“I’m not sure,” Chuck looked around him there was no wind and the rest of the water further away looked calm enough.
“HOLY SHIT! WOULD YOU GET A LOAD OF THAT?” Tristan yelled from the bow, as if he had spotted the great white wale himself.
The massive angled funnel of the Dimitry Donskoy’s tower rose from the water just ahead of the tiny runabout.
“Its the sub! They’ve come back for us!” An excited James Goodwin exclaimed.
“Except it’s not the same sub.” Chuck responded. He knew the basics of submarine recognition and Russian subs were quite distinctive.
James turned around, a look of horror etched into his face. “What? What do you—”
“It’s a Russian sub!”
“Just how many subs are out here, Chuck?” Chess asked.
“I don’t know, but let’s move out of its wake if we can.” Chuck told Cleavon and Morris, who were rowing at the time.
“Damn, look at the size of that thing!” Tom stood up in awe.
“Yeah, its a big one alright, but you better sit down before you get thrown from the boat.” Chuck reached up and pulled on Tom’s dark fur line parka.
“Do you think they know we’re here?”
“If their onboard radar is functioning, then yes they do.” Chuck answered Sam’s question. “If not I’m sure they will in a moment.” Chuck knew that, with the sub surfacing, personnel would soon appear, either atop the tower or on the hull from one of the many hatches.
Chuck experienced several emotions and was positive the others' did too. Could this sub help them escape the now foamer infested island? Where was the sub headed? It would be no good to them if the destination was Russia—not from what Tom Transky had previously stated. Could the officers and crew be looking for a safe haven of their own?
Many, many questions. Chuck, hoped he would get the right answers.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Thirty-Nine
“Captain,” the radar operator called from the comms room. “The small vessel is behind and to our port.”
“Very good, Vasiliy,” Boris Gretchko said then turned to his American guests. “Come on, we go up top. You can tell them they have been saved!”
“You sure its them?” Cindy asked. Her eyes big, full of expectation.
“Who else could it be Cindy?” Bob took her hand and gave a firm squeeze. “I have no idea what they’re doing out here in the channel either, but I’m sure they’ll tell us—if we can get up there.” Bob pointed to the ladder that led up the confined space of the tower and to the outside world.
The Dimitry Donskoy made such good progress underwater that Captain Gretchko decided to stay under until they reached their destination. Bob and Cindy slept for most of the journey, while Mitch woke sooner and indulged in conversations with some of the crew—where he could. By the time Boris, his three guests and other crewman made it to the top of the conning tower, the small runabout was half a mile to the stern of the Donskoy.
“Here, tovarish you will recognize better with these.” Boris held out a pair of 15 x 70 binoculars.
“Thank you,” Bob said, then put the large astronomy class binoculars up to his eyes.
“Oh my…”
“What, what is it, Bob?” Cindy saw the former president’s jaw drop.
“Look Cindy, it’s them, it is them!”
Cindy took the glasses and with difficulty raised them to her own eyes. “Oh, you’re right I can see them. Chuck, Chess and oh my God—” She dropped the glasses to her chest and faced Bob. “It’s Elliot, Elliot is-is with them and—”
Cindy faltered, dropping the binoculars.
“I’ve got you!” Mitch caught her from behind and held her steady.
“You are overtaken by emotion young lady, but it will be okay, we have them on board soon, see?” Boris pointed to the rear of the submarine. Several of the crew had emerged from one of the deck hatches and prepared to launch an eight man inflatable zodiac type boat with outboard motor. Pumping compressed air into the inflatable would take but a few minutes.
“Your friends do not seem to have any power but my crew can pull them in, not a problem.” Boris said in his clipped English.
Mitch kept Cindy upright with one arm around her back so she could watch the effort to bring her Elliot back to the sub. At that moment, Cindy felt a swell of admiration for the Russian captain. He didn’t have to do any of this—but he did.
She determined at that moment, that after the baby was born, she would raise a toast to Boris, Bob, Mitch and the crew of the Dimitry Donskoy with several glasses of Russian vodka-and the hangover the next day, be damned!
“This, this is just surreal isn’t it?” Bob said to her.
Yes, it was. The whole cataclysmic event starting that day in Twin Falls outside the hospital, it had all been surreal. Cindy had wished an many an occasion, she didn’t go into Twin Falls that fateful day, but she also knew the foamer breakout was well in the works by then and would have happened anyway. Her being there—and meeting up with Elliot and Riley—is what saved her life.
“We will bring your friends in through the aft deck, through the missile room. Come, we go below.” Boris told the his guests. The runabout with the last of the Sandspit survivors, was now within a hundred yards of the Donskoy.
Bob reached out and took Cindy’s arm. “Go easy, I know you’re in a hurry to see Elliot, but a fall down the ladder won’t help matters.”
She looked up and smiled. “You’re right Bob, I’ll slow down.”
Bob waited for two crewman and Mitch to go down first before he straddled the ladder. “You follow me, okay?”
Cindy nodded and tried to look composed but the constant digs of her nails into her palm gave that away.
“I will come behind you young lady and close the hatch. You’ll be fine, Boris look after you, you see.” Boris Gretchko said to her.
