“Who was Elizabeth?”
“Elizabeth was my mother. I finally had her remains brought to Virginia, to a house I own out in the country. The woman you saw me with was William’s niece. He raised me after my parents were killed. I’m so sorry.”
“Why couldn’t you tell me?” Lauren slumped at the revelation. “I thought you were married. I left you and you could have easily stopped me. Why?”
The first breath of a breeze brushed against Donovan’s face. High above them the eye wall relentlessly drew closer.
“To protect you.” Donovan watched as Lauren felt the wind also. She turned to look up as Helena bore down on them. “After Meredith was murdered, I fled the media…and my life. I became Donovan Nash. I never told you, because I always feared the same thing could happen all over again. It’s a secret I’ve never told anyone.”
“Oh Donovan,” Lauren held him tighter. “I’m so sorry I doubted you.”
Donovan closed his eyes and breathed her in, as the precious seconds of his remaining life ticked away in his head. Rain began falling from the sky. The first drops hit his face. Without warning, Lauren suddenly stiffened in his arms.
“Donovan look out!” Lauren screamed.
Donovan twisted to look as a huge black object erupted from the ocean behind them. A giant black cylinder breached the surface and crashed heavily into a huge wave. Spray exploded into the air and the object momentarily vanished. Slowly, a conning tower materialized from the geyser of water. Donovan held his breath as the massive black object swayed and righted itself under the onslaught of the hurricane. In seconds, hatches flew open, and men came bursting out onto the deck, searching the water. In the fading light of the approaching storm, the Cyrillic markings on the submarine were clearly visible.
“Swim, Lauren. Swim!” Donovan yelled and began to kick with all his might toward the Russian submarine. He felt his own efforts matched by Lauren as together they struggled against the wind and rain. The eye wall was nearly upon them. Helena’s fury peppered Donovan’s face with the sting of wind-driven rain; it felt like buckshot on his exposed skin.
“Here! We’re here!” Donovan’s screams were joined with Lauren’s.
He feared their cries were being swept away by the steadily rising wind. In the noise and chaos of the hurricane, Donovan pulled the orange life vest from Lauren. He kicked to keep them both afloat as he waved the brightly colored material in the air. They were going under when something solid stung his neck. With all his force, he grabbed the line and looped the rope first around his hand, then Lauren. In seconds, they were being propelled through the water. Donovan held Lauren as they were pulled to the surface, gasping for air. Moments later, strong hands clutched them, hauling them up onto the ice-cold metal deck.
Donovan looked gratefully into the anxious faces of the sailors. The men shouted orders in Russian…lines were discarded into the heaving water. There was no time to retrieve them. Heavy wool blankets were thrown around him and Lauren, and they were whisked off toward an open hatch. Donovan reached for Lauren’s hand as they collapsed against a heavy iron bulkhead and sank to the solid floor of the submarine. The sailors quickly battened down the opening and helped them to their feet.
“This way, quickly,” one of the sailors said in heavily accented English. “We are going to dive now.”
Donovan shook his head in disbelief. His saw his own expression of shock and profound relief mirrored on Lauren’s face.
“This way,” the sailor urged, then ushered them into a larger room.
Equipment panels lined both walls. A myriad of lights glowed in the semi-dark room. Donovan knew by the periscope that they’d been brought to the control room.
“Captain Nash. Dr. McKenna. I am Captain Viktor Zirnov. Welcome aboard the submarine Voronesh.” The short, tank of a man called their names in perfect English. He nodded at them, then turned and issued a series of orders in Russian. He spun and stared at a panel. An instant later, several lights flashed from red to green and Zirnov shouted the order to dive.
“You may want to brace yourselves.” Zirnov turned to face Donovan and Lauren, as he himself reached out and held on to a handle.
Donovan leaned over and kissed Lauren’s forehead as the floor of the submarine began to tilt under their feet. The force of gravity caused him to grip the pipe harder. He caught Zirnov’s eye.
“I take it you know about the bomb?” Donovan asked.
Zirnov nodded, then looked over at a large chronograph. “We still have four minutes.”
