Operation Arctic Sting, page 15
That’s when a machinegun-like chatter shattered the silence. At the time, it was pure chaos, although we pieced it together afterward. Apparently, the lead rider on the Sirena suddenly spotted Borysko peeking over the canyon lip about thirty feet distant. He emptied his APS in Borysko’s direction, twenty-six darts super-cavitating their way out of his barrel. Several lodged in Borysko’s blubber, causing no permanent harm, but seriously pissing him off. Both Harry and Whitey took darts in their arms—painful but not serious. Jake took a dart through his faceplate into his brain. He died instantly.
Jake had established a rapport with Borysko. The Orca always seemed to favor Jake when they both were in the water. Borysko sensed something about Jake. He briefly nuzzled Jake’s body and then streaked toward the Sirena. He slammed into the manned torpedo, knocking both divers out of their cockpits. A deadman switch activated, and the Sirena settled gently to the bottom. Borysko tore into the two divers, killing them and scattering their body parts left and right.
The two Protei-5 riders turned their attention to Borysko, firing their APS darts in quick three-shot bursts. All that accomplished was to anger Borysko even further. My divers turned on their headlamps and rushed to the aid of the attackers, but Borysko was having none of that. He methodically took out both riders and then checked each of my divers one-by-one, making sure they were okay, including Harry and Whitey, who had hunkered down at the lip, nursing their wounds.
Bill, Jimmy, and Jer cautiously approached Borysko and commenced pulling the smooth darts from his skin. He seemed to understand their intent and let them do it. Sergyi, Wyatt, and Ken joined them. All six divers later exclaimed about what an awesome experience that was.
Teuthis returned upslope to her former position beside us, and the divers got Harry and Whitey into the DDC for treatment. Jake’s body was placed in a body bag and brought into the DDC. Bill, Jimmy, and Jer then reattached the shorepower cable so we could complete the charge.
The mood inside both subs was somber and increasingly angry. Everybody wanted revenge, nobody more than Sergyi. After the first half of my crew completed their ablutions and partook of a hearty steak and baker meal, they assembled in Mystic for the short return trip. As the five men dropped into Lyre, their normal jocular repartee was missing. Instead, a somber atmosphere permeated the captured Soviet sub. Sergyi was more than somber; he was livid.
“Mac, can we talk?” Sergyi asked almost as soon as his feet hit the deck.
“Sure,” I said and walked with him to the Mess Deck.
“Jake’s death was NOT necessary,” he said as soon as we were alone. “Those Spetsnaz guys bastards. Their reputation is shoot first and apologize after. They are taught that Orca is not dangerous, and they would not normally attack Orca. They are very smart. The shooter must have surmised that Borysko had risen from a depression. Based on their reason for attack in first place, he presumed presence of armed divers at the lip of the depression. He was not shooting at Borysko. He was shooting at divers he knew were there. It was unprovoked…unnecessary…abomination!” Sergyi took a deep breath. I could tell he was shaken.
“Victor-III not normally carry Morskoy Spetsnaz. But their purpose is find and destroy Lyre. For that, they decide they need Morskoy Spetsnaz. Somehow, they figure we bottom at Tasmania Islands and decide to destroy Lyre with Sirena. I train on Sirena and Protei-five.” He paused again and looked me deep in my eyes.
“I think Borysko not damage Sirena, maybe also not two Proteis. I have proposal,” he said quietly. “Doc says Harry and Whitey okay for diving. I take them outside with two heated paraffin drums. We find Sirena and both Proteis. We rig drums to draw power from Serina to melt paraffin. I take Sirena and sling drums over back. Harry and Whitey each take Protei. I rig Sirena with delay detonator. We locate Victor-III and pump paraffin into intake. Then delay-detonate Sirena at screws and ride Proteis back to Teuthis. I hitch ride back with Harry or Whitey.”
“What will the Sirena do to the Victor-III?” I asked.
“Damage propulsion, perhaps force Victor to use auxiliary screws on stern planes. Not sink sub, but plenty scare.”
Sergyi had a point. I gave what he said some thought and then said, “Okay, Sergyi, you return to Teuthis with me, and we will talk with the skipper. If he approves, we’ll do it.”
