Page 93 of Enemy Within

“Tubes one and two ready, sir.”

“Make sure our torpedoes hit them and don’t get scrambled by the ice,” Anderson barked. He backed off Munoz and went to his position by the periscope. “Confirm your solution and shoot.”

The deck beneath Ethan’s feet shuddered as the torpedoes launched fromHonolulu’s belly. Two new sonar pings blazed across the screen.

“Close the outer doors and reload.” Anderson’s voice rang across the Conn. “Flood tubes three and four. Helm, ahead full. Those bastards are going to shoot up our torpedoes’ wake, and I won’t be here for them when they do. Get us out of here and under the ice.” Anderson’s gaze flicked over the Conn, finally landing on Jack and Ethan. “We’re going to lose them under the ice cap, Mr. President. Get in deep water and under fast ice. We’ll run like hell.”

“What aboutBozeman?” Jacinto spoke, still gripping the edge of his plotting table. His hair stood straight up, mussed after the tumble and rumble during the torpedoes’ detonation just behindHonolulu.

“Bozemanwas behind us in Herald Canyon. With the noise we just made, she definitely knows about Sierra One. Commander Roberts is good. He’ll hunt them down while we keep going.” Anderson took a breath and turned back to Munoz and Boomer. “Range?”

“Twenty seconds left on torpedoes one and two. Fifteen. Ten.”

“Boomer, sonar on audio.”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

Audio filled the Conn, a bubbling, hissing undersea warble that changed in a split second. A smear, like greased bacon sliding on a pan, and then a cannon shot, a rumbling boom, and a lion’s roar, and then another. Ethan felt like he was in some kind of nightmarish delirium, where lions roamed in an undersea world. Had he fallen down a rabbit hole?

And then, the sound of a crystal chandelier crashing to the ground, thousands and thousands of shards of glass bursting apart, like all the glass in the world was exploding in the same moment. The sonar display went off like fireworks, crackling lines and bursts of color, exploding sounds in all frequency ranges.

“Ice.” Anderson frowned. “Did we hit Sierra One?”

“Can’t say.” Boomer worked the controls, staring at the screen. “Getting a lot of reflection off that ice keel, and the ridges in the thick cap beyond it. Sierra One picked the perfect place to hide, Captain. I’m having a hard time making anything out, especially with all that ice detonating.”

Anderson’s lips pursed, but he said nothing. He glared at his screens and then turned to Jack and Ethan. “We survived,” he said, his voice low. “More than what our Russian friends on the bottom of the ocean can say.”

Again, all eyes flicked to Sergey. He stood by the weapons station, grasping the handrails behind Munoz’s chair. Sasha hovered beside him, one hand seeming to disappear on his back. Sergey looked drawn, exhausted by more than the physical exertions of the battle.

Sasha looked ready to puke. He stared at Sergey like Sergey was the center of his world, the axis he revolved around and the only thing he was still standing for.

“Maintain course across the Arctic Abyss.” Finally, Anderson exhaled, his shoulders sagging just slightly as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Boomer, what’s the ice look like?”

“Fast ice, Captain.” Boomer’s voice was still shaky. His hands trembled over his screen, but he kept going. “We’re under the cap. No ridges or keels on my scope.”

Anderson nodded. “How’s our rudder?”

Roller spoke through clenched teeth. He and the helmsman were both holding on to the yoke, their arms and shoulders straining as sweat dripped down their faces. “Struggling. We’re pushing twenty-three knots, sir. We can’t keep this up for long.”

“Boomer, find us a polynya. We need to surface, and fast.”

FAST ICE WAS AN Arctic submariner’s dream.

The hardened ice cap above, more than eighty feet thick, was solid, firm enough to withstand the drifts and slams of ice that built up from Siberia and pushed into the Arctic Ocean, pressing over the top of the world on its way to Canada. Nearer to Siberian shores, the crash of ice sheets slamming into the polar ice cap sent deep ice ridges down into the seas, blades the size of city blocks that a submarine could slam into, or shear herself apart on.

But over the top of the world, the bottom fell out beneathHonoluluas she passed over a triplet of plunging basins. The Makarov Basin, the Polar Drop, and the Nansen Basin, where the ocean floor was a terrifying seventeen thousand feet or more beneath them. Ancient undersea mountain ranges divided the basins, soaring ridges that rose up and tried to tickleHonolulu’s belly. They were in such deep waters that even with the thick ice above and the mountain ridge below,Honolulusailed through the waters with open seas above and beneath her.

It was ball-shrivelingly terrifying. If anything went wrong beneath the ice cap, they’d plummet to the bottom and vanish from history forever.

Fast ice also went on for what seemed like an eternity, even more so with a stuck rudder and two straining helmsmen. Anderson rotated men in to hold the shuddering yoke stable as each team drenched themselves with sweat, struggling to hold a steady course.

Finally, Boomer shouted that the ice above was thinning and that he’d found a polynya, a section of ice-free waters in the middle of the vast Arctic. Or, almost a polynya.

“Brash ice and slurry, Captain.” Floating icebergs and slushy ice like a melted snow cone.

“We can punch through.” Anderson turned to Roller, back at the helm. “Bring us to a stop under that opening. Roll into the jammed rudder, and then reverse engines and push her into the current. I want us dead in the water. Keep us trim.”

Roller nodded and popped another three pieces of nicotine gum into his mouth. His jaw never stopped moving, a manic chewing that made him seem like a hamster. But, he brought the boat to a standstill, just inches off the center of the polynya.