“There’s another sub,” Donovan explained. “It has to be at least 600 feet deep to survive the explosion. Do you know where it is?”
“Yes. We have it on sonar.” Zirnov quickly spoke in Russian to two men seated at the sonar station. They replied to Zirnov’s words.
“They are not capable of diving as fast as we are,” Zirnov translated. “They will only be at 400 feet when the bomb goes off.”
“Oh, no,” Lauren gasped. Several of the crew glanced at the captain with concerned expressions on their young faces. She looked at Donovan.
“What was their concern?” Zirnov asked. “Their hull should be able to resist the pressure wave from the detonation.”
“It wasn’t that.” Donovan thought back to Graff’s explanation. “It was the acoustic shock. The designer was worried that the acrylic windows might not react well with the sound waves transmitted through the water. He thought that by diving below 600 feet, they could take advantage of the thermocline…”
“…which might deflect most of the sound waves.” Lauren finished his sentence.
Lauren turned to Zirnov. “I’m assuming this vessel is shock hardened. Would it be possible to position this sub on top of the other one? Would your hull work to shield the Atlantic Star from the acoustic shock?”
Zirnov immediately barked a string of orders to his crew. The control room was a flurry of activity. The sloping deck under Donovan’s feet twisted to the right.
“Clever woman.” Zirnov gave Lauren a wry smile. “Your reputation is well-deserved.”
“How did you know we were out there?” Donovan couldn’t stand the mystery any longer. “How could you have known any of this?”
“On the contrary, Captain Nash. Our two governments have been in contact since this plan was revealed to us. My government is in full support of trying to destroy this hurricane.”
“But.” Donovan didn’t know what to say. “How did you know we were in the water? Why did you risk surfacing?”
“One moment, Captain Nash.” Zirnov walked over and peered over the shoulder of the sonar operator. Without looking up, he issued another series of commands. The deck of the Voronesh began to level. Zirnov looked up at the clock, a worried expression flashing across his face.
“Can we get there in time?” Donovan asked, quietly.
Zirnov frowned at Donovan, then issued another series of orders. In the confines of the control room, crewmen spoke back and forth with what sounded like a growing urgency.
“Oh Donovan.” Lauren squeezed him, as she too waited.
“It’s going to be close.” Zirnov turned to them after listening to his sonar operator give bearing and distance.
Donovan had no idea where they were in relation to the tiny sub, or how long until the bomb went off above them. He silently urged the men around him to somehow get there in time.
Zirnov asked for a report. Beside him his second in command began to count down from ten. Zirnov looked at Donovan and translated the numbers to English. The two sailors at the sonar station removed their headsets and placed their hands over their ears, as did the rest of the crew.
Not knowing what to expect, Donovan and Lauren followed suit. The main lights flickered briefly and the control room was bathed in an eerie red glow. Each person stood silent and looked upward in the direction of the explosion. Moments later, the submarine shuddered. It sounded as if a giant sledgehammer had struck the hull. Donovan winced. Even with his
ears covered, the deafening metallic sound resonated sharply through the confined quarters. The overhead lights came back on and Zirnov looked up from the screen, a wary expression on his face.
“The other sub?” Donovan questioned.
Zirnov looked at the men seated at the sonar station. They were putting their earphones back on and adjusting their equipment. One turned and spoke to Zirnov.
“Still making a lot of noise in the water. Their signature is as it was before,” Zirnov announced, triumphantly. “I believe we were in time.”
Donovan and Lauren hugged and kissed in front of Zirnov and the others.
“I believe you asked me a question.” Zirnov walked over to where Donovan and Lauren stood. He turned and addressed his crew in Russian, then turned to them both. “Allow me to shake the hand of the hero who saved our submarine comrades in the Arctic. We as a group owe you our profound thanks.”
Donovan warmly shook Zirnov’s outstretched hand. He saw a genuine look of gratitude in the captain’s eyes. The sailors in the control room all voiced a unanimous agreement and issued a respectful salute.
“I still don’t understand how you knew we were in the water.”
