. Not only is Severodvinsk’s weight being borne by these two ridges, but by this time it has begun settling into the mud that covers the underlying rock. Both of these work to hold the submarine where it is.

“The best solution would be to use water jets to clear the length of the hull of mud and silt where it rests on the rock. At the same time underwater robots would weld padeyes to the starboard side of the hull. These would be attached to towlines running to dedicated salvage tugs. We would literally pull Severodvinsk to an upright position.”

Vidchenko was impressed. It sounded like it would work. “But how long to do the work?”

Lindstrom answered, “Too long. Four days.” It was a death sentence. Vidchenko couldn’t accept that, having come this far.

He was still searching for words when Kokurin asked, “Is that our only option?”

Lindstrom shrugged. “We can measure the forces involved, the strength of the materials. We can even estimate the suction effects of the silt from other work we have done. This will work, with a probability of success in the ninety-percent range.

“Looking for ways to speed the process, we came up with this alternative approach.” He keyed a new diagram. It showed a row of small explosive charges along the two sides of the sub, and the towlines went to the deck now.

“Instead of welding padeyes, we use the existing deck fittings. They are not as strong, and even using the maximum number of towlines, we will not have the same lifting force. Instead of using waterjets to clear the silt, we propose running small charges the length of the hull, right where it touches the bottom. Hopefully, they will break the suction when they detonate. Additionally. Captain Petrov will have to put every bit of compressed air he has left into the port main ballast tanks, while simultaneously flooding the starboard main ballast tanks. This will generate a moment that wants to roll the boat to starboard, which should help tremendously to overcome inertia.”

“And leave him no reserve air at all,” Vidchenko added.

Lindstrom nodded. “It is the only way to make up the shortfall in lifting power. We have to make the sub want to roll to starboard.”

Kokurin asked, “How quickly can this plan be put into action?”

Captain Nakken spoke for the first time. “My crew has already started. We expect to have two robots over the side,” he glanced at his watch, “in forty-five minutes. With your approval,” he added.

Kokurin smiled, the first time Vidchenko had seen the admiral pleased since he came aboard. He felt it, too. There was another option. There was still hope.

“Understand that our estimates are less certain with this concept. We give this plan only a sixty to seventy percent chance of success.”

Vidchenko could feel the tension ease. A good plan now was better than a perfect plan too late. “When will you be able to make the attempt?”

“Laying the charges and rigging the lines, with everyone working at best efficiency, will take two days.”

“What?” Almost every Russian was on his feet, shouting, asking questions. Lindstrom seemed to expect it, and stood calmly until Kokurin could make himself heard. “I assume you have a way of keeping the crew alive until then.”

“They need more air regeneration canisters. Rudnitskiy has ample supplies aboard. The Americans can send more over to Severodvinsk using one of their underwater vehicles. That will give Petrov and his men enough time— barely.”

“That is unacceptable,” Vidchenko responded automatically. “The Americans caused this disaster.”

“Do you have another suggestion?” Kokurin demanded sternly.

“Use one of the Norwegian’s robots.”

Lindstrom replied, “No, that will not work. We need them to prepare for the rescue. If we lose one we wouldn’t be ready in time. Besides, they are not shaped properly. They couldn’t enter Severodvinsk’s tubes the way the American vehicle can. I’ve already spoken to Dr. Patterson and Captain Rudel. They are willing to make the attempt.”

The very thought of allowing the Americans near Severodvinsk again appalled Vidchenko. “There has to be another way.”

Lindstrom didn’t respond immediately, and when no one else spoke, Vice Admiral Kokurin stood and said, “We will use Mr. Lindstrom’s plan as he has explained it. Mr. Lindstrom, Captain Nakken, thank you for your expertise. I am sure that with your help we will rescue Petrov and his men. Dismissed.”

As the meeting broke up, Kokurin left first, but his aide intercepted Vidchenko. “The Admiral asks you to join him on the fantail.”

Vidchenko hurried aft. The admiral wanted a word in private. He thought that was wise. Involving the Americans in the rescue could only lead to more trouble. He was still rehearsing his arguments when he reached the fantail.

The Mil helicopter chat had brought Kokurin’s group filled the helicopter pad. It had been tied down and serviced, awaiting its passengers’ departure. Approaching the helicopter from the port side, Vidchenko didn’t see the fleet commander until he was almost at the aft railing. Kokurin stood near the jackstaff, the helicopter bulking over him. He’d chosen a very private place to talk.

“Reporting as ordered, comrade Vice Admiral.”

Kokurin had been looking aft, at Petya’s massive wake. Now he turned to face Vidchenko. “I am concerned for our men, Vasiliy.”

“Yes, sir.” Vidchenko stood quietly. He could wait for the admiral to make his point.

“Others are concerned as well. There was a near-riot in Severomorsk yesterday evening when word of the first attempt’s failure reached the families. I had several hundred people marching on Northern Fleet Headquarters!”

Vidchenko was puzzled. “How did they find out? We said nothing.”

“But others did. As I said, we are being watched. The world is watching us, comrade Rear Admiral. The President called and urged me to use every asset, any resource we could to bring our men back safely.”

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

“But, I just heard you say that you ignored information that the Americans had. You didn’t think it was ‘trustworthy.’”