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Hunt For Red October CD1

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Hey, what are you doing?
You're supposed to be upstairs sleeping.
Stanley keeps waking me up.
Oh, ho, ho. I get it.
Boy, are you getting heavy.
Don't let her pull more than her usual nonsense.
Two stories, two glasses of water.
Jack, you're going to miss the plane.
OK. Cricket, you listen to me.
Go upstairs with Mrs. Wheeler now and go to sleep.
On my business trip,
I'll get Stanley a little brother.
Will you promise?
I promise.
Can I get you anything, sir?
No, thank you very much.
If you try and get sleep,
the flight will go faster.
I can never sleep on a plane.
Turbulence.
Pardon?
Turbulence...
Solar radiation heats the Earth's crust,
warm air rises, cold airs descends.
Turbulence. I don't like that.
Oh. Well, try to sleep anyway.
Dr Ryan?
Jack, boy, get yourself in here.
Jesus! You look like hell.
Thank you very much, Admiral.
Want coffee?
I think I need some coffee.
I'm not going to ask you how your flight went.
When's the last time you got some sleep?
Oh, I don't know.
This thing's still on London time.
Milk and sugar?
Milk and sugar.
So how's Caroline?
Last time I saw her
was at your granddad's place in Maine, wasn't it?
She's fine. Sends you her best.
And Sally?
She's fine.
What is she now, 3?
Ah, no, she's a very precocious 5.
She announced to Caroline and I the other day
that her life would be considerably less lonely
if we were to buy her a baby brother.
But she decided it would be enough
if we were to buy one for Stanley.
Who's Stanley?
Uh... Stanley's a bear.
All right.
What's important enough to get you on a plane
in the middle of the night?
British lntelligence obtained these pictures two days ago.
She's the Red October,
the latest typhoon class.
Big son of a bitch.
12 meters longer than the standard typhoon.
3 meters wider.
The captain's name is Ramius.
One of yours?
Yeah. I did his bio last year.
He's taken out the lead boat
in each new sub class for 10 years.
Fairly good political connections.
Trained most of their attack boat skippers.
The Russians call him Vilnius Nastavnic...
the Vilnius schoolmaster.
What are these doors?
Those doors, sir, are the problem.
I don't know what they are.
Neither do the British.
Perhaps our friends in Murmansk
have come up with something new.
With your permission, I'd like to show these to someone.
Do you know Skip Tyler?
Sub driver.
Was. Clipped by a drunk driver. Lost his leg.
He's teaching at the academy,
consulting for Navy labs.
Clearance?
Top secret or better.
Margie, have a car for Dr Ryan
downstairs in 10 minutes.
A satellite caught Red October
in Polijarny lnlet this morning.
Do you hear it?
No.
Beaumont, at Cal Tech
we used to do this in our sleep.
You hear it now?
Wait a minute.
Maybe.
Um...
It's buried in surface clutter?
Yes.
I should go to SAPS?
Correct, Seaman Beaumont.
Signal algorithmic processing systems.
Give it a week,
and you'll be teaching at Cal Tech.
So...
Iike Beethoven on the computer,
you have labored to produce...
a biologic.
A what?
A whale, Beaumont. A whale...
A marine mammal
that knows a hell of a lot more about sonar
than you do.
Kill the SAPS.
Train over to 2-6-9 and let's try it again.
If he gets to ragging on you too bad,
ask him about Pavarotti.
We don't have time for sea stories.
I was in the middle of teaching Seaman Beaumont
the intricacies of modern sonar. Now...
I ain't chief of the boat.
I'm Sheena, Queen of the Jungle.
Cob, please.
Come on, Cob. Tell me.
OK. Fine. Go ahead.
Ahem... Seaman Jones here,
he's into music in a big way.
He figures this whole boat
is basically just his own
personal, private stereo set.
He gets this piece of Pavarotti...
Paganini.
Whatever.
Paganini.
This is my story, OK?
Tell it right. Pavarotti's a tenor.
Paganini was a composer.
OK. So he's got this music,
and he's got it out in the water.
He's listening on his headsets,
happy as a clam.
Then all hell breaks loose.
A slew of boats out of San Diego...
Including one way out at Pearl.
Including one way out at Pearl.
All of a sudden, they start hearing...
- Pavarotti. - Pavarotti...
coming out of their asses.
What do I do?
I got it.
Conn. Sonar. New contact, bearing 0-9-7.
Designate contact number Sierra 3-5.
Captain, aye. What've you got, Jones?
Distant contact, probably submerged.
