CARRIER 6: COUNTDOWN By Keith Douglass

masked the stealthy sounds of soft-gliding submarines.

Suddenly, he snapped upright, every muscle taut. “Control room!

Sonar!”

“Captain. Whatcha got, Ekhart?”

“Flushing noises, Captain, followed by ice breaking. I think Sierra

Nine has just come up under a polynya.”

Flushing sounds meant ballast tanks being blown. Sierra Nine was

surfacing. Polynya was Russian for a lead in the ice, either an open

pool or an area where the water was only thinly iced over. A

ballistic-missile sub could not fire its warloads through the ice. It

would have to surface first before launching.

Which appeared to be precisely what Sierra Nine was doing.

1415 hours

Kandalaksha Command Center

Kola Peninsula

“Message from Captain First Rank Dobrynin, Comrade Admiral,” the aide

said, handing Karelin the message flimsy. “Slavnyy Oktyabrskaya

Revolutsita is in position.”

Karelin glanced at the message, then handed it back. “At last,” he

said.

“It is time.”

He would have been happier if both of Admiral Marchenko’s Typhoons had

made it out to the open sea, but one should be enough. His principal

concern was American attack submarines in the area. Russian naval

planning for her nuclear missile boats called for placing them in

so-called “strategic bastions,” in secret regions of the Barents and

White seas and in the Arctic Ocean where a few PLARBs could be protected

by a large number of fast and powerful attack boats, the submarines the

West called “Alfas,”

“Akulas,” and “Victors.”

Karelin hadn’t dared work his Typhoons into regular Northern Fleet

planning, however. If it had become known before the fact that

Krasilnikov’s faction was planning a nuclear strike against the Rodina

herself, even if it was targeted against Leonov’s rebels, there could

have been mutiny throughout the fleet, perhaps even an attempt by

dissidents to stop the Revolutsita before Dobrynin could carry out his

orders. A Typhoon could be sunk by an Alfa as easily as by a Los

Angeles. But Operation Curtain of Fire appeared to have been successful

in blocking the Americans from the Kola Inlet approaches.

Dobrynin’s message made no mention of unknown sonar contacts. He

appeared to have reached his firing position midway between Spitsbergen

and Nova Zemlya undetected.

Taking a notebook from his pocket, Karelin opened to a blank page and

carefully printed the words “Crimson Winter Fire,” tore the sheet out,

and handed it to the aide. “Transmit this to the Kremlin,” he said.

“Priority One-One, Urgent.”

Krasilnikov would receive it within minutes. Then the critical phase of

Audacious Flame could truly begin.

1428 hours

Command room/attack center

Russian PLARB Slavnyy Oktyabrskaya Revolutsita

Captain First Rank Vsevolod Nikolaevich Dobrynin leaned over

Revolutsita’S primary communications console, listening to the voice of

Marshal Valentin Krasilnikov coming through the speakers.

“We fight for the future of our people, of our Motherland, of our

revolution,” Krasilnikov’s voice said, faint but discernible through the

blasting white noise of static. This far north, atmospherics frequently

played havoc with radio broadcasts.

“Sacrifices must be made if we are to secure our place in history as

saviors of the Socialist Republic, even sacrifices made in fire and

blood.”

Most holy God, Dobrynin thought … and he had to savagely repress the

urge to cross himself. He’s actually going to do it.

Dobrynin had not had a religious thought for years. He’d been a good

Communist ever since his years in the Leningrad Komsomolets. He’d even

been a good Communist during the hard, lean years of Yeltsin’s treason,

though he’d kept a low profile and been careful not to call undue

attention to his beliefs.

But Krasilnikov’s words had shaken him so badly that somehow the hated

religious instruction pressed upon him in secret by his mother had

surfaced like some broaching sea monster. He felt ashamed.

“Traitors have betrayed our Motherland, allowing her to be taken hostage

and raped by foreigners and capitalist opportunists. They have taken up

arms against the people and against the government which at long last

offers hope and stability in a time of economic chaos and ruin. We

offer you, who have taken up arms against our sovereign Motherland, one

hour in which to recant your capitalist heresies, one hour to seize the

traitors who have betrayed our country, Leonov and his cronies, and lay

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