Arctic Gambit_A Jerry Mitchell Novel

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Arctic Gambit_A Jerry Mitchell Novel Page 13

by Larry Bond


  17 July 2021

  1600 Local Time

  The Admiralty Building

  St. Petersburg, Russia

  * * *

  Defense Minister General Aleksandr Trusov was President Fedorin’s advisor and emissary. When he spoke, it was as the president’s proxy. Anyone who spoke to him was, in essence, speaking to Fedorin. And when Trusov asked questions, it meant the president had already asked them and was expecting answers.

  Admiral Komeyev, chief of the Russian Navy, offered a translated analysis of the American news conference. Trusov waved it off. He’d seen the video and read the analysis. “That’s why I’m here,” Trusov explained as he sat down. “We all know what they said publicly. What else do they know? What could they suspect, but they’re not ready to say in public?” he demanded.

  The matters they were discussing were extremely sensitive. Besides Trusov and Komeyev, the only other person in the room was Komeyev’s deputy, Vice Admiral Balakin. He was younger than Komeyev by five years, and taller, thinner. “They’ve been aware of the Tsitrin missile trials at Nyonoska since they started, although the Americans haven’t used that name.”

  “Or ‘Drakon,’ thank goodness, but they did link the missile to the new transoceanic torpedo,” Komeyev added. “This announcement was made to upset and distract us. It changes nothing,” he argued.

  “It did upset and distract the president,” Trusov remarked sternly. “Project Drakon—all aspects of it—was supposed to be secret, completely hidden, until the base was finished and we were ready to execute the plan. If the Tsitrin land-attack missile’s relationship with the torpedo has been compromised, what else do they know? What can they know about the Drakon’s Lair?”

  Komeyev drew a breath; he was unsure of Trusov’s reaction, but forged ahead. “As I reported earlier, sir, we know the Americans are curious about the construction on the island. We suspect their submarine Toledo may have been investigating the island when she was lost.”

  Trusov’s expression became thoughtful as he recalled the videoconference several days earlier. Finally, he asked, “You still believe that the minefield was responsible?”

  Both admirals nodded. Komeyev explained, “The mines were set up to protect the site from exactly that sort of threat: a creeping first-rank sub.”

  “That’s not where the American navy is looking for the wreck,” Trusov countered.

  “Our intelligence people have analyzed the submarine Jimmy Carter’s movements, and they only make sense if the Americans were looking for their lost sub near Bolshevik Island.”

  “Yes, Admiral, I remember your conclusion. However, intelligence reports show the American spy submarine is still at Groton. What I haven’t heard answered is why she’s still there. Doesn’t their slowness suggest another explanation?” Trusov challenged. “Besides, wouldn’t we have heard a mine explode?” He sounded puzzled, but there was an edge to the question, as well.

  Balakin replied, “It’s a very noisy acoustic environment. The sound of the explosion could have been masked by the severe ice noise. Also, the ships and submersibles in the area are only fitted with very short-range high-frequency sonars. There is almost no chance they would have heard the blast, some five nautical miles or more distant.”

  “Our original plan was to set up the hydroacoustic sensor field first, and once that was operating, then lay the mines,” Komeyev remarked.

  “But that would have taken two seasons,” Trusov continued. “I remember the discussion, and Fedorin’s decision, which I supported. I still do, because the longer we take to build the launch facility, the more time the Americans have to find out its purpose.”

  The defense minister asked, “What could Toledo have learned? Worst case.”

  Komeyev answered easily. “If they put up a periscope, which is risky with all the ice, they could have seen the ships over the construction site. Their sonars are good enough to hear the sounds of work underwater. To gain any knowledge of its nature, they would have to use imaging sonars, which are very short-ranged, meaning they would have to cross the mine barrier, or a camera, which is even shorter-ranged. They have remote vehicles equipped with those sensors, but they would have to enter our waters and approach very close. If that was what Toledo attempted, then the minefield stopped her.

