double-wrapped in plastic.
“I hope there is still room. These are hard copy images from La Verne’s survey of
Jerry fought the urge to answer. This was Palmer’s show. The jaygee said, “Twenty minutes, sir. We’re almost done with the loading, then sealing the case and getting her ready for launch is the same as any other mission.”
Rudel checked his watch. “Then we’ll set UUV stations at 0940. I brought this down myself because I wanted to wish you luck, Jeff. I know you’ll get the job done.”
Rudel left, and Palmer handed the package to Chief Johnson, who added it to the nearly-bursting UUV. While the torpedo division finished loading Patty, Palmer stepped back, motioning Jerry to follow.
Speaking softly, Palmer said, “Nav, I want you to make the run.”
Jerry was surprised. “What? You’re the UUV operator. You went to school on these things.”
“Yes, but we’ve all heard about your fancy Manta flying on
“That’s because you’re the guy doing the job. If I was doing it, he’d wish me luck.” Jerry lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “Look, the Captain’s pretty tense about this. Is he making the right decision by letting us try this? Is he missing anything that would give it a better chance of success? And you have to admit this plan is pretty wild. Is there anything, anything at all that he can do if it doesn’t work?”
“This isn’t making me feel better,” Palmer gloomily observed.
“So if he didn’t think you were the best man for the job, would he let you do it? He’d pull you in a heartbeat if he thought someone else could do it better.”
“All those men depend on me doing this right.”
“Correction, they depend on all of us, and we’re not going to let them down.”
Jerry got out of the torpedo room before he yielded and agreed to Palmer’s request. He wanted to do it, and part of him believed he was the best man to do it, but not enough of him to take it away from Palmer. It was torpedo division business, and Jerry was the navigator. Palmer had run plenty of sorties, all without a bobble. He’d be fine.
Jerry took his station in control. There wasn’t much navigating involved, but
Jerry had prepared for the move by studying the sonar survey of the area. At the same time that LaVerne had imaged
“Control, torpedo room. Maxine is away.” Chandler acknowledged the report. As part of his belt and suspenders policy, Rudel had ordered Maxine positioned so they could watch Patty’s progress with her sonar suite. Properly positioned, she could give Palmer some of the depth perception he’d lost when they’d bypassed Patty’s forward sonar ranging circuits.
The repeater set in control changed from black to blue as Maxine’s sonar activated. In map mode, it showed an overhead view of
It took only a few minutes to cover the few hundred yards to the spot they’d decided on, and Maxine swung around. The Russian’s hull filled one side. Jerry knew Palmer would enter commands telling the vehicle to remain in that spot, pointed in that direction, and its own computer would keep it there. He’d be busy enough.
Palmer didn’t wait for an order from control. “Control, torpedo room. Patty is away.” After Chandler acknowledged that report, Rudel picked up the microphone for the underwater telephone. “
The answer, distorted but brief, was “Understood. Good luck.” It sounded like Petrov’s voice. Passage through seawater had removed any emotion, and Jerry didn’t know what had been there. Desperation? Encouragement?
The bridge display shifted to Patty’s sonar image, showing the sonar picture from the vehicle’s point of view. Palmer brought Patty tight along
At first, the UUV seemed almost out of control. Wild pitch-downs were followed by equally wild pitch-ups. A zig to the left toward
Jerry realized what was happening. Quickly, he picked up the sound-powered phone handset and connected himself to the UUV circuit. “Torpedo room, control. Jeff, allow for the delay in your commands. Remember everything moves at the speed of sound in water. The time delay will increase the farther Patty is from us. You’ve got to get ahead of Patty, anticipate her movements more.”
Chief Johnson answered. “Mr. Palmer’s nodding,” came over the handset. The image steadied, swung back toward
“Control, torpedo room. Patty is running with a slight up angle. Compensating with the thruster.” Palmer’s voice sounded calm, but clearly stressed.
Rudel nodded approvingly, “Not bad, Nav. You and your team did a good job of balancing the UUV out with just a scale, tape measure, and an Excel spreadsheet.”
“Thank you, sir, I’ll be sure to pass your compliments on to all concerned,” replied Jerry, pleased with the results.
It took a few minutes, but the Russian swung back into view with her forward hull filling the screen. The open tube was a yellow dot down on the dull-colored hull, even with the forward edge of the sail.
Palmer had Patty advance slowly; he had to make a picture-perfect straight-in approach. This wasn’t going to be easy, as
Numbers danced at the top and bottom edges of the display. Elevation, azimuth, depth, speed, motor rpm, only range never changed, pinned at “999.” Even without range, Jerry could see the side of
It was impossible to see inside the opening, to see whether Patty was aligned with the
The opening grew steadily, but slowly. Three knots was a slow walk, and Jerry began to eye the charge meter. Luckily, it gave an accurate reading, but it had started out in the red, showing only less than an hour where a full set of batteries was good for fifty-plus hours.