“We had just arrived when we intercepted a desperate radio call from the other submarine. Someone was pleading with your B-1 bomber to give them time to retrieve you. Their calls went unheeded. I doubt very much their transmissions penetrated the storm. When I learned it was you in the water, I made the decision to surface.”
Donovan leaned back against the wall. “It must have been Michael on the radio before they dove. But why were you even in the area? Surely you were ordered away along with our submarines.”
“This is an Oscar class, nuclear powered missile submarine,” Zirnov said, proudly. “We operate independently. Not even our government knows exactly where we are at any given moment. We received an urgent flash message about the damaged airplane and the planned rescue attempt. I believe someone by the name of William VanGelder contacted our embassy in Washington. They in turn contacted Moscow. My superiors suggested we try to assist. They had no idea if we could arrive in time, so nothing was said to your government.”
Donovan nodded as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.
“I’m glad we could be of service,” Zirnov remarked, casually. “Now. Let’s get you some dry clothes. We have a cabin you can use while you’re with us.”
“Captain, thank you for everything.” Lauren hesitated; her brain was in overdrive. “Is there anyway we could observe the effects the bomb is having on the hurricane?”
Zirnov rubbed his chin as he pondered the request. He looked at Lauren, then Donovan. “It is possible. But I am afraid I cannot allow you to observe the process; it is highly classified. But I could perhaps allow you to study pictures from our satellite…would that suffice?”
“That would be very gracious of you,” Lauren said, warmly. “There’s some legitimate concern that the experiment might not work. I’d be grateful for any information you could pass on.”
“I will see what I can do. Now. Allow us to show you some of our Russian hospitality.” Zirnov turned to one of the other officers and spoke briefly in Russian.
The officer nodded and casually saluted.
“My man will show you to your quarters. I believe there should be some dry clothes waiting for you there.”
“Thank you, Captain.” Donovan put his hand in Lauren’s and followed the sailor down the narrow passageway. They traversed through two different compartments, the Russian sailors openly eyeing Lauren.
They stopped, and their escort pushed open a door. He gestured for them to enter. Donovan ducked through the opening, and with Lauren behind him, walked into the tiny cabin. It was stark yet functional—a single bunk folded out from the wall. There was a small desk with a reading light. A narrow locker reached from floor to ceiling. A pile of dry clothes and towels had already been set on the bed. Their escort saluted, then backed out of the room. They both heard the distinctive sound of a lock being thrown into place.
“I guess we know how far their hospitality extends.” Donovan tested the door. It wouldn’t budge. He turned and his eyes met Lauren’s—the swell of her breasts accentuated by her rhythmic breathing. He moved closer and they embraced, kissing slowly at first.
“I can’t stand not knowing,” Lauren said, bringing her hands up to her face. “I have to know if it worked. I was just guessing about the targeting information. Oh, Donovan, what happens if it doesn’t work? What about Abigail?”
“She’s safe,” Donovan held her in his arms, this time to comfort her. “William will see to it.”
A gentle knock sounded at the door. They heard Zirnov call out for them. Donovan went to the door and found it had been unlocked.
“Captain,” Zirnov greeted him. “I think Dr. McKenna might be interested in these.”
“Thank you.” Donovan smiled and took the folder from Zirnov’s hand.
“One last thing,” Zirnov added. “We’ll be underway soon and we won’t surface for quite some time. So you’re free to get some rest. I have a man stationed outside your door. Let him know if you need anything.”
“We will,” Donovan said and held the folder up. “Thank you again.”
Donovan closed the door and waited for the click of the lock. Lauren came up from behind him and anxiously snatched the folder from his hands.
“I can’t believe they got these so fast.” Lauren sat down at the desk. She motioned for Donovan to come stand next to her.
“How’d they get them at all?” Donovan moved behind her, his fingers finding her shoulders.
“It’s easy.” Lauren explained as she opened the folder. “They float an antenna to the surface. From there, they can easily access their satellite system.”
Donovan leaned closer as Lauren held up the first picture.