Bob nodded to the Russian captain before he started down. Everyone was excited to have found the survivors without any difficulty, and he knew Cindy struggled to contain herself.
Understandable, entirely.
“Come we go this way.” A crewman motioned when they arrived at the bottom of the ladder.
Bob took Cindy’s hand and followed, with Mitch right behind.
The members of the crew that pulled the runabout back to the sub didn’t speak English or so it seemed. Chuck’s limited Russian didn’t get him anywhere either. The Russian sub sat like a hulking monolith in the channel, that divided the two main islands of the Haida Gwaii Archipelago, the survivors none the wiser, as to their fate.
“Damn, that thing’s a size isn’t it?” Tom looked up in awe.
“You didn’t take any visit’s to Naval dockyards during your time at the White House?” Chess asked him but kept his eyes on the massive outline of the Dimitry Donskoy.
“No, was never interested in seeing where or how the public’s money was wasted.”
“Well, this waste of money,” Chess gestured to the sub, as they pulled up alongside port. “Is going to save our asses, Tom.”
Tom considered the Donskoy then turned to Chess. “I can live with that.”
“Hey, Americana, you take rope,” a crewman on the deck, with passable English, called.
Chess took the thick hemp rope and immediately tied it to the bow of the boat.
“Everybody, you wait okay, you wait!” the Russian crewman was adamant with his request. The crewman connected the rope to a winch, just below the hatch and moments later the small boat with all the survivors aboard were pulled up onto the deck of the Russian submarine.
“There tovarish, save you from getting clothes all wet. We know how American soldier not like to leave comforts of home,” the Russian seaman then laughed and pointed to the personnel hatch. “Please, go below.”
Chuck took the hand of the crewman then thanked him very much for his effort. “Bol’shoye spasibo,”
“Pozhaluysta, pozhaluysta.” The crewman responded by saying he
was welcome and shook the Tall Man’s hand.
“What did you say to him?” Riley asked.
“I thanked him for what he and the others' had done, that’s all.” Chuck explained.
The survivors gathered around the hatch as one by one they descended below. The size of the Russian submarine negated the effect of the current—it was so steady that if you couldn’t see the surrounding water, you could be forgiven for not believing you were at sea.
“Welcome aboard!” A familiar, and American, voice beamed below deck.
“Bob?” Chuck turned, his eyes grew large, not sure if what he was seeing was real. “What the—”
“It’s a long story, I’ll fill you in later, but right now there’s a young lady here wanting to see you, Elliot.”
“Young lady… I’m not sure what you mean, Bob?” Elliot, who also appeared to be in a state of shock to see Bob inside the hull of a Russian submarine, said.
“He means me you knucklehead!”
“CINDY!” Elliot screamed. “MY GOD, CINDY!”
The two rushed toward each other in the shoulder wide aisle.
In the confined spaces of the submarine, Cindy didn’t didn’t see Elliot’s entire face until he turned. “What happened to your eye?”
“It’s nothing—”
“Nothing? You’ve got a damn patch over your eye, don’t tell me it’s nothing.”
“Please Cindy, I’ll explain it all,” Elliot squeezed passed a few men, “I-I thought we’d never see it each other again.”
“Looks to me like you came close to never seeing again—period.”
“Cindy, please let it go, will you?”
She extended both arms and wrapped them around Elliot when he got in range.
They two held each other tight, approving smiles came from the American survivors and the Russian crewmen, alike.
“This time you’re not getting away from me, Elliot Goodwin!” Cindy said through the tears that ran freely.
“I have—” Elliot’s voice faltered, “no intentions of going anywhere without you ever again.”
As the two teenagers rekindled their relationship, Bob made his way to the others'.
* * *
“Damn, Bob, it’s good to see you again.” Chuck said. Hands slapped on each others' backs as they joined in a warm embrace. Like the two teenagers, these men weren’t immune to the shedding of tears either.
“And you too, all of you.” Bob looked over the shoulder of his tall friend and addressed the other men. Mitch was now with those men and eagerly greeted them. “Tell me,” Bob continued, “what did happen to Elliot’s eye?”
“He was near a tactical nuclear explosion and saw the flash.” Chuck didn’t elaborate, there’d be time for that later.
“A nuclear explosion? You mean during the attempt to circumvent the automated launch system?”
Before Chuck answered, Bob felt a hand grab him on the shoulder from behind.
“Mr. President,” Tom said and the former Commander in Chief spun around, the whites of his eyes like headlights.
“Tom!”
“Yes, sir,” Tom smiled and more tears leaked from his eyes.
The two men, long time allies in the political arena and friends just as long, embraced as the others' had.
“Were you there when this explosion occurred?” Bob pulled back to asked.
“Yes, sir, I was. But how about you tell us about this Russian behemoth and how you came to be on it?”
“It’s as surprising as it is unusual,” Bob began.
The Tall Man moved in closer to hear the story of how Bob Cindy and Mitch came to their rescue in a Russian submarine.
