Seas of Crisis

fishy. The Amethyste would have seemed to go quiet only temporarily and then started racing around at twice her possible flank speed. The Russian couldn’t dismiss this as just bad sound propagation — not when his UGST held a lock on the target.

Jeffrey began to sweat, despite the chill of the air fans. He told Bell to charge ahead, east, as if getting ready to deliver a coup de grace to the German from below, after she’d been hit by the gravimeter-homing UGSTs. Using UGST engine-noise data from O’Hanlon and Finch, Torelli confirmed that the Russians were doing what they’d been told to with their weapons.

The clock ran down; the UGSTs ran out of fuel and shut down. By now Carter would have reverted to being quiet and slow, so Challenger reduced her speed from flank to twenty-five knots. He told Harley to resume fleeing east, as a German sub once more.

It had been one of the most nerve-wracking half-hours Jeffrey ever spent in undersea combat — and this wasn’t over.

Jeffrey ordered Bell to reverse course and steer toward the Akulas, to keep a better chase formation with them — if he drew too far ahead, he’d be vulnerable to fire from the Amethyste, including nuclear fire, without adequate Russian backup. And to any real German, Challenger identified as who she was, by the noise she’d made, would be a prize of such high value that going nuclear would be justified, even at the risk of self-destruction.

Challenger neared the Akula-IIs. The Ru-ling finally spoke up. “Sir, Wild Boar signals, ‘Misunderstood rules of engagement. Weapons launched in error.’ ”

“Yeah, right,” Meltzer murmured.

“Cheetah signals, ‘Misunderstood actions Wild Boar.’ ”

“Ru-ling, make signal, ‘Task Force Commander expects and insists that rules of engagement now clear.’ ”

“New passive sonar contact on the port wide-aperture array,” O’Hanlon called out. “Tonals match Amethyste-Two class.”

Torelli’s target tracking team used the range and bearing data from Sonar to plot the contact’s position and course. “Captain Harley is accelerating to Amethyste-Two’s flank speed,” Torelli said. “Course is due east.” The tactical plots marked Carter’s new position; one plot showed Carter as friendly, and the other as enemy. She was slightly south of where she’d been at the start of her wide circling turn, and the maneuvers had cut target separation from fifteen miles to twelve, thus seeming to increase task force pressure on the German sub — Jeffrey’s goal.

Both plots showed the Russians, on one as enemy and on the other as friendly. Jeffrey questioned, from the Akula captains’ transparently disobedient behavior, which in the end they would turn out to be. “Ru-ling, make signal to Wild Boar and Cheetah. ‘Contact regained. Resume chase.’ Get the data from Weps and relay it. Then say, ‘Target undamaged. You wasted ammunition and betrayed new UGST capabilities. Obey orders in future.’ ”

Chapter 35

For another day the grueling stern chase continued. From time to time Harley would fake another dash north, and Jeffrey would force him back east with the threat of a two-to-one advantage in torpedo tubes and speed, and a great advantage in crush depth. Jeffrey’s behavior, by closing the separation menacingly if the Germans didn’t turn away fast enough, was supposed to make it clear to the German captain that, at this point — frustrated or egged on by the Akulas’ impetuous conduct — Jeffrey was willing to risk destruction in order to also destroy the Amethyste-II, a double kill acceptable for reasons of higher statecraft. This was consistent with his prior nearly suicidal tactics against real German subs, so if the Akulas had any intel reports from the Axis on Jeffrey’s warfighting style, it would all be believable. If they didn’t have such intel reports, they were finding it out for themselves, and he wanted them to know, to strengthen his psychological domination.

Wild Boar and Cheetah also continued the pursuit, and the combined task force gradually neared the eastern end of the Canada Abyssal Plain.

“We’re moving into the endgame phase,” Jeffrey said out loud, to no one in particular. He gulped down the last of what he thought must be his twentieth mug of coffee since reboarding Challenger; he used it to wash down the last of a ham and cheese sandwich, one of his favorite snacks when he was in the throes of deep fatigue during combat.

But he’d never pushed himself this hard for so long.

I’m too wired out, and stretched too thin. I need to wrap this chase up soon and send the Russians home happy. The only problem is, I haven’t figured out yet how to pull the rabbit out of the hat, and make the Amethyste sink while Carter escapes.

Jeffrey stood in the aisle next to Bell and stared at the pair of tactical plots.

“Commodore,” Bell said, “the assistant nav reports that at present speed, assuming no further misbehavior by the Russians, we’ll reach the location of the genuine Amethyste’s wreck in two hours. May I ask your intentions?”

“If I knew them, I’d tell you.”

Bell frowned. “Sir, with respect, if we just keep running east we’ll hit the line of Canadian islands and whatever friendly subs could get in position. If Carter keeps on going, and the waiting American and Canadian boats don’t open fire, the Russians will know something’s up. The distances are too great, and the closing speeds too high, for the submarines out in front of us to coordinate something with Carter fast enough to be effective and put one over on the Akulas.”

“I know. I asked for those subs to keep Meredov and his cronies from getting suspicious, since if I really wanted the German destroyed that’s one order I’d certainly give. It’s what Commander, U.S. Pacific Fleet would tell Commander, Submarines, Pacific to do anyway.”

“Concur.”

“But it’s up to us to fool the Russians.”

“Sir, I know you do your best work under pressure, but the margins in time and space are getting narrow.”

“Yup. They sure are.”

“Do you want to order Harley to make another feint north? If we add some zigs and zags now, it could buy you an extra hour, maybe more.”

“No. Good idea, but it only postpones the inevitable.”

“Then what do you intend?”

“Let me think.”

“Yes, Commodore. Of course.”

Jeffrey looked at the tactical plots, the two different versions of reality displayed side by side, just as Meltzer had suggested so many mugs of coffee ago. The plots faded in and out of focus again. Jeffrey began to zone out altogether. Then he realized that he’d induced a state of near self-hypnosis.

Schizophrenia. That’s what I told myself at the start. If I stared at these two plots long enough I’d give myself schizophrenia.

Jeffrey was feeling mentally punch-drunk. What the hell does schizophrenia have to do with submarines?

An hour went by, then more. And then he saw it. The win-or-lose gambit that would determine now and forever who won this crazy endgame — America or Germany, the truth or a very big lie. Just about the biggest big lie in military history.

He cleared his throat and spoke with new vigor. “Captain, man silent battle stations.”

“Man silent battle stations, aye, sir. Chief of the Watch, on the sound-powered phones, man silent battle stations.”