And now … it appeared that the evil would triumph again. Koch’s gloating grin had sickened Mikhail’s very soul. It was the German who would get the last laugh, as he once more ordered Mikhail to be imprisoned, to await a sentence that would have only one outcome. And with his death, Mikhail’s entire life would have been completely wasted!
He had managed to tragically drag in the innocent group of young Norwegians. They, too, were condemned to suffer Koch’s wrath, all because the cruel hand of fate had brought their young lives together with his.
Mikhail’s only hope was that somehow his brother had received his desperate call for help. Being a realist, he knew that the odds were slim that the message had even reached its intended party. Even if it did, would Alexander have the courage and foresight to heed his plea, and act?
At stake here was not only Mikhail’s life and those of his young Norwegian allies, but something much, much bigger. If the U-boat was to reach its goal, with the heavy water and the gold safely delivered into the clutches of Werewolf, the entire world would be faced with its greatest threat since Adolf Hitler.
Over forty years ago, shortly after Mikhail had been released from BergenBelsen, he was faced with a crisis of faith. At that time his broken body and spirit stripped him of his very will to go on living. It had been Alexander who had given him the priceless gift of renewed purpose, and as Mikhail’s body grew strong once again, he focused his energies on one purpose only-to insure that the Nazi demon would never again run rampant on the planet.
The saddest part was that he had actually fooled himself into thinking that his efforts were succeeding in this task. He had been responsible for bringing dozens of escaped Nazis to justice, and had even managed to infiltrate several of the most prominent neo-fascist organizations. But all this meant nothing now.
Infused with new capital, and bolstered by the nuclear weapons that it would soon be producing, Werewolf would rapidly grow into a powerful force, one to be reckoned with. Its growing ranks filled with the twisted slime of the earth, the new Reich would continue where the old one left off, with a new and even more dangerous leader at its helm. Though old in years, Otto Koch was still an effective organizer, as this current operation proved.
It was evident that Koch would be able to give Werewolf its initial direction, until a younger, more dynamic leader was found to guide the fascist cause into the twenty-first century.
Mikhail had come so close to ridding the earth of this cancer once and for all. Yet his best efforts had been in vain, and soon millions of innocent men, women, and children would pay the price in tears and broken dreams. This was the ultimate injustice — that evil should prevail over good, death over life, and hatred over love. Soon the scourge of world war would once more be unleashed, this time with the horror of a nuclear apocalypse only a heartbeat away.
Chapter Fifteen
The Norwegian Coast Guard was a relatively new service. Established by an act of Parliament in December 1976, the Coast Guard became a fully integrated part of the Norwegian defense command. As such it had a wide variety of missions. These included sovereignty patrols, fishing enforcement, search and rescue, and coastline defense in times of war. It was this latter mission that the cutter Nordkapp was practicing during its current deployment.
The Nordkapp was the lead ship in a new class of vessels.
Appearing more like a frigate than a mere cutter, the ship was 105 meters long and displaced some 3,240 tons. Four diesel engines propelled it up to speeds of 23 knots, with a range of over 7,500 nautical miles. As the first ship in the Royal Norwegian Navy to carry a helicopter, the Nordkapp currently deployed a Lynx Mk86.
One of the ship’s distinguishing features was its 57mm Bofors gun that was mounted near the bow.
The Nordkapp was also armed with a 20mm cannon, six torpedo tubes, and a full load of depth charges, making it an excellent vessel for antisubmarine warfare purposes. Currently assigned to Squadron North, the Nordkapp could most often be found patrolling the waters around Svalbard.
Commander Gunnar Nilsen was the ship’s present
C.O. The forty-six-year-old Bergen native enlisted in the Coast Guard in 1977. Before that time he worked for Noroil as a diver. He still had many good friends at Noroil. In fact, he had only just gotten off the radiotelephone with one of them.
Magne Rystaad was currently diving supervisor aboard the support ship Falcon. If all worked out as planned, they would be having breakfast together the very next morning.
The Falcon was presently less than forty miles away from the Nordkapp, supervising the placement of the first Ice Field’s gas production platform. This would be a valuable new Norwegian asset, and Commander Nilsen was anxious for the current exercise to end, so that he could have a look at the monstrous platform himself.
Gunnar Nilsen stood inside the Nordkapp’s glassed-in bridge, watching as the deck crew lowered what looked to be a weighted steel cable down into the gray waters of Kongsfjord Strait. This was actually a prototype hydrophone array that they were in the process of testing for the Defense Ministry. Such a portable system was designed for the detection of enemy submarines, a threat that was taken most seriously, especially because of the unique shape of the Norwegian coastline with its deep fjords, jagged inlets, and thousands of small islands.
This particular array could perform both active and passive searches. In the active mode, a surge of acoustic sound would be shot out into the surrounding water.
This distinctive ping would then reflect off any object that happened to be passing at the moment, giving the operator a sonic picture of any unwanted trespassers. The passive mode depended upon the hundreds of hydrophones placed inside the cable itself.