  “Besides,” Komeyev continued, “anything Toledo learned went down with her. Communicating requires a submarine to expose a mast or buoy, a precarious venture in the dense, broken ice field.”

  “In addition, we haven’t detected any signals from that area,” Balakin added hopefully.

  “If the Americans are telling the truth,” countered Trusov. “If they’re lying about the search area, or perhaps the sub is not really lost. I assume you’ve sent vessels to search for the wreck. To confirm her loss.”

  “Not yet, unfortunately. Losharik, the only vessel currently in service for that type of work, is in dry dock for reactor and propulsion motor repairs. We’re working to get her back in the water as quickly as possible, but it could take as long as another week.”

  Anticipating Trusov’s next question, Komeyev quickly added, “Two attack submarines, Vepr and Kazan, have already sortied. They will arrive in their patrol zones by tomorrow and will remain there until the facility is operational.”

  Trusov nodded approval. “And I’m guessing there’s no point in sending surface vessels or aircraft.”

  “They’d have to be icebreakers, Minister,” answered Komeyev. “The ice is a problem year-round that far north. Our combatants aren’t built for ice that thick, and their movements would only draw more attention to the area, as would aircraft. And the aircraft would be nearly useless anyway, as it is very difficult to use sonobuoys in those waters—they’d be crushed. I’m hoping the Americans don’t get too suspicious about the two submarines we’ve sent out. We informed the crews they were going on combat maneuvers; it’s likely this information will leak out in social media. However, if the U.S. doesn’t accept this explanation, starts wondering where they’ve gone…”

  Trusov gestured. The admiral didn’t need to spell it out. “The risk of additional American interest is worth the security the submarines will provide. The instant the weapons are ready to fire, we win, but until then—for another four weeks, until the facility is finished, we are vulnerable. Secrecy was our greatest strength. With half the secret exposed, we must jealously guard what is left.”

  The defense minister sat back in his chair and announced, “I will inform the president that the Americans only have a vague notion that we are building something of a military nature on Bolshevik Island.”

  Both admirals nodded their understanding. Trusov continued, “We had hoped the facility would escape notice until it was operational, but as long as they don’t know it is a launch facility for the Drakon torpedo, we are still safe. Even then,” he smiled, “there are very few actions they can take.”

  Trusov sighed. “The sinking of the Toledo, if it was caused by the minefield, is unfortunate, but the alternative—the Americans getting close enough to discover its purpose—would have been a disaster. I see no reason to alter our plans on this matter. But now we need to discuss this upcoming countrywide exercise. What is the status of the Northern Fleet? How many units can you put to sea?”

  Komeyev knew this was going to be brought up, and slid a sheet of paper across the table to the defense minister. “Here is the Navy’s status, with details of all the ships currently in refit. We were adhering closely to the original schedule, but it is impossible that we’ll be able to have our major units ready for this last-minute exercise. The best I can do in the Northern Fleet is to have the main surface task force led by Admiral Nahkimov. Peter the Great and Kuznetsov still need two more weeks in dry dock to complete their refits.”

  “I understand your frustration, Admiral,” Trusov retorted. “But President Fedorin and the rest of the General Staff believe we need to ramp up our military readiness in preparation for the restoration offen
sive. The president also believes the exercise will rattle the NATO alliance, make them take a step backwards, force them to consider if they truly want to go to war over the Baltic States, Georgia, and Ukraine.”

  “I’m all for improved readiness, Defense Minister, but you know as well as I that a high tempo exercise has a price in materiel readiness. Ships, aircraft, and tanks often break down during these multi-theater wargames, and we’ll have precious little time to make any necessary repairs.” Komeyev’s protest earned him a glare from Trusov. But the hard look melted away quickly, and the older general nodded his understanding.

  “We’ve kept the Navy’s portion of the exercise to a set of coastal defense vignettes to husband our assets. Your ships and submarines won’t have to travel more than fifty kilometers from the coast.” Trusov leaned forward to emphasize what he was going to say next.

