Cold Choices

attached, and opened it. He forced himself to listen to the entire file. Rudel’s words were clear, although there was a desperate tone to his voice.

Fellowes didn’t understand everything Rudel said. They had a retired Royal Navy officer on retainer who could translate; he’d be listening to the file, along with several other people. He didn’t have to be a naval officer, though, to know what “using warshots” meant.

As the file finished, suddenly and in midsentence, he punched a number on his cell, simultaneously forwarding the sound file to a select list of people within Skynews. One of them was the editor-in-chief. The subject line for the email was “Skyrocket,” the internal code word for a hot story.

Fellowes waited eagerly, running his fingers through his hair, as the phone rang four times before being answered. A dispassionate voice announced, “Mr. Heath’s office.”

“Mary, it’s Ed Fellowes. I just sent the boss a skyrocket. Tell him the Russians have attacked Seawolf.”

Mikhail Rudnitskiy

Captain Gradev had lived on the bridge since they’d left port, eating, getting what little sleep he could, and haranguing the engineers. Between his ship’s worn-out engines and the cranky minisubmarine, he’d had plenty to deal with.

Alex Radimov, Gradev’s starpom, appeared, shaking his head. “The engines are at maximum, Captain. Unless we can scrape the barnacles off her hull, fourteen and a half knots is the best they can do. Still, this is a minor miracle and we should buy the chief engineer an entire case of spirits when we get back.”

“Very well, Alex. I’m convinced the engineers are giving us their best.”

“I toured the sub hangar as well. Everything is proceeding well. AS-34 will be ready to launch the instant we reach the site.”

“I’ll send Rear Admiral Vidchenko another message, reconfirming our readiness.”

Radinov looked excited, and Gradev shared it. AS-34 would launch in a few hours. By dinnertime, they would finally know for themselves what had happened to Severodvinsk.

USS Churchill

The first sign of trouble was when Patterson’s laptop died, or rather, her connection to the Internet died. She’d been proud of keeping up on her email, and monitoring Parker s progress with their publicity campaign. Their correspondence with the Russian Wives and Mothers website had proved useful and educational.

Now the site she’d been reading froze. She was still trying to solve the problem when the General Quarters klaxon rang.

Patterson’s heart leapt in her throat. General Quarters was only sounded for battle or a dire emergency, like a fire aboard the ship. As she hurried to CIC, she didn’t know which one to hope for.

Baker saw her come in CIC. In fact, he must have been watching for her, letting his XO supervise the ship’s preparations. Churchill’s CIC had chairs for the captain and an embarked admiral, and Baker invited her to sit in the admiral’s place. Three large screens faced them. The center one showed a map of the area overlaid with what she assumed were tactical symbols.

As soon as she sat, Baker quietly, almost too calmly, reported, “Seawolf reports that she’s being driven from the area by ASW helicopters. They’re dropping live depth charges.”

Patterson tried to match Baker’s calm demeanor, and said nothing for some time while her mind fiashbacked to her own depth-charging experience. Shivering, she forced herself to focus on the current situation. At once, a number of questions bubbled up. She answered several of her most obvious ones herself, then asked, “Was Seawolf damaged?”

“Not as far as we know.” He handed her a message slip. “But SUBGRU Two reports the conversation was cut off, and according to them Rudel says some of the charges were getting close.”

Baker gestured to the activity in CIC. “As soon as GQ is set, I’ll place the ship in Condition Two. Condition One is General Quarters, but you can’t do that for very long before the crew gets tired. In Condition Two, all our weapons and sensors are manned, but some of the crew is allowed to rest or do essential work. We’ll stay at Condition Two, extended General Quarters, until this ship and Seawolf are both out of the Russian exclusion zone.”

Patterson absorbed Baker’s explanation, and tried to imagine how it changed the situation. “I’m uncomfortable with how this will look to the Russians, Captain.”

“I don’t care how it looks, Doctor. The Russians have dropped weapons near an American submarine, a damaged American submarine. It was a very deliberate act, not an accident.”

“They didn’t attack her directly. They were trying to drive her from the area.

“With live ordnance! This is unheard of, and unacceptable. They know she’s damaged, and that she is responding to maritime emergency. I don’t know how many international accords they have just violated. Until I know which side of the line they’re staying on, I’m not taking any chances.”

He was right, of course. Patterson studied the message, trying to glean clues to the Russians’ behavior from the transcript of Rudel’s last phone call.

“Your orders, ma’am?”

Patterson shook her head. “No change. We find Seawolf and make sure she’s all right. Then we figure out how to make these sons of Russia talk to us.”

“Understood,” Baker replied. A phone buzzed near him, and he diverted his attention to ship’s business.

Patterson sat there and stewed; the whole situation was spiraling completely out of control. The Russians’ belligerent behavior and outright refusal to communicate irritated her to no end. They seemed hell-bent on a crusade to embarrass and humiliate the United States over this incident. What did her loving husband call it? Ah yes, “chest thumping.”

She also saw that this spiral could become a vicious circle unless she somehow penetrated the communications barrier. But how? You can’t make someone pick up the phone when you call them. Or can you?

Baker hung up the phone. “Sorry, Doctor Patterson, I had to confer with my XO. We’ll be setting Condition Two momentarily.”

Patterson didn’t respond; she seemed lost in thought. A slight grin on her face.

“Doctor Patterson?”

“Yes? Oh, excuse me, Captain. You were saying?”

“I said that we’ll be setting Condition Two momentarily.”

“Excellent, Captain. Thank you. Will you please have Ms. Parker and Mr. Adams meet me in the wardroom? We have another press announcement to make.”

“Certainly. May I ask what you have in mind?” inquired Baker.

“There is an old proverb that says if you can’t bring Muhammad to the mountain, then you bring the mountain to Muhammad. Well, I intend to try that with the Russians.”

Baker looked on as she left CIC, more confused by her answer than before.

Olga Sadilenko’s apartment, Severomorsk, Russia

Olga heard the commotion in the other room before Irina burst in. “They dropped depth bombs on the American submarine!”

The older woman was puzzled. “But isn’t it near Severodvinsk? The Americans said they were going to guide our ships to the right spot.”

“Not anymore. It’s all over the Internet that Seawolf was attacked by our Navy’s helicopters. She may have been damaged.”

Others had crowded into Olga’s bedroom now to hear the conversation. They all nodded as Irina read several articles from the news sites. She saw several women pull out tissues. With the strain they were all under, tears came quickly.

“So they dropped depth bombs on the American submarine, with our men trapped underneath.” Olga’s expression mixed anger with disbelief.

“But there’s more news,” Irina announced. I just got an email from Joyce Parker aboard Churchill. It’s a press release. They are going into the exclusion zone, and she says Rear Admiral Vidchenko has agreed to meet with them aboard Petr Velikiy. The Americans have vital information they wish to give our Navy, and they will also deliver that Norwegian to our ships.”