These ultra-sensitive listening devices could pick up the sound of an approaching submarine. This signature would then be analyzed, and the class and nationality of the vessel determined.
The array would give ships of the Nordkapp class an exciting new capability. Already equipped with a full load of ASW weapons, the cutter now wouldn’t have to rely on platforms such as the P-3 Orion to do the hunting for them.
He could see from the awkward movements of the deck crew that the array was a bit bulky to handle.
Eventually it would be deployed by means of a mechanical winch, but before it went operational, it had to be thoroughly tested. For the moment, it would have to be lowered into the sea by hand.
To best test its capabilities, Gunnar picked the waters of the Kongsfjord Strait. This natural choke-point would be a typical transit route for a submarine that desired to reach Svalbard from the open sea. The relatively shallow waters of the strait would force such a vessel to stick close to the central channel, thus making it an easy target for the active and passive sensors around which the array was designed.
Though Gunnar was certainly not expecting to detect any submarines during this particular exercise, he always found it beneficial to make his training missions as authentic as possible. Once the array was fully deployed, they would test it on the special monitors that had been set up in the Nordkapp’s operations room. If all checked out, it would be pulled in, and they could be off to their rendezvous with the Falcon.
Gunnar sincerely hoped that all would go smoothly.
He hadn’t seen Magne Rystaad in almost a year. As young men they had been inseparable. Both had gotten their diving certificates together, along with their very first professional jobs. Gunnar had been there on the night that Magne initially met his wife-to-be.
Anna was a real knockout, and Magne pursued her with that easy-going charm of his resulting in a long marriage and two wonderful boys.
While on the radiotelephone, Magne had mentioned that he had a guest with him visiting from Texas. Also a professional diver, this individual was making his first visit to Norway, and Magne was hoping that he would be allowed to visit the Nordkapp. Gunnar didn’t foresee any problems granting this request.
The Nordkapp held no secrets, and if anything, the cr
ew would be glad to show her off.
Commander Gunnar Nilsen was thus most satisfied when the deck crew notified the bridge that the array had been deployed without complications. Now the damn thing only had to work properly, for his reunion to go as planned.”
Alexander Kuznetsov was on his way to the Lena’s attack center when he heard the steady throbbing whine, which had been with them for the last twelve hours, suddenly lessen. Someone had just cut back on the massive steam turbines that had produced this noise, signalling that they were close to their destination.
The white-haired veteran had been anxiously waiting for this moment to arrive. Though, now that they had reached Svalbard, he really wasn’t sure what would happen next. He could only trust in his brother and continue on to North Cape, which was on the island’s northern shore. Hopefully, once they arrived at this isolated outpost, their next move would be obvious.
By the time he reached the attack center, the whine of the turbines had stopped completely. He found the sub’s two senior officers huddled beside the sonar console and quickly joined them.
“Why have we stopped?” asked Alexander breathlessly.
The captain took his time in answering.
“We were preparing to enter the Kongsfjord Strait, to complete our transit to North Cape, and had just slowed to initiate the standard sonar sweep when another contact was made. Would you like to hear for yourself, Admiral?”
Not waiting for a reply, Milyutin handed Alexander a set of headphones. He heard the familiar pinging sounds almost immediately.
“Is there a surface vessel up there responsible for this active sonar search?” quizzed Alexander.
The captain nodded.
“It appears that way, Admiral.
They must be anchored over the very center of the transit channel, which means that it will be almost impossible to penetrate the strait without being detected.”
“That is a dilemma,” concurred Alexander as he handed the headphones back to the captain.
“Is there another way to reach North Cape?”
This time it was Senior Lieutenant Popov who replied.
“Not from this direction, Admiral. We’d have to back track, circle Svalbard, and approach from under the ice from the north. Because these waters are poorly charted, such an alternative route would take us approximately five hours.”
“But that’s nearly half the amount of time it took to get us all the way from the Norwegian Sea!” countered Alexander.
“There will be no sprint speeds up here, Admiral,” informed the captain firmly.
Not about to override Milyutin in this matter, Alexander wondered if the surface vessel up ahead had anything to do with his brother’s dispatch.
“Is there anyway for us to find out the identity of the ship that’s blocking the channel?” he quizzed.
The Lena’s C.O. thought this over a moment.
“We could go to periscope depth and give it the once over with our see in the dark unit. But that would momentarily leave us open to detection by radar.”
“Then that’s a chance we’ll just have to take,” said Alexander.
“Very well, Admiral. Periscope depth it is.”
While the captain went over to his command console to carry out this procedure, Alexander remained beside the sonar operator. He was so wrapped in thought, that he didn’t notice the arrival of the boat’s Zampolit until hearing his gravelly voice close behind him.
“May I ask why we’ve stopped?” questioned Felix Bucharin.
“There’s a surface ship blocking the channel up ahead,” answered Alexander.
