notice.”
“Understood, Comrade Admiral.”
“I will be relying on you utterly, Viktor Ivanovich,” Karelin said.
“Everything depends on the Typhoons reaching deep water safely and
undetected.
Other PLARB submarines will be dispatched as they become available, but
your two Typhoons offer us our best chance. They are the quietest
submarines in the fleet and the most reliable. If any vessels can evade
the American blockade, it is they.”
“The Americans will have their attack submarines positioned off the
mouth of the Kola Inlet, waiting for them to come out.”
“That has been allowed for. ASW forces will sweep the entire area
during the attack. As will our own attack subs out of Severodvinsk.”
“I see.” Marchenko hesitated, still studying the map.
“There is something?”
“Only a small question. Why must the Typhoons break out at all?” He
gestured toward his office window, at the massive blast doors beyond.
“They could launch on any city in the Union from right outside those
doors.”
“Because they will need time, Comrade Rear Admiral, while we deliver our
ultimatum and while Leonov considers his options. And sea room to
maneuver while that time is passing. Since the Blues now have the
necessary launch codes, if they are insane enough to launch, then we can
expect the facilities here to be their first target.”
“I … see.” It was obvious Marchenko had not thought of that
possibility.
“These submarine shelters were designed to withstand a nuclear blast, of
course,” Karelin went on, “but that would not help us if the mountain
over our heads collapses across the entrance. If they can reach their
strategic bastions, however, safely beneath the Arctic ice …”
“As in the grand game we’ve played with the Americans all these years,”
Marchenko said, completing the thought. “Leonov and his people will not
know where they are, or when they might surface and fire.”
“Leonov will be forced to surrender or see his major cities, staging
areas, and transportation hubs incinerated one by one. Order will be
restored to a Soviet Union reborn.”
“Tell me one thing more, Comrade Admiral,” Marchenko said, leaning back
in his chair with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Just between
you and me.”
“If I can.”
“Back at the Naval Academy, and later at various staff planning
exercises, we ran endless war games covering precisely this sort of
situation, an attack by Frontal Aviation against an American carrier
battle group approaching Russian waters. I always had the impression
that the results were cooked. To keep the officers handling the Russian
side from looking bad.”
“That sort of thing happens. I hear they have the same problem at the
Pentagon.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. But tell me, what do you think? Can an
attack of this sort destroy a carrier battle group? Their defenses are
…
formidable.”
Karelin thought about it for a moment. “I will tell you, Viktor
Ivanovich, I’m not sure. In this case, of course, it is not necessary
to destroy the Americans … but only to disorient them long enough for
our PLARBs to get away.”
“Of course. But I was curious about your estimation of the outcome of
the engagement itself. It should be a test of a classic war-gaming
scenario.”
“Key to a Yankee carrier battle group are two vessels,” Karelin said,
“and two vessels alone. The aircraft carrier itself, naturally, which
is the group’s whole reason for being, and the group’s Ticonderoga-class
Aegis cruiser, which serves as a command and control ship for the
formation, coordinating its maneuvers and anti-air defenses.
“Operation Ognevoy will muster some two to three hundred aircraft,
including advanced heavy bombers armed with antiship cruise missiles, as
well as surface-attack aircraft. Combined with these will be
cruise-missile attacks both from shore installations and from
submarines.
“What do I think? I think that the battle group’s brain–the Aegis
cruiser–and its heart–the aircraft carrier–will both be overwhelmed,
completely obliterated in the first wave. The survivors–the
destroyers, frigates, and submarines–will flee, or be mopped up at our
leisure.
“And our Typhoons will be free in the Barents Sea, ready to carry out
their orders.”
“And those are, Comrade Admiral? Will they be told to launch without
warning, or will they threaten first?”