  “The vast majority of operational commands have no knowledge about Project Drakon, and President Fedorin believes that putting on a nationwide show of our military prowess will distract the Americans temporarily, force them to allocate resources to observe the massive exercise. We’ll still get some useful training out of this, but what we really want to happen is to have NATO and the U.S. focus on our demonstrations of capability.

  “This will pull some of their attention from our activities to the north, but, also, as you so wisely pointed out, Admiral, our adversaries will believe that we’ve worn ourselves out a bit with the size and speed of this exercise. They won’t expect we’ll transition into a two-front offensive within two weeks of this feint.”

  “I understand, sir. We’ll give the Americans something worth watching. Perhaps I can find a dilapidated ship or two that we can sink during the live-fire portion of the exercise. As for Project Drakon, we should begin loading the launch tubes in two to three weeks. If all goes well, we’ll be ready by the time the first ground units step off.” Komeyev tried to look and sound confident. He’d glossed over a lot of things that could still go wrong. Things the defense minister wouldn’t want to hear, nor would it have any impact on what Fedorin wanted the armed services to do.

  “Good. Some in Moscow argued that the Americans already knew too much, and that the operations should be delayed, or even canceled.” Trusov smiled broadly. “The president let them have their say, then argued we should continue as planned, that this was our best, and maybe last, chance to restore our nation. If only you could have heard him! By the time he was done, the doubters apologized for worrying. With President Fedorin leading us, we are unstoppable!”

  Balakin’s face showed he shared Trusov’s unbridled optimism. Komeyev merely smiled politely; he hadn’t been seduced by the confident prediction of victory. He knew there was a lot beyond their control, and whether the General Staff liked it or not, the Americans had a vote as well. Still, if the Americans could be tricked into looking elsewhere, it might be just enough time to get the launch facility finished. And given the key role Project Drakon played, it had to be operational.

  17 July 2021

  1800 Eastern Daylight Time

  Naval Submarine Base New London

  Groton, CT

  * * *

  Black puffs of smoke shot up from the stacks of two red tugs as they pushed and prodded Jimmy Carter into the dry dock. Ballasted down, USS Shippingport looked like two short gray walls projecting out of the water alongside Pier 15. The tugs held Carter steady as the submarine was slowly pulled into the flooded pontoon. The local newspapers had a small article in the business section announcing a contract had been awarded to General Dynamics to effect repairs on USS Jimmy Carter’s propulsion shaft bearings. The submarine was expected to be in dry dock for about a week.

  Across the Thames River, a man stood on a small boat pier watching the docking proceed with great interest. While he had an unobstructed view of Pier 15, he was still over seven hundred meters away and it was difficult to watch for long periods of time through binoculars without getting noticed. He would have preferred being closer, but it wasn’t easy to get out on Mamacoke Hill without getting wet or seen. Silently, he hoped the American spy submarine would finally do something; it had been four days since he drove up from the Russian embassy in Washington, D.C., and those days had been filled with boredom. He’d wait until Carter was in the dry dock, then he’d head back to his hotel room and report before finding a place to eat that had decent vodka.

  9

  CONNECTING THE DOTS

  18 July 2021

  1800 Local Time

  Barents Sea

  * * *

  The drone of the four turboprops had a hypnotic effect. The rhythmic beating of the engines, combined with staring at sonobuoy displays filled with background noise for hours, weighed heavily on the eyelids. The Tu-142MZ antisubmarine aircraft had been in the air for over eleven hours, and the crew was nearing its limit, and they still had another two hours of flying before they got back to base. Known as a Bear F Mod 4 by NATO, this large patrol aircraft was a variant on the Tu-95 Bear strategic bomber, and had incredible endurance. Patrolling just off the Russian coast didn’t even come close to testing the aircraft’s combat radius.

