Splashdown

by David Wood

  They crashed through the muggy mangrove jungle, wiping spider webs from their faces and slicing their hands on the sharp oysters that clung to the low hanging branches. Bones in particular had a rough time due to his height, but the dogged Cherokee willed himself through the green-and-brown maze until they reached the beach on the other side.

  Bones stole a glance over his shoulder. “It’s a shame, really.”

  “What is?”

  “I’m just thinking of all the crab claws and deviled crab we missed out on by not bringing a couple of those things with us.”

  “Tell you what. We get out of this alive, maybe we’ll come back one day and do some crabbing.”

  Dane and Bones lay at the edge of the sand and surveyed the beach. They watched for the presence of roving guards or patrols, which would indicate that their escape had been noticed. Thankfully, they saw only the orderly, and thinning, procession of Russian sailors boarding their vessel.

  “We've got to get on the sub soon, before they notice we're missing.” Dane did his best to dry the ends of his pants in the warm sand and soak up some of the blood from his crab wound. Bones was already scratching at the numerous mosquito bites he received in the mangroves. He tied his long hair in a tight ponytail which he tucked down the back of his shirt.

  They stood and walked diagonally across the beach, toward the pier, taking a casual approach. If they were being observed from a distance, they wanted to appear like a couple of Russian sailors taking a smoke break, perhaps, or taking a leak before having to re-board the sub.

  By the time they reached the pier, they counted only four sailors outside the sub, and these were busy wrangling crates into a cargo net to be lifted to the sub's conning tower.

  Dane and Bones kept their heads down and walked to the gangplank that led to the sub's boarding ladder. Dane climbed up first, not too quickly but like he had every right in the world to be there. Bones went next and then they stood on the deck below the conning tower that led into the bowels of the submarine. One sailor was here, preoccupied with using a wrench on some fixture. He gave the two imposters a casual wave without looking up from his work, and Dane and Bones climbed the conning tower.

  Reaching the top, Dane took a last look at the island. From up here he could see the house. Suddenly the front door burst open and a Russian ran out with his machine gun at the ready. He looked rapidly right, left, then right again, before shouting a command.

  “Now, Bones!”

  Dane and Bones dropped down the chute-like conning tower ladder back into the submarine.

  Chapter 18

  “They'll want to be at sea and at depth to launch the nuke. We need a place to hide until the sub gets underway.”

  Dane suppressed a wave of panic at the long narrow passageway ahead of them that offered no such shelter. They walked briskly, Dane in the lead, down the tight passageway, stopping once to consult a schematic that depicted a room layout. Though not overly familiar with this Typhoon class sub, their time aboard other subs allowed them to recognize the torpedo room in context. Dane memorized its position relative to other major parts of the ship.

  They moved down the passage, their footsteps echoing as they traveled through the sprawling steel tube. Halfway down the passageway a sailor entered from the other end and strode their way. Bones walked close behind Dane to hide his head as much as possible, while Dane kept his head down with a hand on one side of his face like he was scratching an itch. They passed without incident and took a left turn into another even narrower passageway, this one with doors spaced at even intervals on both sides. They had proceeded down most of the length of this passage when Dane stopped at a door marked in Russian but with a diagram of a trash can.

  “Trash disposal room.” Dane knew from his own Navy experience aboard subs that large ones like this ejected biodegradable trash in compressed discs at sea, while non-degradable trash was stored aboard for later disposal at port. He doubted Ivkin would want trash dumped on his private island sanctuary. “Let's duck in here.”

  “Into the garbage chute, flyboy,” Bones said.

  Dane fixed him with a quizzical look.

  “Star Wars? Seriously, Maddock, sometimes I think you’re a Philistine.”

  Dane opened the door and stuck his head inside, listening. It was a small room, the walls lined with metal drums. He didn't see or hear any signs of people. Dane and Bones entered the room and closed the door behind them. The space was chilly and reeked of garbage.