It's a wild guess,
but I'd say we hit a boomer
coming out of the barn.
Could be a missile boat out of Polijarny.
OK. Start your track.
I'll be there in a minute.
Sonar, aye.
...Armageddon.
And the seventh angel poured forth his bowl
into the air,
and a voice cried out from heaven, saying,
"It is done".
A man with your responsibilities
reading about the end of the world. Huh.
And what's this?
"I am become death,
the destroyer of worlds".
It is an ancient Hindu text
quoted by an American.
American?
Mmm. He invented the atomic bomb,
and he was later accused of being a Communist.
You wrote and underlined these passages?
No.
This book belonged to my wife.
I keep it for sentimental value.
I'm sorry, comrade Captain.
Your wife was... a beautiful woman.
Her death was... unfortunate.
I'm only doing my job.
It is my responsibility.
How many agents did the KGB put aboard my boat?
Your boat, Captain?
Yes.
This vessel belongs to the people of the Soviet Union.
Besides, if the KGB or the GRU has agents aboard,
I will be the last to know.
I suggest we open our orders, Captain.
Certainly, comrade.
"From commander...
strategic submarine forces
red banner northern fleet".
We're to proceed north to grid square reference 54-90
and rendezvous with alfa submarine Konovalov.
Captain Tupolev's boat.
You know Tupolev?
I know he descends from aristocracy
and that he was your student.
It's rumored he has a special place
in his heart for you.
There's little room in Tupolev's heart for anyone but Tupolev.
Having made contact, we are to run a series of drills.
Tupolev will hunt us while we test our ship.
Having evaluated the operational readiness
of the caterpillar drive,
we are to return to Polijarny
on or about the 16th of this month.
Captain, this is an historic moment.
I'd like to make a request.
Before you proceed, comrade...
I know it's not protocol,
but would you permit me to post our orders
and inform the crew of our mission?
Aah!
Where I'm going...
you cannot follow.
Dr Petrov, report to my cabin immediately.
There's been a dreadful accident.
Hey, buddy!
Daniel, got any more rods?
More rods!
Listen to me. There's no cradle underneath it.
Get it over.
Relax! Stop being an old maid.
You want to come up here and do it yourself?
All right. Bring her up.
What? What?
Ryan!
Who let you in here?
Hey, Skip,
what, have they got you playing with models now?
Ahh!
Damn it, Bill!
Tell them to slow down!
I'm doing it. I'm doing it.
Calm down, will you?
It's not a model. The DSRV.
Rescue sub.
I know what it is.
What are you doing with it?
We're rigging it with a generic docking collar
so it'll mate with British, German...
just about anybody's sub.
We can get it anywhere in the world
in 24 hours.
How's your back?
It's fine.
Have you got a minute?
Bigger than a regular typhoon.
What are these doors?
You don't miss much, do you?
Those are too big to be torpedo tubes.
Would you launch an ICBM horizontally?
Sure. Why would you want to?
They're symmetrical.
Right down the long axis of the sub.
How about a towed sonar array?
Nope. Too close to the screws.
I'll be...
This...
This could be a caterpillar.
A what?
Uh, a caterpillar drive.
Magneto-hydrodynamic propulsion.
You follow?
No.
It's like a... a jet engine for the water.
Goes in the front, gets squirted out the back.
Only it's got no moving parts,
so it's very, very quiet.
Like how quiet?
It's doubtful our sonar would even pick it up.
And if it did,
it would sound like whales humping
or a seismic anomaly.
Anything but a submarine.
We messed with this a couple of years ago.
Couldn't make it work.
They really built this?
This isn't a mock-up or anything?
She put to sea this morning.
When I was 12,
I helped my daddy build a bomb shelter in our basement
because some fool parked a dozen warheads
90 miles off the coast of Florida.
This thing could park a couple of hundred warheads
off Washington and New York,
and no one would know anything about it
until it was all over.
Are you all right, Captain?
Oh, yes.
It's just to die for something
as petty as slipping on tea.
You're blaming yourself, Captain. It was an accident.
You'll feel better when we put in.
Put in?
Well, to base, Captain.
We cannot go on without a political officer.
Doctor, this is a combat vessel of the Soviet Navy,
and I'm a senior combat officer.
We do not cancel operations because of accidents.
Seaman.
Come here.
Come here.
Your name?
Cook's Assistant, Loginov, sir.
Good. I want you and the doctor to witness this.
I'm removing the political officer's...
missile key...
carry on...
and I'm keeping it myself.
Captain, I think we should report this
to Red Fleet Command.