Cmdr. Roken asked Sergyi several penetrating questions. Perhaps the most pertinent was, “What are the odds of there being more Spetsnaz divers on the Victor-III?”
“Morskoy Spetsnaz units on subs usually consist of four divers,” Sergyi answered, holding up four fingers. “Just four.”
In the end, the skipper approved the excursion. Sergyi went back to the machine shop in the Auxiliary Machinery space to kluge together a mechanical delay-timer for detonating the Sirena.
The skipper and I both agreed that I should return to Lyre in case we needed to move the Alfa from its present location. I managed to get in a shower and a quick medium-rare with a buttered baker before taking the short ride back to my new command. Part of me really wanted to be with Sergyi and the others. I had full confidence in their abilities, but I still yearned to be with them.
By the time Mystic had clamped into her cradle on Teuthis, we had completed our charge. Earlier, in preparation for such an event, we had set up two paraffin drums like we did with Carp off Pt. Barrow16. Each drum was wrapped with heating coils and covered with thick insulation. Instead of the waterproof extension cord we used with Carp, however, we rigged both drums to draw power from the Serina. We also replaced the handpumps with electric pumps that would speed up the process enormously. As before, each drum also carried a couple of diving weights to bring it to neutral buoyancy.
Sergyi, Harry, and Whitey entered the water and took charge of the drums with their makeshift harness. The three divers kept close to the bottom as they topped the lip and headed toward the carnage Borysko had caused. They found the Sirena on the bottom, undamaged, surrounded by the torn body parts of the two Spetsnaz divers. The Protei divers had their heads ripped off, and both sets of Protei shoulder braces were bent, but otherwise, they still functioned. Nearby, the divers located four APS underwater weapons with empty magazines and four extra magazines with twenty-six darts each. They also found two SPP underwater pistols with four four-dart loads on the two Protei riders, but they never located the two pistols probably worn by the unlucky Sirena riders. They didn’t find any extra four-dart loads.
The three divers headed toward the Victor-III, presuming that it rested on the slope immediately opposite Teuthis and Lyre. The Sirena’s homing readout indicated the Victor-III’s general direction—no range, just direction. That sufficed to get them within visual range of the sub.
“They will see us coming,” Sergyi said over the underwater circuit, “but they will think we are their returning divers.”
“No matter,” Harry said, “but we need to hustle.”
They worked directly off the Sirena’s back. Sergyi and Whitey manipulated the Sirena so the heated drums were directly beneath the starboard intake. While Sergyi stabilized the Sirena, Harry and Whitey held the hoses inside the intake, and Sergyi activated the pumps. They emptied the drums about ten minutes later. Suction at the intake ceased, and the Victor-III’s reactor scrammed. The divers could hear the alarms right through the hull.
“Now!” Sergyi said as all three pushed the Sirena aft under the giant tandem four-bladed props.
Sergyi armed the Sirena’s double warhead and attached his makeshift timer to the detonate button. Harry and Whitey mounted their Proteis, and Harry moved his so that Sergyi could grab hold of the bracket that passed up between his legs.
“Now!” Sergyi said, activating the timer. Both Proteis sped off in the direction of Teuthis and Lyre. One nautical mile later, the double warhead exploded. Since Protei steering control was provided by the divers’ fins, the explosion’s shockwave drove both Proteis into the muddy bottom. Harry and Whitey extricated themselves from the soft bottom after the shockwave passed and checked themselves and their mounts.
“Everyone okay?” Sergyi asked. When the shockwave hit, he had let go of Harry’s brace and thus was spared the indignity of being slammed into the mud.
Other than ringing ears, the three seemed unharmed. They mounted up, and five minutes later, they brought their mechanical steeds to a standstill directly below the Egress hatch. They passed their three APSs and two SSPs through the hatch along with the full magazines. Using the block and tackle they had used to lower the paraffin drums through the hatch, they hoisted both Proteis into the DDC.
At that moment, a large Orca head appeared next to the three divers. Borysko nudged them gently and opened his mouth for a tongue scratch. They spent the next five minutes giving their total attention to the 12,000-pound cetacean.