  “Our accommodations just keep getting better and better on this trip, Maddock. You really know how to travel in style.”

  “Remind me to request a refund from my travel agent when I get back.”

  Dane ducked behind a group of drums and hunkered down. Bones followed suit. Should someone open the door and casually look inside, they would not be visible.

  A few minutes passed and then they heard a voice come over the sub's PA system. It was in Russian, but from the sound of it the message was not urgent and Dane guessed it meant they were announcing the intention to get underway shortly.

  “Hopefully they're still looking for us on the island,” he said.

  “And they get eaten by those hideous crabs in the process.”

  “If we're lucky they think we were eaten by those hideous crabs.”

  They felt a vibration in the room's wall. “Engines are starting up,” Dane said.

  Shortly after that the pitch of the vibrations changed. “We're underway. Give it fifteen minutes or so. Once we dive we should make our move.”

  They were both aware that prior to a submarine diving a general alarm would sound along with a message for all submariners to man their stations. After waiting several more minutes, that alarm notice came. Dane raised himself to a kneeling position.

  “Torpedo room,” Dane said to Bones. “That's where the nuke will be.”

  They rose and crept to the trash room entrance. Bones put an ear to it and listened for approaching footsteps. Hearing none, he stepped back and opened the door. They left the smelly hiding place, closed the door behind them and took a right down the passageway toward the torpedo room. They had the sub's walkways to themselves since all sailors were manning stations, but this would also raise suspicions if they were noticed. They increased their pace, as if they might be late reaching their stations.

  At the end of the walkway Dane consulted another placard map. “This way.” They took off down a gangway to the left. Dane held out a hand when he reached a closed door on the right.

  “In here. It'll be crawling with people. Hide or blend in until we can make our move.” Dane pulled open the door, which led into a short hallway open to the torpedo room. Bustling with activity, there had to be at least twenty people inside, although they were highly preoccupied with various technical jobs. Ivkin was yelling at a technician next to a bank of control equipment against the left wall of the room.

  And in the center of the space, Dane and Bones saw the atomic bomb on a workbench. It had been fitted with an outer casing as well as an application of some sort of lubricant. An assortment of electronic devices and testing equipment littered the work area next to the nuke. Dane recognized an oscilloscope and a voltage meter, but saw other machines he was not at all familiar with.

  “Makes me feel so warm and fuzzy inside to know I’m this close to a forty year-old nuclear bomb being tinkered with by Doctor Dumbass,” Bones whispered..

  Ivkin continued to make demands in Russian to his torpedo technician, his back turned to Dane and Bones. The crewman animatedly explained something, while Ivkin gestured irritably.

  Then a Russian voice over the intercom barked out a single word.

  Ivkin started to say something to his technician. He was interrupted by a blaring, high-pitched klaxon alarm that initially froze the crew to attention but in short order sent them scurrying to action. He began yelling in Russian and a crewmember reported to him. Dane wasn’t sure what was being said, but whatever it was, Ivkin didn�
�t look pleased. He did notice, however, as did Bones, that no one was paying any attention to the nuke.

  Another crew member ran to Ivkin, barraging him with a litany of complaints about whatever technical problem it was that they faced.

  Then a different alarm, this one a lower, more buzzing sound, joined in with the klaxon.

  Dane and Bones looked at one another. Bones glanced at the bomb, ten feet from them on the workbench, unattended while the crew grappled with the alarms.

  Bone’s eyes widened a split second before he made his move for the nuclear weapon.

  Chapter 19

  Bones lifted the nuke and tucked it under his arm like a football. Dane scanned the room once, but Ivkin and his nuclear technicians were all preoccupied with multiple system alerts.

  Without uttering a word, Bones dashed for the exit while Dane kept a few steps ahead of him, serving as his friend’s lead blocker. They reached the end of the room and jumped over the knee knocker into the corridor beyond. Thankfully the hall was clear and they accelerated down the empty stretch.

  “To the moon pool!” Dane panted.

