reserves, an adaptability, a cleverness, not accounted for in the
original planning. Too, weapons thought to give ninety-per-cent-plus
accuracy were later found to be sixty-percent accurate or less. Men
grew tired or careless. Or discouraged.
Of course, the same morale problems would be affecting the other side as
well. One of the real challenges of military strategy was knowing when
the enemy had reached the end of his reserves, to the point where one
more small push might topple his seemingly faultless defenses and bring
them crashing down.
Which side, he wondered, would break first in this contest?
1319 hours
Intruder 504
Over the Kola Inlet
“CAG?” Willis Payne twisted in his seat, trying to see behind and above
the low-flying A-6. “What the shit is he doing out here?”
“Slumming?” Sunshine replied, her face buried in her radar scope. “Or
maybe they’re really getting hard up back in Ops. They’re sending in
the REMFs.”
“Hey, lady, from what I’ve heard, Magruder’s no rear-echelon mother-”
“Aw, shit, he’s a four-striper, ain’t he? Sits at a desk, writes up
fitness reports, fills out requisitions, wipes noses. Coming up on nine
miles to Polyamyy. Weapons armed. Pickle’s hot.”
“Rog. Listen, I hear that guy was flying the Hornet that took down the
Kreml last year. You know, the big Russian carrier? The guy’s got more
medals than you could push with zone-five burners, and a combat record
as long as Jefferson’s flight deck. He’s not a prick and he’s a damned
hot aviator.
That makes the son of a bitch fuckin’ A-okay in my book!”
“I COPY.”
“Why’re you so bitter about four-stripers anyway?”
“Oh, I don’t know. The morale aboard the Jefferson’s gotten pretty grim
lately.”
“The morale aboard the Jefferson sucks.”
“Like I said. Maybe I just figured it was his fault.”
“Shit, guys like him may be all that’s holding Jefferson’s people
together right now. You should’ve seen him at the Blue Nose initiation
last week.”
“The what?”
“Uh, never mind. Old news. Whatcha got on the scope?”
“Lots of stuff coming up. Inlets to the right. You should be seeing
some smokestacks up ahead. That’ll be Polyamyy.”
“Got it. God, there’s a lot of smoke.”
“That won’t stop us. I’m switching to FLIR.”
The Intruder shrieked south toward Russia’s most vital submarine
facilities.
1319 hours
Tretyevo Peschera
Near Polyamyy, Russia
The huge, massive barrier separating the Third cavern from the outside
world had slid ponderously up and out of the way. Beyond, sunlight
danced on the waters of the Polyamyy Inlet.
Holding his binoculars to his eyes, squinting against the dazzling
light, Chelyag picked out some of the submarines that had been moored
outside the sheltering rock walls of the cavern. That was Kolosov’s
boat, a humpbacked PLARB of the type known to the West as a Delta IV.
The boat was listing thirty degrees against its pier and had settled
somewhat by the bow. It looked like a cruise missile had arrowed in
just ahead of the sail.
Damn! Over there was Lovchikov’s boat, one of the fast-attack subs.
Known as the Alfa in the West, those high-technology boats were so
expensive the Russians called them Zolotaya Ryba, the Golden Fish. God,
what had they done to it? The sail crumpled, the periscopes bent like
matchsticks. That Golden Fish would never swim the ocean depths again.
And Leninskiy Nesokrushi Pravda would be in no better condition very
soon, if Karelin did not honor his promise to send additional Frontal
Aviation interceptors.
“Clear the weather bridge,” he snapped. “Everyone below.”
A spiral staircase, incongruously trimmed with wooden railings, led down
from the weather bridge, through massive double hulls and all the way to
Pravda’s attack center, which rested between and astride the Typhoon’s
side-by-side inner hulls like a saddle on a swaybacked horse.
“Captain on deck!” a rating cried as Chelyag stepped off the ladder.
From consoles around the compartment, pale faces watched him, some
expectant, some fearful. “Missile Officer!” he barked.
“Sir!”
“Missile status.”
“Hatch number one is open, Captain. Prelaunch check is complete, and
all codes have been verified and authenticated. The missile is targeted
and ready to fire.”
“Very well. Stand by. We will launch as soon as we are clear of the