I'm afraid that's impossible, Doctor.
Our orders are for strict radio silence.
Orders, sir.
That's all, Loginov.
Yes, sir.
This is most unnerving, Captain.
The reason for having two missile keys
is so that no one man...
may...
May what?
May arm the missiles.
Perhaps I should keep the key.
Thank you. That'll be all, Doctor.
Captain, l...
When I address the crew,
then you will understand.
Yes, sir.
Petrov.
Yes, sir?
I will try to forget your comments
when I present my report.
Thank you, sir.
Holding steady on 3-1-0.
12 knots at about 20,000 yards.
Have you got a make on him?
Computer's chewing on it, sir.
Twin screws.
The plant noise sounds like a typhoon.
I'd say we got a new boat, sir.
Tommy, I miss something on the boards?
Sub plant hasn't said anything about it.
Hmm.
All right.
How many typhoons we got in the computer?
Six, sir.
OK. Call this guy Typhoon Seven.
Start a tape on him.
See if we can work in a little closer.
Yes, sir.
Won't he hear us?
Not if we stay in his baffles, Seaman Beaumont.
Not if we stay in his baffles.
Come in behind his propeller,
and he's deaf as a post.
Any sonar contacts, Mr. Kamarov?
No contacts, Captain. The sonar is clear.
Good. Do we have any surface contacts, Mr. Borodin?
No contacts, sir. Scope is clear.
Good. Then it is time
I explain our orders to the crew.
Comrades, this is your captain.
It is an honor to speak to you today,
and I'm honored to be sailing with you
on the maiden voyage
of our motherland's most recent achievement.
And once more, we play our dangerous game,
a game of chess,
against our old adversary...
the American Navy.
For 40 years,
your fathers before you and your older brothers
played this game and played it well.
But today, the game is different.
We have the advantage.
It reminds me of the heady days
of Sputnik and Yuri Gagarin,
when the world trembled at the sound of our rockets.
Well, they will tremble again
at the sound of our silence.
The order is engage for silent drive.
Aye, sir.
Ballast control, open outer doors.
Yes, open outer doors.
Diving command.
Engage caterpillar and secure main engines.
Doors opening, Captain.
Comrades, our own fleet
doesn't know our full potential.
They will do everything possible to test us,
but they will only test their own embarrassment.
We will leave our fleet behind.
We will pass through the American patrols,
pass their sonar nets,
and lay off their largest city
and listen to their rock 'n' roll
while we conduct missile drills.
Then...
And when we are finished,
the only sound they will hear
is our laughter
while we sail to Havana,
where the sun is warm and so is the comradeship.
Cryogenic plant coming on line, Captain.
A great day, comrades.
We sail into history.
Caterpillar engaging.
Caterpillar engaging, Captain.
What happened?
I don't know.
Full rudder left.
Full rudder left.
Navigator.
New course, 2-5-0.
Yes, new course, 2-5-0.
Steering 2-5-0.
Yes, course is 2-5-0.
Sonar contact, Captain. Port quarter.
Close aboard.
American,
Los Angeles class.
American. Captain, we...
Course 3-1-0.
Is the American turning to follow us?
No, Captain.
The American is continuing in his original course.
He's continuing northwest.
He can't hear us.
And the singing?
Let them sing.
What are you talking about? Check your gear.
Running diagnostics now, Captain.
Sonar is working, Captain.
The Russian disappeared.
One minute, he was steady
4,000 yards off the bow,
and then he was gone,
and for a second, I thought I heard...
Heard what?
I thought I heard singing, sir.
Singing?
Yes, sir.
Yah, yah.
Yah, yah, yah.
Yah, yah.
Good morning, sir.
I hope we had a lovely evening.
Yah, yah.
A little chilly this morning.
There's a letter there from Marko Ramius.
Ah, Marko.
Yes?
No. This is Dr Ryan.
What the hell happened?
Come on.
This is no longer a research project.
I got a line on those doors.
You know what they are?
A nearly silent propulsion system?
How did you know that?
The captain of the sub following her radioed in.
Thing disappeared right in front of him,
and that's only the half of it.
Read.
Oh! I'm sorry.
Got your I.D.?
My God, this is unbelievable.
The Kirov, three Sverdlovs,
the Kiev, the Minsk.
They've sortied their whole bloody fleet.
That's about the size of it.
Good afternoon, Admiral.
Afternoon, Matthew.
Where are we going anyway?
Briefing for Jeffrey Pelt,
President's National Security Adviser.