  “Which way?”

  Dane flashed on the spatial observations he’d committed to memory on the way over. “Downstairs at the end, halfway down next hall, turn right. It's not far.”

  But when they reached the bottom of the stairs they were greeted by two crewmen tandem carrying a hefty length of pipe. Unfortunately for them, this meant their hands were occupied, and Dane had dispatched the one nearest to him with a well-placed chop to the neck. The other attempted to swipe a handheld radio from his belt but Dane head-butted him into the steel wall and knocked him out.

  “They have weapons?” Bones said, breathing heavily.

  Dane frisked them but his hands came away empty. “Keep going!”

  As soon as they were underway they heard angry shouts behind them followed by the trammel of footfalls. “Go, go!” Dane encouraged. He could feel Bones’ hand on his back as the stout Cherokee pushed forward with the bomb.

  They suddenly found themselves face-to-face with Bullet Man. The surprised Russian didn’t get his AK-47 raised before Dane barreled into him, batting the weapon to the side and bearing him to the ground. Bullet’s breath left him in a rush, and Dane struck the man twice on the temple. The Russian went limp.

  Dane scrambled to his feet, snatched up the AK-47, and fired a warning burst toward the sound of pursuit. “That’ll make them think twice.”

  They resumed their flight, reached the midway point of the tunnel-like corridor, and made the right turn Dane remembered into a short corridor that led to the airlock. Dane sprinted ahead here, for opening the airlock required two hands to turn a large valve wheel. He dropped the AK-47 and threw his body into the effort, thankful that the Russians maintained it well with a regular application of grease. It took some force but opened without so much as a squeak. He immediately went to work on the second airlock door—the one that opened to the moon pool itself.

  “C’mon!” Bones said. They could hear the voices of their pursuers, not far behind now, down the passageway they had just left. Dane got the second airlock open and Bones high-stepped through into the moon pool. The cacophony of the systems alarms faded behind them.

  “Go to the Russian submersible.” Dane grabbed theAK-47 and emptied it at the figures that appeared in the distance. The Russians fell back and Dane slammed shut the outer airlock door and sealed it closed again to slow their pursuers. Then he jumped out into the moon pool area and shut the inner airlock door in the same fashion.

  Bones was now passing Deep Black as he lugged his hazardous payload toward the Russian submersible that had towed them into the submarine.

  “Put the nuke in the Russian sub!” Dane shouted as he ran toward Bones. “Lower it to the pool!”

  Bones moved lightning-fast to carry out these tasks while Dane sprinted across the concrete deck, skirting various pieces of equipment and coils of cable and rope. By the time he reached Deep Black he could hear the outer airlock door being twisted open.

  Dane undid their mini-sub’s dome hatch and threw it open. He felt the cool rush of pure oxygen escaping. He snaked an arm inside the sub and found the compartment in which Bones had stashed his Beretta. He fumbled with the clasp for a second, got it, and pulled out the weapon. Comforted by its familiar weight, he spun on a heel, but then stopped. He jumped back into the sub, stooping to access a battery bank. He located the wiring harness and switched the position of two sets of wires, knowing it would cause sparks on ignition.

  Dane heard the inner airlock opening. He leapt from the sub back onto the deck. He closed its hatch to leave it as it had been and contain the high oxygen levels inside. He raced over to Bones, who had just lowered the Russian submersible to the surface of the moon pool, where it rocked crazily from its hasty drop.

  Dane spotted the nuke lying on the floor of the cockpit on the passenger side. He dropped into the pilot’s seat, quickly familiarizing himself with the controls.

  “Can you drive this thing?” Bones asked.

  “No choice. It’s learn or burn. Let’s go.” He focused his attention on the control panel. His sea gray eyes scowled at the Russian labels. Still, the most important components looked similar to those of the subs he’d just finished training with, and he quickly powered up the deep-sea craft as the angry mob of Russian submariners ran into the moon pool.

