by Larry Bond
Sotera, the navy representative, volunteered, “We ordered Mystic to prep for movement two hours ago. She’s on twenty-four-hour notice, so she can be flown from San Diego early tomorrow, if we want to use her. The two Super Scorpio ROVs are already loaded on C-17s and are on strip alert. We’ve also detached USS Churchill from Standing Naval Force Atlantic. They’re near Norway. She’ll steam north, and we’ll fly the repair parts Seawolf requested out to her. When she delivers the parts to Seawolf she’ll also take off her casualties.”
“Was that wise?” Abrams, the State Department official, asked. “What if Churchill encounters Russian naval vessels while searching for the sub?”
“It’s international waters,” the admiral replied, “and we’ve ‘encountered’ Russian units before.” He wanted to say more, but Gosport kept things moving.
“We have several questions to be answered. I’ll address them in order of their urgency. First, do we pass Seawolf’s information on to the Russians?”
“We haven’t?” exclaimed Sotera. Several at the table were more than surprised. “It’s all over CNN.”
“The news reports are vague,” Abrams countered. “They confirm a Russian submarine emergency, but only hint that a U.S. sub may have been involved. To my knowledge, nobody at the State Department has had any official or unofficial communication with any Russian national in any capacity.”
“Mr. Abrams is correct,” Gosport added. “The United States has not officially provided the time and location of the collision to Russia. Until we do, the news reports can be dismissed as speculation. Once we do give Russia the data, we confirm our presence in the area and more importantly, our part in the collision.”
“They’ll blame us,” Abrams stated.
“Of course. Nothing new there,” Winters replied. “But from Rudel’s report, it sounds like he was doing his level best to avoid a collision.”
“Didn’t do a very good job,” muttered Bronson, the DoD counsel. “I’m assuming we don’t put incompetents in command of nuclear submarines, but couldn’t Rudel have simply moved away from the other submarine?”
Gosport looked to Richardson for an answer. The captain explained, “The Russian was trying to drive Seawolf out of the area by making passes very close to her. Both navies have used the tactic in different times and places to make the other side feel ‘unwelcome.’ It’s a risky business. There have been collisions between U.S. and Russian boats before, although never one this severe. In none of those cases was the U.S. captain held culpable.” The last sentence was directed straight at the counsel.
Bronson nodded and made a notation. “Still, what do we know about this man? He’s screwed up this mission. What if he makes a hash of finding the Russian sub?”
Richardson bristled. “He didn’t fail at anything, sir. Seawolf’s survey was interrupted by the Russian. That’s certainly not his fault.”
“I’ve met Captain Rudel.” Patterson spoke up. She had to make Tom Rudel real to these people. “My husband served with him when they were both lieutenants. He’s an excellent officer, intelligent and a good leader.”
“Dr. Patterson, did you have a technological insight into this situation?” Branson’s attitude was almost hostile.
Patterson wasn’t deflected by his snide comment. “The two nuclear subs involved are over three hundred feet long and displace almost ten thousand tons. Depending on their speed, it can take three to four boat lengths to change course. Given a noncooperative partner, maneuvering in close proximity, collisions are more than likely.”
Sotera, the vice CNO, reminded the group, “Rudel’s competence, or responsibility for the collision, doesn’t affect the basic fact that we know where the Russian sub is.”
“Where it may be,” corrected Abrams.
“Where it probably is,” countered the admiral. “This is a search-and-rescue mission. Not sharing what we know borders on the criminal. Furthermore, need I remind everyone here that we supported the Russians in August 2005 when the AS-28 got tangled in fishing nets off the Kamchatka Peninsula. And they were participants in this year’s NATO Bold Monarch submarine rescue exercise in May.”
Gosport’s expression showed that she wasn’t pleased at the admiral’s inference. “Until we know what the effects will be, sharing the information would seem unwise.”
“There’s no rush,” Abrams suggested. “The weather’s rotten and will be for two or three more days. Let Seawolf investigate and we can pass the information on if there’s anyone to rescue.”
“Unsatisfactory,” Sotera answered firmly. “Just like us, the Russians need time to prepare assets and equipment, and knowing where to look means they can start moving it now. And what if the weather breaks sooner than predicted?”
Bronson added, “The legal implications are fairly clear. Even if the Russian was totally responsible for the collision, withholding the information would have a very adverse effect on our position. And the Admiral is correct: We have included the Russians in rescue exercises as well as participating in the international submarine rescue liaison office. The course of action the State Department is recommending is completely counter to the president’s present policy.”
Patterson smiled, but only on the inside. That “adverse effect” would be a firestorm of international condemnation.
Gosport was convinced. “Then the Secretary of State will pass the information immediately to the Russian ambassador here in Washington. After that has occurred, the Navy may relay the exact same data through the submarine liaison office.” She turned and spoke to an aide, who quickly left the room.
