Seas of Crisis by Joe Buff Read Free Book Online Page A

neutrals were words on paper, Jeffrey reminded himself. Russia didn’t have a stellar record putting them into practice in the field. In 1983, when local commanders ordered Korean Airlines Flight 007, from JFK to Seoul, be shot down by a fighter—without properly verifying the 747’s identity first—the Kremlin was humiliated before an angry world. Hundreds of innocent civilians were killed. The blunder helped bring down the Soviet Union. Though that was almost thirty years ago, the newest Russian Federation regime was autocratic, and talked very tough about self-defense, with rising investments in hardware to back up the talk. It was unclear if local forces would open fire on an unidentified undersea contact.
    Jeffrey was second-guessing his own decision, too late. The navigation plot showed Challenger miles beyond the treaty line already.
    Bell ordered several more course changes to get the ship into position to transit the Bering Strait. Jeffrey’s displays showed Challenger nearing the mouth of the Russian-side channel. The constricted part, the strait itself, was only three miles long from start to finish before widening out again, so depending on Bell’s tactics they could be through it very quickly. He’d chosen to aim for a path about two-thirds of the way from Big Diomede to the protruding knob at the tip of Siberia. Closer to the mainland, the water should be cloudier from soil erosion and thaw runoff. The Russian side was also more nutrient-rich—more productive biologically—and phytoplankton could turn the surface yellow-brown or milky white; even droppings from numerous sea birds helped obscure submerged visibility.
    This would make it harder to detect Challenger via optical sensors: dipping blue-green lasers called LIDAR, or airborne cameras linked to supercomputer software—called LASH—able to notice anomalous color gradations and shapes deep underwater.
    Out of curiosity, and to audit the proper preparedness of Challenger ’s brand-new command team, Jeffrey called up a copy of the main weapons status page. He saw that Bell had four tubes loaded with high-explosive Mark 48 Improved ADCAP torpedoes, the standard heavyweight fish of the U.S. submarine fleet. The other four tubes held Mark II brilliant decoys, which could be programmed to imitate Challenger, or another sub, by giving off an acoustic signature meant to be noticed by the enemy.
    He typed a message to Bell: “Why no off-board probes to scout ahead?” Remote-controlled probes could be deployed through the torpedo tubes, too. Similar in size and shape to an ADCAP, they were fitted with a mix of active and passive sonars, passive photonic imagers, and active laser line-scan cameras.
    Bell answered right away, typing, “Path here known clear of shipwrecks.” A pause. “You’re welcome to stand by my console.”
    Jeffrey got up and eased forward through the compartment’s cramped left aisle. He stopped next to Bell’s console, with his back touching the sonar supervisor’s chair. Bell turned from his horizontal screens and looked up at Jeffrey. He responded to the query more, his voice lowered to be barely audible. Bell spoke softly mainly to not break his crew’s concentration on their console displays, since a threat could appear out of nowhere at any time. But some of it was purely mental: at ultraquiet people walked and talked and even thought on pins and needles.
    “Because probes might be detected, Commodore, and Russian subs wouldn’t use them in their own safe corridor. It would show right away we’re not friendlies. Besides, in these conditions our own probe sensors in passive-only won’t give us much we can’t get better on Challenger herself.”
    Sessions joined in from the seat next to Bell, his soft features softened further in the dim red lighting. “The Captain and I discussed it, Commodore.” While Jeffrey had been in the wardroom, apparently. “Since we can’t afford to radiate, we can’t use the acoustic