Cold Choices

guilty was this Rudel?

“Tell the lady we are here to listen to what she has to say.”

Manning’s translation was more polite, but it did relay the gist of Vidchenko’s remark. The senior-lieutenant smiled at how Manning phrased the message, but nodded his agreement to his superiors.

Rudel began to speak, looking directly at the Russian admirals. Manning indicated that the senior-lieutenant was to interpret the American captain’s comments. “He speaks about the collision. He is sorry for the dead and injured aboard Severodvinsk. He wishes to do everything he can to help.”

Kurganov muttered, “So he’s apologizing. Fine. He’s done enough,” but Vidchenko was genuinely curious. “How does he think he can help?”

In response to the interpreter’s question, Rudel placed a colored image of a torpedo-shaped device on the table. “He says they have two of these unmanned robotic vehicles on board his submarine. They used one like it to send emergency supplies over to Severodvinsk.”

Rudel spoke again, and the interpreter translated, “The vehicle is equipped with high-precision sonar and photographic systems, which they have used to survey Severodvinsk and the surrounding area. He has a copy of the material for you.”

Vidchenko saw a fat envelope in Rudel’s hand, extended toward him. He looked at Kurganov. His face was hard, made of the same steel as the ship.

“Tell them thank you, but that information has been overtaken by events. I personally surveyed Severodvinsk early this morning, and we are now preparing to free Petrov and his crew.”

Manning looked surprised and provided the American party with Vidchenko’s reason for declining the package. The visitors stirred at this news. The Americans spoke with each other in excited tones. The Norwegian, Lindstrom, turned and asked a question, a one-word question, which the interpreter relayed. “Explosives?”

Vidchenko nodded. “Yes. We will clear some obstructions that prevent Severodvinsk from sitting level on the sea floor. When those are gone, the crew will use the escape capsule.”

Suddenly, the door to the flag mess burst open and Chicherin’s executive officer hurried in. Vidchenko felt a flash of irritation, then curiosity. They’d posted a guard outside to prevent interruptions, but from the look of concern on the starpom’s face, the matter was serious.

Chicherin started to reach for the message, but the starpom took it straight to Vidchenko. As he pressed the paper into the admiral’s hand, he turned his face away from the visitors, and bent down to speak softly to Vidchenko.

“Sir, this is from the Main Intelligence Directorate. It was just decoded.”

Patterson and the others waited while Vidchenko read the message. His face darkened, and he handed the message to the other admiral, Kurganov, as he stood. He looked hard at Commander Silas and spoke in rapid-fire Russian. His voice had an edge to it. Silas and Manning both paled and Manning began to protest.

Patterson began to ask what had just happened, and the interpreter said, “Admiral Vidchenko says you must all leave right away. We have identified one of your party as a CIA agent.”

He turned and spoke in Russian to Vidchenko, who was stepping away from the table. Vidchenko answered, then started to leave the room. “Mr. Lindstrom is welcome to stay, but the rest must leave, now.”

Manning called to Vidchenko in Russian, he spoke rapidly and intently. Vidchenko, still angry but surprised, turned to listen but obviously was unmoved. Patterson watched the exchange without understanding, but finally Manning shrugged. He leaned close to Patterson, and said softly, “There’s nothing more we can do here. I’ve said everything that could be said. We should leave. I’ll explain on the way back.”

Confused and reluctant, Patterson followed the others back to the helicopter.

23. REVELATION

USS Churchill

The twenty-five-minute flight back to Churchill gave Dwight Manning time to explain what had happened aboard the Russian flagship. The truth had not set Patterson free, or removed the incredible sense of failure that weighed her down.

All the work and chances shed taken to open communications with the Russians, for the benefit of Russian sailors, had been undone by more Cold War mistrust.

Manning reprised his entire conversation with Vidchenko for her, but at the end, she had to admit there was nothing else she could have added or changed to what was said.

* * *

As they landed aboard Churchill, Patterson rejected the first three things she thought of saying, and finally told Silas, “Please report to me in my stateroom in five minutes.”

She had time to dump her coat and laptop before she heard a quiet knock. Commander John Silas stood at the open door silently, his expression impassive.

Seeing him again fanned her anger, and she badly wanted to shout at him. Controlling her first impulse, she stuck to the script. “I assume you understood the Russians’ objections to you aboard their ship. Mr. Manning says you speak Russian fluently.” Patterson’s tone was cold, almost harsh.

“Yes, Doctor, I did.” He looked like he was going to say something else, but instead he stopped himself, waiting.

Seeing his self-control strengthened hers, and she asked, “Did you wonder why I didn’t take Dr. Russo with us? He’s a submarine rescue expert and a former submariner. He has some Russian-language skills. He would have been perfect for this meeting, except for one small problem. He works at the CIA!”

She paused for a moment. Patterson had felt her voice rising. “I knew the Russians would be security- conscious to the point of paranoia. I deliberately left him behind because I wanted them to trust us. I haven’t heard you deny their accusations.”

Silas sighed. “They’re true. I am assigned to the CIA as a senior analyst. I’m their expert on the Russian naval operations. I’ve been studying and writing on the Russian Navy for most of my naval career. You can see why the Navy thought I’d be perfect for this assignment. I’ve. ”

“How long have you been there?”

“Two-plus years. I’m retiring in two more and they’ve promised to hire me as a civilian.”

“And you just hoped the Russians didn’t know about your assignment to CIA.” She threw up her hands. “Once they hear those three letters, that’s it.”

“Ma’am, my only goal was to support you. I planned to listen and observe. They might have revealed vital clues about their intentions.”

She almost threw something at him. “We already know their intentions! This is a rescue operation! The Cold War ended while you were in college, but you’re still thinking that way, and so are the Russians.”

“Ma’am, I’m not supposed to discuss my CIA affiliation. It’s need-to-know only.”

“Which I obviously did!” She fought to keep her temper from rising any further. “That’s the problem with need-to-know. The people who need to know aren’t the ones who make the decision about what they get to know. Too many secrets.”

Silas had no immediate response, but his expression had changed as they talked, the lines in his face sliding slowly downward. He looked profoundly unhappy.

“Dr. Patterson, I’m very sorry that my poor judgment has caused this problem. I understand that you want to help rescue those Russians, and I’ve messed that up.” He spoke carefully, almost formally. “Tell me what I can do.”

“There isn’t anything,” she answered. “That’s the worst part of it all. We’ve missed our chance. I pulled that one opportunity out of thin air and I don’t know where the next one will come from.”

There was nothing else either of them could say. She dismissed Silas. “Go on, you’ve got a trip report to write for your bosses at Langley.”

* * *