Most of the Joint Chiefs will be there,
along with a few other people.
Who's giving the briefing?
You are.
The yeoman will have all the slides
Iaid out for you.
So all you got to do...
Look.
No one understands this material better than you.
Just give him a rundown on the sub
and a precis of the stuff in your hand.
He's liable to ask some direct questions.
Give him direct answers.
Tell him what you think.
Come on.
Ahem.
Ahem.
Uh, gentlemen, the last 24 hours
have seen some extraordinary Soviet naval activity.
The first to sail was this ship,
we believe called the Red October
in reference to the October Revolution of 1917.
A variant of the typhoon class,
she's some 650 feet long
and 32,000 tons submerged displacement...
roughly the same size
as a World War Il aircraft carrier.
We believe that these doors,
here on the bow and again on the stern,
enclose a unique propulsion system...
a magneto-hydrodynamic drive, or caterpillar,
that would enable the sub to run virtually silent.
It is possible that this new drive system
allowed the captain, a man named Ramius,
their senior and perhaps most respected commander...
Do we have his picture available?
Allowed Ramius to elude one of our attack boats,
the Dallas, which trailed Red October from harbor this morning.
It is also possible
that this drive system, if operable,
could render the Red October
undetectable to our Sosus warning nets
in the Atlantic.
Mr. Ryan, would you characterize this
as a first-strike weapon?
Uh, that is a possibility, sir.
It is designed to approach by stealth
and to shower its target
with multiple independent warheads
with little or no warning before impact.
Goddamn thing's made to start a war.
Proceed, Mr. Ryan.
About the same time the Dallas lost contact,
there were additional sailings
from Polijarny and from Leningrad on the Baltic
and from the Mediterranean.
There are now some 58 nuclear submarines
headed at high speed into the Atlantic.
This afternoon a satellite pass over Polijarny
found heat blooms in the engineering plants
at the Kirov, the Minsk,
and more than 20 other cruisers and destroyers,
indicating they were preparing to sail.
This constitutes the bulk of the Soviet surface fleet.
Admiral Greer, your conclusions.
Well, sir,
the data support no conclusions as yet.
The absence of activity in the Pacific
suggests this could be just an exercise.
It may have nothing to do...
Suppose it's not an exercise?
Suppose this is the beginning
of a move against NATO?
NSA can speak for that, Mr. Pelt.
I must emphasize the extreme sensitivity of this information
and that it not leave the room.
Before sailing, Captain Ramius
sent a letter to Admiral Yuri Padorin,
Chairman of the Red Fleet
northern political directorate.
That's her uncle.
Whose uncle?
Ramius' wife.
Padorin's her uncle.
Now, the contents of the letter are unknown,
but Admiral Padorin immediately demanded
a meeting with Premier Chernenko,
and within minutes of that meeting,
the Soviet fleet sailed
with orders to find Red October
and sink her.
Sink her?
My God. They've got a madman on their hands.
If it gets within 500 miles of the coast,
we'll have less than two minutes' warning.
Today's the 23rd, isn't it?
What?
Is today the 23rd?
Yeah.
You son of a bitch.
You son of a bitch!
You wish to add something
to our discussion, Dr Ryan?
Well, sir, I was just thinking
that perhaps there's another possibility we might consider.
Ramius might be trying to defect.
Do you mean to suggest
that this man has come...
Proceed, Mr. Ryan.
Well...
Ramius trained most of their officer corps,
which would put him in a position
to select men willing to help him.
And he's not Russian.
He's Lithuanian by birth,
raised by his paternal grandfather, a fisherman.
And he has no children, no ties to leave behind.
And today is the first anniversary
of his wife's death.
Come on. You're just an analyst.
How can you read his mind?
I know Ramius, General.
He's nearly a legend in the submarine community.
He's been a maverick his entire career.
I actually met him once at an embassy dinner.
Have you ever met Captain Ramius, General?
Admiral Hollis,
how long before Ramius could be in a position
to fire his missiles at us?
Four days.
All right. I'll brief the President.
That will be all, gentlemen.
Dr Ryan,
would you stay for a moment, please?
I said speak your mind, Jack, but Jesus...
You slammed the door on the general pretty hard, Jack.
That was not my intention, sir.
Oh, yes, it was.
He was patronizing you,
and you stomped on him.
In my opinion, he deserved it.
Listen, I'm a politician,
which means I'm a cheat and a liar,
and when I'm not kissing babies,
I'm stealing their lollipops,
but it also means that I keep my options open.
So let's assume for a minute that you're right
and this Russian intends to defect.
