bridge, smashed into the aft bulkhead, which now seemed like a floor
beneath them. Holden was vaguely aware of the unnatural motion of the ship
as it gyrated around on its stern, now truly resembling the cork it had
been imitating earlier.
Someone landed on his back, the impact forcing the breath out of his
lungs. Holden felt two ribs crack. The deck–no, the bulkhead–careened
crazily underneath him.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity suspended in the air, the bow
of the ship headed down toward the ocean. Holden was flung forward again,
this time hitting the glass window in the forward part of the bridge. He
felt it crack, quiver underneath him, the steel safety mesh embedded in it
preventing it from shattering completely.
But steel mesh couldn’t keep water out. The bow and forecastle
plunged down, water washing over the bridge and covering most of the
forward part of the ship. It quickly filled the bridge, prying Holden off
the shattered window and tossing him around on its roiling surface along
with the other flotsam and jetsam on the bridge. Holden flailed, barely
conscious, trying to lift his head far enough out of the water to try to
breath. It was cold, so cold. Thirty-four degrees, he remembered from
yesterday’s meteorological report. Survival time–well, in these waters,
it was measured in seconds rather than in minutes. No danger of living
long enough to ever see a shark or any other leviathan of the deep
approaching.
Holden struggled bitterly to hold on to consciousness, knowing he had
only seconds left to live. He had just managed to suck in a deep breath
when the last bit of his consciousness faded.
SS Serenity twisted and rolled in the waves for two minutes longer.
The water was already lapping over her bow and washing around the decks.
Suddenly, she gave one last shudder and rolled to port, dumping her
superstructure into the water. Her starboard side remained visible for a
few minutes longer, until one particularly large wave washed over her and
shoved her down into the depths. By that time, the core body temperature
of the crew and scientists on the ship had already slipped well below the
levels needed to maintain consciousness. They all drowned, not a single
one of them aware that they were breathing seawater instead of air.
1237 Local
Kilo 31
Rogov stood now in the middle of the control room, occupying the same
position the captain had just hours earlier. The stilled, troubled looks
on the crew members’ faces told him he had not yet solidified his command
of the boat. But he would, and it would be sooner than these young men
ever suspected. His Cossack ancestors had learned long ago that fear was a
more potent motivator than any pretentious ideals of friendship or mutual
respect. These men would understand that soon.
He stared at the sonar screen, examining what he saw there with the
rudimentary amounts of knowledge he had. While he was a quick learner, his
time on board the submarine had been too limited to allow him to develop
much expertise in interpreting the arcane lines and symbols that streaked
across the screen.
“What is that?” he demanded, pointing at a jagged-looking cluster of
lines on the screen.
The technician swallowed nervously. “An-an explosion, sir,” he said
nervously. “Some distance away from US.”
“The cause?” Rogov demanded.
“I thought-I thought I heard a torpedo just before that. Maybe. I
can’t be sure.”
Rogov slammed his beefy hand into the side of the technician’s head,
knocking him out of the chair. The technician sprawled on the deck,
looking up at the Cossack. Fear glazed his eyes.
Rogov regarded him levelly. “Next time, you will not be so slow to
bring significant matters to my attention,” he suggested. “You are not
indispensable–none of us are. If you ever lie to me or tell me less than
the complete truth–or, as in this instance, neglect to bring some matter
to my attention–I will kill you.”
The technician nodded, a bare twitch of his head. Rogov pointed at
the chair. “Resume your duties.” He turned to the rest of the control
room crew, letting his cold gaze wander over them, impaling each one where