Scorpion in the Sea by P.T. Deutermann Read Free Book Online Page A

in the Caribbean. It will return soon to its base at Mayport. Our intelligence service knows approximately when the carrier is due back to this port, but not precisely when. We shall be informed in time to prepare. Until we receive that signal, our mission is to explore our attack patrol area and to remain undetected!”
    He paused for an instant.
    “I have told you all this before,” he reminded them.
    He paused again to sip from a glass of cold tea. None of the others moved.
    “If we are discovered before that date,” he continued, “all of this is for nothing. Our journey of four thousand miles, the hours and hours of training, the deception of all the Soviet advisors in our homeland, the stress of living submerged for endless days, the danger of discovery from all the American warships which train in this area, all for nothing . This crew has been handpicked, carefully indoctrinated, confirmed to be politically reliable, and supposedly trained to the highest degree of operational readiness. This submarine has been given every piece of replacement machinery we needed, and the other five boats of our Navy have been stripped as required to do this. We have their
spare parts. We have their working torpedoes. We have some of their crew.”
    His voice was controlled, but flat with menace. The tension in his face made the words seem like bullets.
    “This mission has been three years in the planning. Three years. In great secrecy. At great expense. No one in the rest of our Navy knows where we are. Our Soviet advisors do not know—they think only that we are loose in the Gulf of Sidra. All of the Soviet submarine advisors have been taken to the South for a special hunting expedition, away from the base, away from the decoy that lies at our berth at Ras Hilal. If we are discovered out here by the Americans, 100 miles off the American coast, hiding in their own Navy operating areas, it will all be for nothing. And they will kill us. They will hunt us down and kill us, because our very presence will be an affront to the pride of the great American Navy. So.”
    He paused, moved back in his chair, and unsnapped the holster on his right hip. Behind him the Musaid tensed. Every Commanding Officer in the armed forces carried a sidearm, even aboard ship. He withdrew a large Russian automatic pistol, and set it down on the wardroom table. Four pairs of eyes looked down at it, and then back at him. He gestured towards the pistol with his chin.
    “I will personally execute,” he declared, “the next individual who does what the watch officer did this morning: exposes this mission, and this boat. He lost depth control less than a mile from a fishing boat at morning twilight. If anyone on that boat crew saw us, we may be in desperate trouble. Our only possible salvation is that their Navy will not believe it, and we must depend on their arrogance for that. Do you understand me? Shall I demonstrate my resolve for you?”
    The officers did not know whether to shake their heads or nod. They remained silent. Finally the Deputy spoke up.
    “Your orders are clear. We shall inform the entire crew. It will not happen again.”
    “Very well. I have nothing more to say.”

    They were interrupted by a tapping on the wardroom door coaming.
    “Enter,” ordered the Captain.
    A petty officer from the control room pushed aside the curtain, and entered nervously. The tension in the room was palpable. He handed the Captain a contact report, his eyes widening as he saw the pistol. The Captain opened the piece of paper, and scanned it quickly. His face darkened.
    “Very well. I have seen it. I will be there at once.”
    The messenger withdrew, fumbling with the curtains as he did so. The Captain looked around at the four faces again.
    “Now we shall see. We have detected an American destroyer which has begun to ping, to the north of us, where we were this morning when this collective mistake was made.”
    The political officer wet his lips, and