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"I agree. They were designed to fire missiles from the Arctic Circle. The flat missile deck could have been converted for carrying cargo. But there was a problem when I checked further. All six Typhoons were accounted for."
"All right. But I've never known you to give up easily, Rudi. What else do you have?"
Gu
"This shows a Soviet India-class sub photographed on its way to the Pacific from the Northern Fleet." He passed over several sheets of paper. "These are schematic diagrams. She's a diesel-electric, nearly three hundred fifty feet long, and was designed supposedly for underwater rescue. That semirecessed area abaft the sail was fitted out to carry a couple of deep-diving minisubs. In wartime they could be used for clandestine ops with Spetsnaz special forces brigades. Only two India-class subs were built. They were to have been broken up after the end of the Cold War. We've been able to verify that one was indeed scrapped. We don't know the fate of the other. I think it was used to hijack the NR-1."
"You sound quite sure of this, Rudi. Remember, our premise is still only a theory."
Gu
"Be my guest."
Gu
"As you know, the NR-1 had the capability to broadcast a television picture from the ocean floor," Gu
"I approved the NUMA funds myself. Great educational program. The pictures bounce off a satellite and into classrooms around the world. Teaches youngsters that the ocean is a lot more interesting than MTV. I understand the program has worked out well."
"Extremely well, in this case. This picture was sent from the NR-1 the day she disappeared."
Gu
Sandecker was sitting on the edge of his desk, arms folded. "Looks like the bow view from the sail cam," he said.
"That's right. Keep on watching. Right about now…"
A sharklike shadow loomed below the hull. Something much bigger than the NR-1 had come up from below. After a few minutes, the sub began to move forward at great speed until it was obscured by bubbles. The screen went fuzzy again.
"This picture was sent from the sub via satellite at exactly the time of her disappearance. It only ran a short while, as you can see, before it was shut down."
"Fascinating," Sandecker said. "Run it again, please."
Gu
"Does the White House have a copy of this video?" Sandecker said.
"The transmission came directly to NUMA. My guess is they haven't seen it."
"Good work, Rudi," the admiral said. "There's an important piece of the puzzle missing, however." He reached into the desk humidor and pulled out two cigars – he had them personally selected and rolled for him by the owner of a Dominican Republic plantation – and held one cigar above the other. "Assume the bottom stogie is much larger than the one on top. It comes up under the smaller boat. Then what?" He moved the top cigar away. "You see what I'm getting at. There might be a problem getting the smaller sub to play piggyback."
"It wouldn't be easy unless – "
"Unless the NR-1 were cooperating. Which Captain Logan wouldn't do unless he were forced to."
"Exactly my thoughts." Sandecker tossed Gu
"I understand there was a guest scientist aboard the NR-1," Sandecker said, after a moment's thought.
"That's right. I have the whole roster."
"Go over their backgrounds with a fine-tooth comb, especially the scientist's. In the meantime, let's try to find the India-class submarine. The navy keeps track of all operational Russian submarines, but I don't want to alert anyone to the fact that NUMA is still in this."
"I'll see if Yaeger can tap into the navy computer system."
"Why, Rudi," Sandecker said, studying the glowing ash on his cigar, "what a surprising thing to hear from a navy man. First in his class at the academy, too."
Gu
"I'm glad to hear you say that. Austin called me from Istanbul. He's assembling the Special Assignments Team to take another look at that abandoned submarine base."
"Does he think it has a co
"He didn't know about the missing sub until I told him. No, apparently he's been in contact with someone, an old Russian friend, who indicated that the base may have something to do with a supposed threat against the U.S."
"Terrorist activity?"
"I asked Kurt the same question. He only knows what the Russian told him, that the U.S. is in danger. A mining magnate named Razov seems to be involved, and the old base may hold the key to what is going on. Kurt's instincts are usually sound. This threat of his is all the more reason for NUMA to get involved."
"We can take a look at the area by satellite."
"We still need eyes on the ground."
"What about your promise to the president?"
"I only promised not to look for the NR-1. I never said anything about a Soviet sub base. Besides," Sandecker said, with a twinkle in his eye, "Austin is probably out of reach by now."
"I've heard that sunspot activity has been interrupting communications."
"We'll keep trying to establish contact, of course. The president is going fly-fishing in Montana, but I expect he'll return in a hurry if the Russian government falls."
Gu
Sandecker walked over to the window and looked out over the Potomac. Afer a moment, he turned and said, "Do you know how Sid Sparkman made his fortune?"
"Sure, he made millions in mining."
"Correct. As did Razov."
"Coincidence?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. There's often a worldwide good ol' boy network in certain areas of industry. It's not out of the question that they know each other. Unless we learn that the threat is imminent – I suggest we keep this conversation to ourselves for now."
"Are you suggesting that – "
"There's a co
Gu
Sandecker smiled grimly, his eyes as hard as topaz. "It wouldn't be the first time."
11
THE BLACK SEA
AUSTIN STROLLED ALONG the Bosporus past the ferry terminal and sleek tour vessels until the smell of decaying fish told his nostrils he was near the working waterfront. Raucous squadrons of gulls grew more numerous as he approached the ragtag fleet of fishing boats nuzzled up to the dock. With their paint-flaked woodwork and corroded metal, the sea-beaten rust buckets seemed to remain afloat by a miracle of levitation. Austin stopped at one exception, a solid-looking wooden boat that appeared to have under- gone heroic maintenance. The black hull and white wheelhouse gleamed with many coats of paint, and the brightwork was liberally soaked with oil.