  The Bear F had sortied from the Kipelovo naval air base deep inside Russia to conduct an antisubmarine patrol near the Norwegian border, and to loosely follow three Gazprom seismic survey vessels as they made their way to Murmansk. The survey ships had operated out of the former Olavsvern submarine base, near Tromsø, under lease to Gazprom. That was until early July, when the Russian government suddenly terminated the contract. President Fedorin announced the end of the lease personally, claiming that he didn’t want the ships and their crews vulnerable to being held hostage by an aggressive NATO nation.

  The aircraft had watched as the three ships chugged along, and once they were far enough away, dropped a standard twenty-four-sonobuoy search pattern. The fifty-by-fifty-nautical-mile search box ran parallel to the coast, from just inside the twelve-mile limit to well out into the Barents Sea. The two sonar operators struggled to stay alert as they monitored the RGB-16 sonobuoys drifting on the waves below them. Each man was responsible for twelve sonobuoys and rotated through his set at five-minute intervals. With the brief exception of two false alarms, there was little to break the monotony.

  A drawn-out yawn distracted one of the operators, causing him to miss the weak line that had started to form. Two minutes later, the automatic detection function lit up on one of the buoys in the first line. Selecting the sonobuoy’s output, he saw a distinct, stable, but very faint line in one of the lower frequency bands. The lack of a signal in any of the other bands suggested a submarine. Sighing, he activated his mike and reported.

  “Sonobuoy Operator One to Combat Navigator, I have a possible submarine contact, buoy three, band five.” A collective groan from the other crewmembers erupted on the internal communications net. The major at the command console rubbed his face in frustration. “Not again,” he mumbled. Still, he had to acknowledge the contact report. “Sonobuoy Operator One, verify contact on buoy three. This had better not be another false alarm, Oleg.” The major’s tone was one of irritation.

  “Combat Navigator, contact verified. Sonobuoy in position three has a weak narrowband signature in one band only, band five.”

  “Sonobuoy Operator Two, confirm contact on buoy three,” demanded the major.

  “Confirm contact, yes, sir. Stand by.” The other sonar operator had already begun switching his display over to receive the sonobuoy’s data, but he had to wait until the signal started showing up on his screen. It took but a minute for the waterfall display to reveal the thin line; there was definitely something there. “Sonobuoy Operator Two to Combat Navigator, confirm contact buoy three, band five.”

  The major lifted his face from his hands; his eyes were now wide open. He briefly paused to look at the radar display—nothing was even close to the sonobuoy field. With the two operators reporting a detection on the same sonobuoy, and given the lack of a corresponding
radar contact, the object, whatever it was, had to be submerged. Any fatigue was forgotten. The hunt was on.

  “Sonobuoy Operator One, prepare to drop a circular localization pattern; use four RGB-26 buoys.” Before the man could answer, the major announced over the circuit, “Combat Navigator to Pilot, I have control of the aircraft.”

  “You have control,” the pilot replied.

  “Circular localization pattern set,” called out the sonar operator.

  “Executing maneuver!” the major called, while simultaneously pushing a button on the command console. The combat computer immediately began sending instructions to the autopilot and the large, clumsy-looking aircraft dipped down as it commenced a graceful turn to port. Lining up, it flew along the east-to-west axis, dropping two RGB-26 sonobuoys on either side of the alerting buoy. The aircraft then banked to starboard, circling around before running down from north to south, again dropping two more buoys. But before the last buoy could even deploy its hydrophone, two of the other buoys had already transmitted contact data.

  “Sonobuoy Operator One to Combat Navigator, buoys twenty-five and twenty-seven have positive contact. Position uploaded for MAD run.”

  The major stared at the command display. The contact had to be a submarine, and it was operating eight miles outside of Russian territorial water. Ordinarily, they’d issue a contact report and track the boat for as long as they could. But these weren’t ordinary times.

  “Combat Navigator to crew, stand by for attack run with depth bombs.”

  The sonar operators turned toward one another; both were surprised and a little concerned by the announcement, but they had heard their orders as well as everyone else before they took off from Kipelovo. Any contact closer than twenty-five nautical miles was to be prosecuted and driven away. To that end, depth bombs were to be employed. No homing torpedoes.

 

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