It was only later that we all realized the Sirena explosion could have caused serious injury to Borysko. That was when we decided that somehow Borysko had figured this out and had distanced himself from the explosion before it happened.
We still had a problem before moving on to Pemmican Rock and the entrance to Bellot Strait. We did not know the status of the damaged Victor-III. Sergyi was fairly confident that he had damaged but not disabled the Soviet sub. According to him, the worst-case scenario was that the Victor-III had lost use of her main shaft. That left the two small propellers on the stern stabilizers right next to the hull. Together, they could move the sub at five knots. The skipper decided to send divers to assess the situation.
“If the Victor-III still there,” Sergyi said, “she will be able to detect our divers. That not good.” Sergyi then explained that he could disable the two Protei transponders and sneak up on the Victor-III without her being any the wiser.
“What about other Spetsnaz divers?” the skipper asked.
“Not likely,” Sergyi answered. “Morskoy Spetsnaz not normally on subs. When there, four-man team normal.”
The skipper briefed me over the Secure Gertrude. “What’s your opinion, Mac?” he asked.
“I have a lot of faith in Sergyi’s assessments,” I said, “but my instinct says they have more Spetsnaz divers. I think we should deactivate the transponders like Sergyi said, and Sergyi and Bill should go well armed with the confiscated weapons.”
“I concur,” the skipper said.
“BUT,” I added, “I want to go with them. Sergyi knows the Victor-III and Soviet diving procedures. Bill is our most qualified diver—that’s why he will soon be our next sat dive supervisor.” I paused. “And me…I’m more devious than the lot of them.”
“Really?” the skipper said. “Do I have to be concerned about that?”
I decided he was kidding and didn’t respond. Instead, I asked, “Will you put Sergyi and Bill under my in-water command for the excursion?”
I waited for a minute while I suspect he checked with Bob. “Mystic will be on Lyre in fifteen minutes,” he said. “Be ready to board and return here for the dive excursion.”
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15 See Operation Ice Breaker, the second book in the Mac McDowell Mission Series.
16 See Operation Ice Breaker, the second book in the Mac McDowell Mission Series.
Track of USS Teuthis & Lyre from the Tasmania Islands through Bellot Strait to Gulf of Boothia
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Threading the Needle
ON THE SEAFLOOR—THE TASMANIA ISLANDS
Bob Taggert and his crew had become really good at launching and retrieving Mystic and moving between Teuthis and Lyre. No more than thirty minutes following my Secure Gertrude conversation with the skipper, I joined Sergyi and Bill in the Egress Lock. We had the two Proteis, batteries fully charged, three APSs with three filled magazines (twenty-six rounds each), and two SPPs. Furthermore, we each had one of our own gas-powered dart guns strapped to our backs with ten darts each in leg bandolas. We were rigged for bear, although hopefully, not the polar kind.
Thinking ahead about possibilities, I obtained fifty feet of high-strength, stainless steel reinforced, jacketed cable from Eng and a hand-held cutter that could slice through it. I looped the cable over my head and right arm and stuffed the cutter in a leg pocket.
We dropped through the hatch, where Borysko immediately greeted us, checking each diver carefully. He recognized Sergyi but did not recognize either Bill or me. Sergyi scratched his tongue; Bill and I followed suit. That seemed to settle things for Borysko. He backed off and let us proceed.
I drove one unit, Sergyi, the other with Bill hanging on to the bar between Sergyi’s legs. Borysko accompanied us, although he darted to his polynya every few minutes for a breath of air. We had about a mile to go.
We proceeded without lights because we had no idea what lay ahead. About a half mile out, my homing indicator began to give me a reading. That meant two things: The Victor-III was still there, and we were headed in the right direction. Our total distance was about one-and-a-half nautical miles. I figured we were doing about four knots, so we had fifteen minutes left, give or take. Ten minutes later, I called a halt. I couldn’t see anything. It was like we were swimming in pitch black ink.
We huddled together, listening as carefully as possible. Borysko joined us after getting a gulp of air. He could not have understood what we were doing, but he was a natural hunter who excelled in coordinated stalking with other Orcas. That gave me an idea. I quietly explained my thought to Sergyi and Bill. Then we implemented the plan.
