Fractured: V Plague Book 15 by Dirk Patton

Author:Dirk Patton
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Voodoo Dog Publishing LLC
Published: 2017-06-29T06:00:00+00:00

31

The area of the South Pacific off Australia’s east coast is a vast, empty stretch of water called the Tasman Sea. Leaving Sydney Harbour, the seafloor plummets to nearly five thousand meters, or well over sixteen thousand feet. Known to mariners as the Tasman Abyssal Plain, the sheer scope, size and depth of the area makes the prospect of detecting a very stealthy submarine a daunting one at best.

For two days, the North Carolina had remained deep, far below the point where the cold water of the depths meets the warmer surface layer. Creeping along at no more than five knots, the boat was nearly silent. So quiet, in fact, that unless an enemy was within a few hundred yards, there was no chance the big American sub would be detected. But the opposite of that was also true. The suspected Russian boomer they were hunting was every bit as quiet and had no reason to be in motion.

This knowledge tortured Adrienne, who despite appearing calm to the officers and crew, was a bundle of raw nerves on the inside. The water was far too deep for their prey to be sitting on the ocean floor. At best, a submarine the size of the North Carolina, and her prey, could dive to a depth of two-thousand feet before running the very real risk of being crushed by the incredible pressures of the deep ocean.

That meant that if the Russian was indeed in the general area, he was very likely simply hovering in the water. Still and silent. Waiting for the order to launch his deadly cargo of nuclear tipped ICBMs. And if the North Carolina happened to sail right past the unmoving enemy, there was a chance they’d be detected and the first indication would be a panicked shout from the sonar room that torpedoes were inbound.

The crew wasn’t much better off than Adrienne. To mitigate the risk of unintended noise that could be transmitted through the hull and into the water, compromising their presence to enemy sonar, anyone that wasn’t absolutely necessary to the operation of the boat was restricted to his rack. Meals were cold as the galley was shut down and not even showers were permitted.

After nearly forty-eight hours, the crew was growing restless. It was only the discipline instilled in them over the years that prevented outright complaint. That, and the knowledge that even if they were doing nothing other than lying in bed all day, they were contributing to the mission.

“Ma’am.”

Adrienne, seated in the Control Room, looked up from a chart of the area displayed on her iPad to see Master Chief Petty Officer Simon Lee, Chief of the Boat, standing a proper distance away. He was the most senior NCO on the sub and, even though he’d never gone to Annapolis or worn officer’s rank, was more respected than any other person aboard with the possible exception of the Captain.

“What’s up, COB?” she asked, putting the tablet down and rubbing her tired eyes.

“Begging your pardon, ma’am, but the crew’s gettin’ a bit restless.

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