FOURTEEN

Old Days

 

Tony had returned to the bridge after his checkup by Jessica and sat with the skipper, who was using the MC to run checks on the entire ship, from the power plant to water production. He looked up when he saw Tony and said hello.

“How’s it going, Skipper?”

“Excellent. I have to tell ya, this vessel has been nothing short of amazing. It will change everything going forward.”

“Yeah, I said the same thing. When the navy starts using this technology on their subs, the Russians and Chinese are smoked.” Tony sat down. “I gotta tell you—it feels so weird to be down here and be so relaxed. I feel like we’re on vacation, know what I mean?”

Jim smiled. “Sure do. On the subs, there’s always that feeling of tension and being on duty all the time. This is total recreation compared to that. How many times did you think you were gonna pop a fish at some Ruskie sub over the years?”

Tony laughed. “Plenty. I can remember a cat-and-mouse game that lasted three whole days with a Soviet Akula-class sub.” He leaned closer. “Classified—can we talk?”

Jim nodded. As two submariners, they shared a bond—and information—they’d never share with outsiders, a firing squad notwithstanding.

Tony spoke barely above a whisper. “These two Akulas were off the coast of Cali, so we go after them to tail ’em, right? So they split up and the skipper picks the one headed north. We tailed it for two days and they had no clue. On day three, they must have picked us up on their array, and they start taking all kinds of evasive action. The skipper knows the water around those parts and he’s laughing the whole time, saying how this Ruskie captain is gonna get his guys killed haulin’ ass through the canyon like that.”

“Canyons up north?”

“Yeah—you know the spots, right?”

“Hell, yeah. If you go deeper than eight hundred, you better be going five knots.”

“How about twenty? This Ruskie is trying to make a run through the canyon and he’s got her half opened up. The skipper is trying to hang with her, but careful, ya know? And the Akula is gaining some distance but we have her and we’re not sweatin’ it. So the skipper, all of a sudden, orders dead slow, and we have no idea why he’s gonna give up. We watch the Akula moving away from us, and then wham—she’s down, man.”

“What happened?”

“The skipper knew that canyon run inside out. There’s a spot where the current runs wicked through a narrow channel. At high speed, it can move you five, six degrees on a dime. The Ruskies put their nose right into the canyon wall. We actually surfaced and called for a DSRV. I heard later that the president called the premier to tell him they had a sub in US waters that was down. Offered to assist. Ruskies denied the sub being there and let those guys die somewhere down in the canyon. Coulda been us, ya know? It was creepy, man—‘enemy’ or not. I was on sonar. Had my headset turned way up. I could hear ’em screaming inside their can before we surfaced. Banging metal wrenches on pipes looking for help. I still can hear ’em. Fucked up, man.”

Jim sat back and folded his arms, staring at the ceiling. “So many times I’ve had that nightmare. Flooding. The panic. The helplessness. If you let it, it will cripple you and keep you topside. You gotta let it go. But I know exactly what you mean. You know what Akula it was?”

“Skipper guessed it was the Gdanuslav, but we never had confirmation. All I know is, I was glad our skipper knew the canyon inside out. Anyway—I never told anybody about that. Still classified. But I figured it was okay with you, know what I mean?”

“It’s cool. Just don’t repeat it again, and we never had the conversation. You good now? At twenty thousand?”

“Yeah, yeah. I had plenty of other tours after that. I’m good. Just was thinking about it I guess when we started talking about what a breeze this post is.”

Jim smiled. “We just started, Tony. Let’s see how much of a breeze it is after a year.”

The ping of a large sonar contact interrupted them, and Tony quickly hit the camera record button as the image popped up on their large monitor. A twenty-five-foot sleeper shark cruised effortlessly past the camera, inspecting the huge white intruder to its ocean floor. They watched in silence as the giant fish examined them and disappeared into the depths.

“Fish geeks woulda liked that one,” said Tony. “I’ll shoot ’em the video clip. Make their whole day.”

Jim smiled. “You see the fish they caught down in the lab yet?”

“No, I heard it was some eel or something.”

“Slime eels and a fish. The eels made a mess of the containment tank. I think they’re going to open it tomorrow if you want to watch.”

“Yeah, um—no thanks. They can send me the video of that.”

“Pussy.”

“I like my fish in a can, like God intended, thank you very much,” said Tony with a grin. “Slime eel? I don’t think so.”