The Cardinal of the Kremlin - By Tom Clancy Page 0,231
so."
"Aye aye, Cap'n."
The Captain turned around. "I have the conn," he announced.
"Captain has the conn," the officer of the deck agreed.
"Diving Officer, pump out three thousand pounds. We're taking her off the bottom. Engine room, stand by to answer bells."
"Aye." The diving officer, who was also Chief of the Boat, gave the necessary orders. Electric trim pumps ejected a ton and a half of saltwater, and Dallas slowly righted herself. Mancuso looked around. The submarine was at battle stations. The fire-control tracking party stood ready. Ramius was with the navigator. The weapons-control panels were manned. Below in the torpedo room, all four tubes were loaded, and one was already flooded.
"Sonar, conn. Anything to report?" Mancuso asked next.
"Negative, conn. Nothing at all, sir."
"Very well. Diving Officer, make your depth nine-zero feet."
"Nine-zero feet, aye."
They had to get off the bottom before giving the submarine any forward movement. Mancuso watched the depth gauge change slowly as the Chief of the Boat, also known as the Cob, slowly and skillfully adjusted the submarine's trim.
"Depth nine-zero feet, sir. It'll be very hard to hold."
"Maneuvering, give me turns for five knots. Helm, right fifteen degrees rudder, come to new heading zero-three-eight."
"Right fifteen degrees rudder, aye, coming to new heading zero-three-eight," the helmsman acknowledged. "Sir, my rudder is right fifteen degrees."
"Very well." Mancuso watched the gyrocompass click around to the northeasterly course. It took five minutes to get out from under the ice. The Captain ordered periscope depth. Another minute.
"Up 'scope!" Mancuso said next. A quartermaster twisted the control wheel, and the Captain met the rising instrument as the eyepiece cleared the deck. "Hold!"
The periscope stopped a foot below the surface. Mancuso looked for shadows and possible ice, but saw nothing. "Up two feet." He was on his knees now. "Two more and hold."
He used the slender attack periscope, not the larger search one. The search periscope had better light-gathering capacity, but he didn't want to risk the larger radar cross-section, and the submarine for the past twelve hours had been using red internal lights only. It made the food look odd, but it also gave everyone better night vision. He made a slow sweep of the horizon. There was nothing to be seen but drifting ice on the surface.
"Clear," he announced. "All clear. Raise the ESM." There was the hiss of hydraulics as the electronic-sensor mast went up. The thin reed of fiberglass was only half an inch wide, and nearly invisible on radar. "Down 'scope."
"I got that one surface-surveillance radar, bearing zero-three-eight," the ESM technician announced, giving frequency and pulse characteristics, "Signal is weak."
"Here we go, people." Mancuso lifted a phone to the bridge tube. "You ready?"
"Yes, sir," Clark replied.
"Stand by. Good luck." The Captain replaced the phone and turned. "Put her on the roof and stand by to take her down fast."
It took a total of four minutes. The top of Dallas' black sail broached the surface, pointing directly at the nearest Soviet radar to minimize its radar cross-section. It was more than tricky to hold depth. "Clark, go!"
"Right."
With all the drifting ice on the water, the screen for that radar should be heavily cluttered, Mancuso thought. He watched the indicator light for the hatch change from a dash, meaning closed, to a circle, meaning open.
The bridge trunk ended on a platform a few feet below the bridge itself. Clark wrenched open the hatch and climbed up. Next he hauled out his raft with the help of the seaman below on the ladder. Alone now in the submarine's tiny bridge-the control station atop the sail-he set the thing athwart the top of the sail and pulled the rope that inflated it. The high-pitched rasp of the rushing air seemed to scream into the night, and Clark winced to hear it. As soon as the rubberized fabric became taut, he called to the sailor to close the trunk hatch, then grabbed the bridge phone. "All ready here. The hatch is closed. See you in a couple of hours."
"Right. Good luck," Mancuso said again.
Aloft, Clark climbed smoothly into the raft as the submarine sank beneath him, and started the electric motor, Below, the bottom hatch of the bridge tube was opened only long enough for the sailor to leap down, then he and the Captain levered it shut.
"Straight board shut, we are rigged for dive," the Cob reported when the last indicator light changed back to a dash. "That's it," Mancuso noted. "Mr. Goodman, you have the conn, and you know what to do."