cruises and spent 96 months in the submarine service. In January 1999, a presidential decree advanced him from Navy chief of staff to leadership of the Northern Fleet.
A barrel-chested, muscular, round-faced man with a full head of dark reddish hair, Popov wore a sharply creased summer uniform shirt with shoulder boards to designate his rank. He smoked cigarettes using a holder.
The flotilla should have given him a sense of satisfaction. The exercises were going well—especially the
Kursk
’s missile launch. Lyachin had been precisely on time with his shot and scored a devastating hit on the target.
Popov had personally seen the enthusiasm generated among his officers and men by the war games. Admittedly, the maneuvers were straining the budget, but the expense was worth it. These simulated military operations were particularly important with the talks in Moscow continuing. An excellent showing in the final hours of the effort would go far to help the Navy’s position.
Admiral Popov was inspired by the loyalty of his men. In spite of missing paydays and enduring adversities too numerous to mention, they stayed in the service. And somehow, they maintained their proficiency. That took dedication—which was another point to make in Moscow. His Northern Fleet could be the finest Navy in history. The desire was there, the will was there. Only the funding was missing.
While a man of his rank did not take sides, he must have wished the
Kursk
luck in her final hunt. Demonstrating the ability to defend an aircraft carrier against a determined submarine attack was fine. However, Russia only had one carrier on active service. With operating expenses for a carrier so high, it was a miracle they still had one afloat. The Navy did have submarines, though. So a successful sub attack on the carrier was, politically, a far better outcome.
A submarine sinking a carrier would show that the Russian Navy was capable of protecting the homeland. More, it would demonstrate that carriers were not as vital to modern naval warfare as most believed. If, that is, the enemy was confronted with vessels as deadly as the
Kursk
. The ability to nullify the usefulness of the West’s aircraft-carrier-based fleets was a blow struck at the heart of their tactics.
It would be unfair to aid Captain Lyachin in some way. Lyachin was a highly capable man and needed no assistance. Even so, one could hope for the most beneficial outcome.
By rules of the simulated war games, Captain Vladimir Kasatonov and the crew of the
Peter the Great
would consider themselves in hostile seas and under potential attack from 1130 hours to 1800 hours. At the end of that time frame, all precautions would be dropped and they would stand down, with the exercise completed.
The
Kursk
, as an additional safety measure, would then depart her defined attack area, break radio silence, and report to Fleet Command.
The procedure was straightforward. The
Kursk
was not to leave its perimeter during the operation and could not attack until the
Peter the Great
entered the prescribed zone.
If everyone followed the rules, the program was safe. Still, as any military man knew, there were dangers in coordinating huge submarines and ships in close proximity.
To make matters worse, American, NATO, and Norwegian vessels were also operating in the area. The Russians maintained a running tally of all foreign assets deployed for observing their activities. The result clearly demonstrated the interest other nations were taking in the Russian games. The U.S. had two subs, the USS
Toledo
and the USS
Memphis
, working near the maneuvers. And there was a U.S. TAGOS electronic surveillance ship, USNS
Loyal
, gathering underwater acoustical data, about 200 miles away. A Norwegian research vessel, the
Marjata
, also in the hunt, had similar capabilities. Finally, they had traced the British submarine, the HMS
Splendid
, as well. Five spies on and under the water plus more eyes in space and a sea floor