“The second question is whether we recall Seawolf or let her assist in the rescue operation.”
“Seawolf can’t be recalled, Ms. Gosport,” Admiral Sotera reminded her. “According to Rudel’s message, she’s submerged, so we can’t communicate with her again until she decides to surface.”
Richardson looked uncomfortable. He didn’t like correcting the aviator. “Sir, that’s not completely correct. She can still receive messages via the floating wire antenna. She just can’t talk to us without surfacing and using the satellite phone.”
Sotera nodded and smiled. “Thank you, Captain.” He turned to Gosport. “I still recommend letting Captain Rudel proceed with his search.”
“But what can he find?” Abrams asked. “According to the message, his bow sonar is destroyed.”
Patterson leaned over to Richardson. She whispered, “I can answer this one, if you want.” The captain nodded, and she spoke to the group.”Seawolf has three unmanned underwater vehicles fitted with high-resolution bottom-scanning sonar. Each can search a swath hundreds of yards wide at five knots...”
Gosport interrupted. “Then it sounds like Seawolf is very well equipped to find a downed submarine. But physically involving her in the search concerns me.”
Abrams agreed. “Informing the Russians of our role does not require her to be there. If Seawolf stays, they will have to work with the Russians. And questions will be raised about what we were doing there in the first place.”
“Describing her mission as oceanographic survey is both accurate and publicly acceptable,” Bronson stated. “Seawolf’s classified mission is not relevant and had nothing to do with the circumstances of the collision.”
“That’s simple, at least.” Gosport sounded relieved. “Dr. Russo, what do you think the Russians’ reaction will be?”
Russo didn’t hesitate. “Before the Kursk disaster, they’d probably ignore anything we said and conduct their own search. That would cost them days, but they’ve got their pride and always want to go it alone.
“Now they’re under a lot pressure from their own citizens to work with other nations. Most likely, they’ll use the information but not give us any of the credit.” After a pause, he added, “And they’ll say the whole thing is our fault, of course.”
“We’ll deal with that,” Parker stated. “After the meeting, I’d like to get copies of Captain Richardson�
�s brief, along with any other material you have on Rudel. Also, on the crew member that was killed, Rountree. I assume his next-of-kin’s been notified.”
Concern flashed up in Patterson, but she suppressed her urge to speak when she saw that Richardson, Sotera, even Winters were equally worried. The three uniformed officers exchanged glances, then Winters carefully asked, “Why would the State Department want personal information on service members?”
Parker explained, “For the press releases, of course. Since this involves our relations with a foreign country, State will coordinate our media response.”
Gosport shook her head. “No. Involving State moves this to a higher level. For the moment, we will let the Navy deal with the media.” She deliberately looked over the assembled group, including everyone in her gaze. “It is my desire that this crisis be resolved with as little media attention as possible, and with that coverage favorable.”
“The last question regards who is best suited to coordinate the United States’ response. While I’m sure State is willing to take this on, I will again insist that this be handled at a lower level.” She looked to Admiral Sotera. “How about within the Navy?”
Richardson and the admiral conferred, the captain spoke. “Seawolf is part of Submarine Group Two in New London. Admiral Sloan is Commander SUBGRU Two and is en route here. So is Admiral Keller, COMSUBFORLANT, his immediate superior.”
“Then my recommendation will be that Admiral Sloan is designated the action officer for this incident.” She glanced at the clock. “I’ll be speaking with Dr. Wright immediately. Please inform your superiors that he may convene a full meeting this evening. Thank you.” She stood up and quickly left, while an aide gathered her notes.
That’s it? Patterson checked her watch. Twenty minutes of briefings and fifteen minutes of discussion? They’d barely mentioned Seawolf and her casualties, or the crew of the Russian sub. Both of them deserved, no, demanded more.
As the meeting broke up, Patterson approached Dr. Russo and asked for a copy of his brief—the full version.
Russo smiled at her interest. “I’m not usually called on to brief. I apologize for sharing my enthusiasm.” He handed her his hard copy of the slides. “You might as well take this one. It would just go into the shredder. At least someone will read it.”
“Don’t throw all that work away just yet, Doctor.” She smiled warmly. “And please, call me Joanna. We may need your expertise. I wish I’d heard more about actually helping those subs.”
“I wouldn’t like to be in Captain Rudel’s place right now. No nuclear sub has ever been as damaged as his and not headed straight for the barn. Once he finds the Russian, he’ll have to stay on station until the Northern Fleet shows up with a rescue force. And I don’t think this is going to be a simple handoff. Seawolf’s UUVs could be critical in saving the boat. The Russians have nothing like them, which means Seawolf could be there for the entire operation.”
Patterson frowned, imagining just how many ways things could go wrong. Then she wondered how many more ways there were that she couldn’t imagine.