“Oh my God!” Lauren studied the first of the black and white satellite images. “Look at this. The resolution is amazing. They’ve blacked out some of the data. I’m guessing these are position and telemetry notations.”
“Turn to the next one,” Donovan urged.
“This is incredible!” Lauren nearly shouted out. “Look, you can see the eye right before the explosion. This small dot is the B-1; it’s east of the eye so the bomb has already been released. In the next shot you can see the detonation. The pressure dome has risen above the eye wall, and the shock wave is stretched out in a concentric ring through the storm.”
Donovan followed along as she explained each of the series of satellite photos. He could clearly see the vacuum left behind as the tremendous mushroom cloud roared into the stratosphere. That they were beneath the epicenter of the blast, and survived, seemed somehow impossible.
“Look at this one!” Lauren’s excitement was building. “The eye wall is gone, as well as all of the significant weather surrounding it. I can’t tell exactly how far from the eye the blast reached, but the bulk of the storm is gone—vaporized.”
Donovan took the last photo from her. A round chimney of water and other remnants from the explosion reached up from the surface and hung high in the atmosphere. The area around the blast was scrubbed clean of any clouds whatsoever. Helena had been gutted. All that remained of the most powerful hurricane in history was now only a few hundred miles of scattered showers.
“It worked!” Lauren shook her head in quiet amazement. “It really did work!”
“I’m so proud of you.” Donovan leaned down and kissed her neck. “You’re amazing.”
“How long did the captain say we had?”
“Quite some time, was all he said.” Donovan casually wondered how many American citizens had made love aboard a Russian submarine.
“Any idea where we’re headed?”
“I didn’t even ask.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Donovan ducked through the hatch and stepped out into the bright sunlight. Lauren held his hand and followed him out into the fresh sea air. The d
eck of the submarine was steady in the slight ocean swell. Off the port bow sat the U.S. Coast Guard cutter, Gallatin. The rakish white vessel bore the Coast Guard’s familiar red stripe on its forward hull. The American flag fluttered high above the pristine superstructure. Nearing the submarine was a small boat from the cutter.
He and Lauren both wore freshly laundered clothes, courtesy of the Russian crew. Donovan didn’t know if he’d ever inhaled sweeter air. Somewhere in the distance, an Eco-Watch ship was steaming to recover Graff and the Atlantic Star. The feisty submarine builder had earned his three million dollars.
“It’s been a pleasure to have you on board, Captain Nash.” Zirnov extended his hand. “And you too, Dr. McKenna.”
“Thank you so much.” Lauren moved in and gave Zirnov a kiss on the cheek. “You saved our lives and for that we’ll be forever grateful.”
“I only returned a favor.” Zirnov smiled. “Good luck and a long life to both of you.”
Donovan reflected on the twenty-four hours that they’d been submerged. In that time, he and Lauren had come to enjoy Zirnov a great deal. The Russian was an intelligent and compassionate man. He hoped they’d meet again one day.
“Permission to come alongside!” a Coast Guard seaman called from the boat.
“Granted,” Zirnov replied as he watched his men catch the bow line and secure the boat against the black hull of his submarine. Donovan steadied Lauren as she stepped down into the waiting arms of the Coast Guard crew. He followed once she was aboard.
“Welcome aboard Mr. Nash, Dr. McKenna.” The lead sailor smiled as a Russian seaman tossed him the mooring line. “I’ve got to say, this is a first for me.”
“A few firsts for us too.” Donovan glanced at Lauren to see if she would get his double meaning.
“The helicopter went to pick up the remainder of your crew. They should be back soon.”
Donovan turned and waved at Zirnov. His men were clearing the decks as they prepared the submarine to dive back into the depths of the ocean.
“He couldn’t have been any nicer.” Lauren waved also.
“I’m going to miss this life,” Donovan said, wistfully. At some point over the last twenty-four hours, laying spent in the small bunk, he’d finally explained to Lauren about his past. He told her about the exposé that Erin was going to write. They’d talked briefly about where they might go…where he, Lauren, and Abigail could be safe.
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