“We’re presently going to periscope depth to identify it.”
The sound of venting ballast accompanied this response, and the now-lightened submarine began slowly ascending.
“We certainly handled ourselves well on that run up here,” continued the Zampolit.
“It’s a tribute to the crew and the individuals who designed this craft, that we were able to travel at such incredible speeds without interruption.”
In no mood for idle chatter, Alexander muttered.
“Yes it is, comrade.”
Suddenly the voice of the captain cried out from his command console.
“I’ve got it! I’m taking us back down.”
The ballast tanks were once more flooded, and as the Lena began sinking back into the protective depths, the captain revealed his findings.
“The computer enhancement shows our contact to be a Norwegian Nordkapp class Coast Guard cutter.”
Alexander ingested this information and doubted that such a vessel would be a part of his brother’s warning. Most likely this was but a routine patrol that had nothing to do with gold-filled U-boats or neo-Nazis.
He was just about to suggest that they try waiting for the cutter to move on, when the sonar operator announced yet another contact.
“I’m picking up strong screw sounds, Captain, from the opposite side of the strait. It sounds as if its coming from another submarine, though it’s unlike anything that I’ve ever heard before.”
This was the type of contact that Alexander had been waiting for, and he excitedly addressed the seated technician.
“Run it through the signature I.D. program, comrade. I must know what type of submersible that we’re dealing with here.”
The sonar operator expertly addressed his keyboard.
Seconds later, his monitor screen began filling with the requested data. Alexander bent over to read this information himself. contact unknown… signature not on file…
Not satisfied with this answer, Alexander ordered the sonar technician to run the signature through the computer once again, this time requesting that it list any other submarines with similar sound emissions.
This did the trick, and the monitor began filling with hard data. See file — Whiskey Class…
“Shall I access that file, Admiral?” asked the sonar technician.
“No, that’s alright, comrade. I’ve seen enough,” managed Alexander, as he thoughtfully backed away from the console.
The Zampolit noted an unusual expression cross the old veteran’s face as Kuznetsov vacantly looked off into space, as if seeing some sort of apparition. It was obvious that whatever he had just read on the screen had been the cause of this dreamy state, and the political officer bent over to have a look at the monitor himself.
“Comrade sonar technician, would you mind accessing this file on the Whiskey class for me?” requested Felix Bucharin softly.
The seated operator responded by hitting a single key. This caused the monitor to suddenly fill with a screen full of information. Carefully, the Zampolit read each and every word. attack submarine Whiskey Class… displacement—1,050 tons surfaced—1,350 tons submerged. Length—75 meters… Propulsion-Diesel-electric… Main Armament — torpedo tubes — Developmental History — The design of the medium range Whiskey class was based exclusively on German blueprints captured in the closing days of World War II.
Almost an exact duplicate of the German Type XXI attack submarine, 236 units of the Whiskey class were built during the 1950’s in the largest submarine construction program of the post-World War II period…
The report went on, and as the political officer continued his extensive study of it, Alexander found his limbs trembling with the realization that this new contact was none other than U-3313, the vessel his brother had warned about in his dispatch. But if this was indeed the case, now what was Alexander supposed to do? The Lena could easily destroy the Type XXI U-boat with the launch of a single torpedo. Yet what if Mikhail was somehow aboard this submarine?
Could he risk taking his own brother’s life?
Closing his eyes in an effort to solve this dilemma, he found himself wishing only one thing. If he could only see what was going on inside that vessel, then he’d know how to proceed!
Otto Koch was in the midst of having Lottie give him his customary evening rubdown, when he was informed that he was wanted o
n the bridge at once. Taking only the time to throw on a long, red velvet robe and some slippers, he left the cramped confines of his stateroom, and began his way down a passageway so narrow that Beowulf had to follow on his heels.
He entered the control room and found the boat’s captain bent over the periscope. This in itself did not look alarming, and Koch casually announced his presence.
“Whatever is so terribly important out there, Captain?
Surely the Arctic night can’t be conducive to star gazing at this hour?”
“It’s not the heavens that I’m looking at, Herr Director,” returned Charles Kromer as he stood and stepped back from the periscope well.
“Have a look yourself, if you’d like. There’s not much moonlight to speak of, but it’s enough to give you an idea what we’re up against.”
Curious now as to what the captain was referring to, Koch stepped up to the periscope and peered into its lens. At first he could see nothing but blackness.
But then gradually the sleek outline of a warship took form in the distance.
“I know that vessel. It’s the Nordkapp” revealed Koch calmly.
“She’s only a Norwegian Coast Guard cutter and will do us no harm.”
“I beg to differ with you, Herr Director,” countered Kromer.
“I too saw this same vessel while passing through Longyearben, and I remember thinking at the time how heavily armed she seemed for a mere cutter. But I never dreamed that she’d also be equipped with a fully operational sonar suite.”
“Why that’s pure nonsense,” retorted Koch.
The Golden U-Boat Page 30