We parked both Proteis where we were, and then Sergyi circled around to the left and Bill to the right. I headed down the middle, swimming slowly with Borysko cruising slowly right above me. After about two minutes, Borysko darted to Sergyi and then to Bill, and then he returned to me for a moment before darting straight ahead, chittering as he swam.
Several seconds later, I saw a glow about ten feet over the bottom. Borysko stopped and watched me as I circled to my left and approached the light. As I moved closer, the bulk of the Victor-III loomed over me to the right. We had come on the massive sub nearly bow-on. The glow was down the starboard side, probably at the tandem screw. I held my APS at the ready but killing an unsuspecting diver who probably was just inspecting damage to his sub was not exactly on my bucket list.
The diver was outfitted like the other Spetsnaz divers we had encountered. An APS was slung over his rebreather backpack, and an SPP was holstered on his right leg. To my left, I caught a glimpse of Sergyi approaching cautiously. Borysko hovered above us at deck level, not making a sound. Bill was probably on the other side of the Victor-III. I was concerned about using our comms this close to an adversary. I suspected that our transmissions would be audible, although non-intelligible, close-up. I signaled Sergyi to circle behind the diver off the sub’s stern. I looked up to see what Borysko was doing and caught a glimpse of Bill hugging the upper side of the sub’s tapered stern. He was slowly moving past the giant rudder toward the tandem props. He spied me and indicated that he could see two divers.
That changed the calculus. I was not about to risk another of my divers, especially Sergyi or Bill. I held up my right clenched fist, signaling the guys to hold where they were. I faced Sergyi and drew my hand across my neck, and pointed to the diver he and I could see. He acknowledged. Then I drifted up until I could see the second diver. I trained my APS on him, pointed to my chest and my right arm, and then at Bill and my left. I held my clenched fist high and dropped it.
Three percussions sounded as one. Sergyi put a dart through the back of his diver’s head, killing him instantly. Bill and I sent darts into each of our diver’s arms, just below the shoulders. Seconds later, I jerked our diver’s full-face mask off and disabled his comms, hopefully preventing a report to his dive controller. Before he had a chance to react or breathe in water, I pressed his mask back against his face. Bill activated his headlamp. In the reflected light, I could see both pain and relief in the diver’s eyes. No panic—this guy was a pro.
Borysko drifted down to our level and opened his mouth for a tongue scratch. The Spetsnaz diver’s eyes widened with astonishment, but he maintained his composure. The diver clearly was in a lot of pain. I could tell that my dart had pierced his right humerus. Bill’s seemed to have penetrated muscle only.
I retrieved both divers’ APSs, handing them to Sergyi and Bill. Each diver also carried two spare APS magazines and an SPP with three spare four-dart loads. I strapped one SPP to my left leg, and Sergyi took the second. We added the spare loads to our own dart bandolas.
“Let’s get to the torpedo tubes,” I said on the circuit, feeling free to talk now that the divers had ceased being a threat.
We moved forward smartly, Sergyi and Bill escorting the wounded diver between them. It took us a bit under two minutes to reach the bow. In our head beams, we clearly saw the top starboard torpedo tube door open. That was how the divers exited the sub. Torpedo tube doors are mechanically interlocked so that it is physically impossible to open both the outer and inner doors simultaneously. I slipped several turns of my high-strength cable from the coil, retrieved my cutter, and cut a ten-foot length. I pointed to the open door hinges and gestured for Sergyi to assist me. Together, we intertwined the cable around the hinges so that the door would not close unless someone removed the cable.
“I think they normally use those tubes for diving,” I said, pointing to the open tube and the opposite one on the port side. “They’re the best level for entering and exiting from inside the sub.” I cut off another length of cable and handed it to Sergyi. “They lost comms with their divers. They will send out another diver to check on them. When they discover the starboard door jammed, they’ll use the port, but they will be highly suspicious and ready for anything.” I placed myself in a hover just above and behind the port door. “Sergyi, you take control of our wounded prisoner. Bill, you be ready to fire at the emerging diver, but not unless absolutely necessary.”