~ * ~
CNN Report
“This is Jody Stevens in Moscow. A Russian Navy spokesman just released a report on the loss of the nuclear attack submarine Severodvinsk.
“The press release did not name the sub, but did describe the ‘loss of a new first-rank nuclear submarine to mysterious and hostile actions.’ The Russian naval officer would not elaborate on what might have caused the loss, but stated that ‘Russian submarines are well built and not subject to accidental loss. Only deliberate actions by another vessel could have put our submarine in danger.’
“When asked about Russian search-and-rescue plans, the Russian captain said the search was proceeding according to plans drawn up long before in accordance with fleet procedures. Weather in the area is very bad, but the captain insisted that the Northern Fleet was used to such severe conditions and would not be hampered.
“He refused to say whether the submarine has been located, or when rescue units could expect to arrive on the scene.”
~ * ~
Washington, DC
Patterson’s office was also in the Old Executive Office Building. She might have access to the president, with an appointment, of course, but that did not rate a desk in the West Wing.
Still, it was on the third floor, facing east, toward the White House, and she’d paid for the decorator herself. Antiques, warm colors and fresh flowers not only made it a pleasant place to work, but a place to visit. She also made sure that she had the best coffee on the floor, and comfortable chairs.
Her assistant, Jane Matsui, looked up as Patterson almost burst through the door. Patterson saw her reach for a stack of message slips and waved her off. “Call Ben Castle and tell him I need to speak with the adviser as soon as he finishes getting briefed by Gosport. It’s about Seawolf. Don’t let him put you off.” Matsui recognized her tone and dialed.
While her assistant spoke to the national security adviser’s office, Patterson quickly checked her emails. Only one answer, so far, but it was one of Lowell’s friends in the Pentagon. His only thoughts on the crisis were “Make sure Rudel’s got a friend in the room.”
Fifteen minutes later and one floor up, Patterson nodded to Wright’s staff. Adrienne Gosport was just leaving the adviser’s office, and she was more than a little surprised to see Patterson. She recovered quickly, though, and smiled thinly as she left for her own office next door.
Jeffrey Wright’s doctorate was in political economics. He tended to see conflicts in those terms, and he wasn’t an ideologue, which meant he tended toward the long view. Huber had appointed him as the national security adviser based on his raw intellect and the fact that without Wright he might not have carried the northeastern states.
Wright was a tall man, almost scrawny. Patterson often thought of a pile of sticks when she saw him in a chair with his legs crossed. His bushy hair was almost pure white, with only a few streaks of his original brown remaining. Although over seventy, he exercised frequently, de rigueur for anyone in the Huber administration.
“Jeffrey, the administration has to take a more active role in assisting Seawolf.”
“Nice to see you, too, Joanna.” Wright smiled and shook hands, then ushered her to a seat—not the one across his desk, but another, nearer and on the same side of the desk as his. He shrugged. “We’re letting Rudel continue with his search.”
“And doing not a single thing more,” Patterson countered. “He’s on a crippled sub in the middle of the Barents Sea and the only help he’s getting from us are some new radio parts.”
“That’s all he’s asked for.”
She smiled. “And you can’t think of another thing we can do to help him.” When Wright didn’t respond immediately, she stood and paced quickly, trying to walk off her frustration. “I wish you had run that meeting. This wouldn’t be happening. They were worried about everything except getting those men home safely.
“Their plan is for Jeff Sloan to manage the ‘incident’ from New London,” she argued. “He can barely communicate with Seawolf, even when her radios are working, which they’re not!”
Wright sighed. “I agree. He’s working at arm’s length.”
“And he’ll be working at arm’s length with the Russians, too,” she added.
“You sound like that’s a bad idea.”
Patterson shook her head. “I’m not going to say anything bad about Jeff Sloan to the President’s National Security Adviser. He’s a fine officer and very charismatic.”
“But,” Wright prompted.
“He’s like ninety-five percent of the military men I know. He’s not political. He doesn’t think in those terms. In fact, he avoids thinking in those terms.”
“While you live for it.” Wright smiled.
“I’m a people person, Jeffrey.” She smiled back.
“All right. You’ve convinced me that we need better communications, both with Seawo
lf and the Russians. Adrienne really didn’t look very hard for an action officer. I’m certainly not obligated to follow her recommendation. I think it should be you. We’ll send you to USS Churchill along with those radio parts.”
Patterson stared at him.
Wright started ticking off items on an imaginary checklist. “You understand the technical and political issues. You know many of the people involved personally. President Huber trusts your judgment, and you’ve delivered for him in the past. You’ve even been on a submarine patrol up there.”
“The Russians probably shouldn’t know about that last bit,” Patterson mused. Pausing, she half-smiled. “I didn’t know I was so annoying. You know, I might find my way back “
Wright laughed out loud, but before he could say anything in reply, Patterson argued, “It won’t work. I’m not in the chain of command. I’m an adviser to the President.”