Chapter Forty
Forty
The missile room consisted of two rows of ten vertical tubes that housed the Russian submarine launched ballistic missiles (SLBMs), this area was the most expansive in the sub. With the extra people now aboard it would serve a much better purpose than it was originally intended.
“Impressive, huh?” Chess came up behind Riley who stared in awe at the launch tubes.
“Yeah, and more than a little frightening.”
“I don’t think we have to worry about any of these babies launching,” Chess slapped the tube next to him. “Ain’t no targets left anyway, Riley.”
“That’s one way of looking at it, but we should disarm them.”
Before Chess could answer, the hatch to the missile room opened and the affable Boris Gretchko entered.
“My friends, welcome aboard the Dimitry Donskoy,” Boris spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. “Please consider this your new home.”
Boris’ heavy boots clanged on the metal walkway as he came forward. He stopped just short of Elliot and Cindy, still entwined in each other’s arms.
“And you must be the famous Elliot, the lucky man who has won the heart of this fine young lady?”
“Err, yeah… Elliot Goodwin, pleas to meet you captain—”
“Boris! You call me Boris, tovarish.”
Elliot released his right arm from around Cindy and shook hands with the Russian who studied him with purpose.
“I see the journey has not been without its toll?” Boris lifted an index finger and placed it next to his own eye. The indication was, he referred to Elliot’s eye-patch.
“Yes, and he still won’t tell me how it happened.”
Boris smiled at Cindy. “Well, I’m sure he will. There will be plenty of time, not much else but time.”
“Thank you, captain—”
“Boris, I told you, call me, Boris.”
Boris Gretchko then addressed everyone in the room—specifically his American guests.
“Sorry to interrupt your reunion,” he began, “but I would like to fill you in on our intentions.”
Boris explained how, after contact with the USS Louisiana, he and his crew came to the Haida Gwaii Archipelago for the sole purpose of rescuing the those left behind. The Donskoy would now set its course for Australia—as was agreed with the US submarine captain.
“Once you clean up and eat we can be under way once again,” Boris looked around at the faces of the Americans. “Unless there is anything else?”
Smiles and handshakes greeted Boris’ announcement except for Elliot who came forward.
“There is one more thing, Boris,”
The shock of another submarine rising out of the water, was replaced with the elation it was here for a rescue. With the excitement of that announcement, they’d all forgotten about Jerry back at the Sandspit Motel. Well, all except one.
“That is no problem at all young man,” Boris said, after Elliot told him of the lone survivor back in Sandspit. “We can bring the Donskoy close to shore then take an inflatable boat to get your comrade, easy da?”
“There is one more thing you need to know, Boris,” Riley held a hand up to get the Russian captains attention. “Our other member has a severe injury and isn’t mobile.”
“Mobile?”
“Sorry, sir.” Riley continued. “He can’t walk.”
“Da! Not a problem we take trolley from sick bay and we transfer him to sub when sea is not to rough. We have plenty of time. I will get my officer to organize showers for you, but you must follow instructions.” Boris held up his index finger. “This not like shower back in American home. You wet yourself down, turn off water, wash, then turn on water and wash off. You have one-minute-total.”
“That’s fine with us, will seem like a luxury in fact.” Riley added.
“Good, while that happens I’ll give the order to bring the Donskoy closer to this town.”
Boris then retreated through the hatch.
* * *
“They refer to the submarine by name almost like it’s part of the crew, don’t they?” Bob said in a low voice. He didn’t know if any of the Russian crew understood English and he wasn’t taking chances.
“Not so much the sub being part of the crew, rather they are part of the sub.” Chuck replied.
“How do you know that, Chuck?” Chess asked.
“I served with a few Russians,”
This had Bob’s attention and Tom’s as well.
“And where the hell would that have been?” As president, Bob knew there were no joint military training programs between the two countries.
“When I was in the Legion,”
“French Foreign Legion?” Tom asked, the look of curiosity on his face obvious.
“The very one,”
“You never told me you were in the Legion?” Riley stepped forward and confronted the Tall Man.
“You never asked.”
“You two, big man and president,” a crewman called. “Follow me, you are first for clean, okay?”
Chuck followed the crewman back through the hatch to the heads, as Bob—a little behind—took the time to shake hands with his former castaways, the unmistakable sound of the submarine’s propellers resonated throughout the ship.
“So who’s this Jerry, Elliot spoke of?” Bob asked when he caught up to Chuck.
Chapter Forty-One
Forty-One
Russian sailors brought drinking water for the survivors and informed that food would be available as soon as everyone had cleaned up.
“Well, that won’t be too long then,”
“How do you figure that, Elliot?” Cindy asked. The two still clung to each other like siamese twins.
“At a minute for the shower, another minute for dressing/undressing, add thirty second’s for the next group and we’re looking at two minutes per turnover.”
Cindy rubbed herself up against Elliot. The bulge of her belly obvious to him now, even if the Russian camouflage jacket she now wore hid it. “Mmm, you’re still a smart one aren’t you?” She whispered.
“Cindy…” Elliot raised his eyebrows. “others' can see us.”
The two giggled for a moment then shared more small talk before Cindy pressed for an explanation for the eyepatch.
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