  Bones jumped into the co-pilot’s seat. The agitated outbursts of the approaching Russians were muffled suddenly when Bones pulled the dome hatch down. Dane vented the air in the buoyancy tubes, and their appropriated sub began to sink.

  “Wait. I can’t find the hatch latch!” Bones was used to the latch from Deep Black being on his right side, but it wasn’t there. They heard the ping of a bullet ricochet off something close by.

  “Bones, no time. We’re going down. Just hold the hatch down hard and pretty soon the water pressure will seal it off.” Dane felt this was true in theory, although he wasn’t looking forward to testing it out.

  Bones held onto the hatch’s grab handle and then he saw it. “It’s in the back. What kind of ass-backwards…” He didn’t bother completing the sentence as he reached behind his seat to snap the latch. “Done!”

  “Down we go.” The last thing Dane saw before he activated the vertical thrusters was a harried crewmember opening the hatch to Deep Black. He and Bones watched the moon pool opening fade from view as they absconded into the black void with the Cold War relic.

  “We made it, bro!” Bones cheered. “I can’t…”

  “Not yet, Bones.” Dane turned the sub so that they pointed into open water. Then he put the horizontal thrusters on high to propel them out from under the massive submarine.

  “What?”

  “I want to be far enough away before…”

  Suddenly they heard a dull boom and felt a concussive blast rock their little submersible.

  “…Deep Black blows.” Dane finished, hands roaming the controls to wrangle the mini-sub back to an even keel.

  Bones grinned in spite of looking a little pale. “Nice, man. Now they can’t follow us except in the mothership.”

  “Yeah, and hopefully our little oxygen bomb started a nice fire in there that will keep them busy for a while.”

  “Back to the trawler.”

  “Hell yes. We’ve got what we need. Let’s go home.”

  At that moment they heard an alarm sound in the tiny cabin. They’d never heard one before except in simulations and supervised training dives when they’d been triggered intentionally.

  “What’s up?” Bones asked, looking over at his pilot.

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Maddock! ‘Uh-oh’ is not something you say in a sub with an alarm going off two miles underwater, man.”

  “Okay, I take it back, then.

  “So what is it?”

  “We’re low on oxygen and battery power.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Yeah. M
akes sense though, since this thing just got back from the capsule dive to bring us into the submarine, and I don’t even think they had it charging at all. They were all focused on us and the nuke.”

  “I didn’t have to unplug any charging cables.”

  “Nor did they have a chance to swap out the oh-two tanks for fresh ones. Probably not the carbon dioxide scrubbers, either.”

  Bones took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I guess we should have just high-tailed it outta there in our own sub. We had the go-juice and the breathing gas, and they wouldn’t have been able to follow us very far in this thing.”

  “But then we wouldn’t have had the explosion, which is what’s keeping the Typhoon sub from just blowing us out of the water with a torpedo right now.”

  “Hey, well that’s good news.” Bones alternated holding one hand higher than the other. “Air...not blown up...air...not blown up...”

  “Speaking of air, maybe we should conserve what little we have left by not talking except when absolutely necessary. I’m going to drop the ballast and aim straight up with the thrusters.”

  “Do it. The Typhoon’s holding position. They’re not coming after us. Yet.”

  Dane dropped the weights the sub carried and put the submersible into a steep powered ascent. They began to rise rapidly toward the surface. Bones called out their depth at significant intervals.

  “Two thousand meters...”

  Minutes passed in silence where the SEAL duo monitored their equipment and displays. It soon became apparent that it was becoming harder to breathe.

  “Fifteen hundred meters…Are we going to lose battery power first or air?”

  Dane consulted his gauges, face lined with worry.

  “Probably air.”

  Chapter 20

  Dane tried not to let the headache interfere with his focus. But as the oxygen levels in the sub dropped and carbon dioxide increased, he was all too well aware that the throbbing pain in his temples was going to get worse before it got better. He looked over and saw Bones glance at the depth meter before closing his eyes and rubbing his temples.