What do you suggest we do about it?
We definitely grab the boat, sir.
Hey, wait a minute.
We're not talking about some stray pilot with a M.I.G.
We're talking about several billion dollars' worth
of Soviet state property.
They're going to want it back.
Maybe it's enough then
just to get some people onboard and inspect it.
Call it whatever you want to...
a Coast Guard safety inspection.
So how do we proceed?
First, we need to contact
the commanders in the Atlantic directly.
The Russians get one whiff of this
through the regular communications circuits,
the game is up.
Second, we figure out how we can help them.
We devise a plan to intercede,
ready to go at a moment's notice.
Third, somebody's got to go make contact with Ramius
and find out what his intentions really are.
OK.
When do you leave?
Ha ha ha!
Wait a minute.
The general was right.
I am not field personnel.
I am only an analyst.
You're perfect.
I can't ask any of these characters to go.
They don't believe in it.
They'd never stake their reputation
on a hunch, whereas you...
Are expendable.
Something like that.
I'll give you three days
to prove your theory correct.
After that,
I have to hunt down Ramius and destroy him.
Will you do it?
Mother of God!
Secure the mast!
All ahead, 2/3!
Set depth to 900 meters!
What is it? What's happened?
Mast secured, helm at 2/3.
Commence heading 2-0-5.
2-0-5, affirmative.
These orders are seven bloody hours old!
Sitting on the bottom
Iike an addled schoolboy.
Captain...
Passing at...
All ahead, flank.
All ahead, flank.
Inquire of the engineer about the possibility
Seven hours.
The entire fleet is after him.
Leveling at 900 meters.
Very well.
Captain, Engineer reports
but not recommended.
Go to 105 on the reactor.
Captain, what is it?
Where are we going?
We're going to kill a friend, Yevgeni.
We're going to kill Ramius.
If you like borscht, perhaps,
but I've eaten better in an oiler's galley.
My wife said to the waiter,
"Where did this man learn to cook,
Afghanistan?"
So then we went on to the Bolshoi,
the ballet,
to see this new girl as Giselle.
You remember how beautiful she was.
She just married a factory manager.
Excuse me, Doctor.
Do you have the figures
for the latest batch of radiation tests?
Now?
Now.
Perhaps you could bring the preceding set as well...
for comparison.
Thank you, Doctor.
It will take him some time.
Before we begin, Captain,
I'd like to know
exactly what happened to Putin.
He didn't slip on his tea, did he?
I don't think I like your tone, Slavin.
What the hell's my tone got to do with it?
We're risking our lives here.
Putin could've caused complications.
Did you think he would just go away and sulk
while we carried out our plans?
Are you saying he was murdered?
My God.
Stop whining, Yuri.
How can you justify murder?
So he was murdered.
The man was a pig,
but it's a decision we should've all made together.
You are not in command here.
If the crew finds out, we could have a mutiny.
What are you talking about?
They could kill us all.
Everything that happens on this ship affects us all.
The Master-At-Arms is already suspicious.
We could still go back.
There will be no going back.
Before we sailed,
I dispatched a letter to Admiral Padorin,
in which I announced our intention...
to defect.
In the name of God, why?
When he reached the New World,
Cortez burned his ships.
As a result, his men were well motivated.
You have signed our death warrants.
Padorin will send the entire fleet.
Jesus, they'll find us.
They'll find us and...
No one's going to find us.
That's enough, Yuri.
You had to do it, huh?
You couldn't just turn the submarine over
to the Americans.
You had to make a political statement.
Or was it something deeper, Captain...
something that made you unable to slip away?
Was it ego, Captain?
We each have our reasons, Victor.
My own began
the day I was handed the blueprints for this ship...
a ship which had but one use.
And as for the rest,
well, those are things that I alone
must carry the burden for.
Anatoli, you're afraid of our fleet.
Well, you should be.
Personally, I give us one chance in three.
More tea, anyone?
No?
Then you may report back to your posts.
You heard the Captain. Dismissed.
Captain.
Captain, I would never disagree with you
in front of the men, you know that.
But in this case, Victor is right.
It would've been better
if you had not informed Moscow.
Oh, Vasily.
Moscow is not the worry,
nor the whole Soviet Navy.
I know their tactics.
I have the advantage.
No.
The worry is the Americans.
If we meet the right sort,
this will work.
We get some buckaroo...
Some turbulence, eh, Commander?
You don't like flying, huh?
Oh, this is nothing!
You should've been with us
five, six months ago!
Oh! You talk about puke!
We ran into a hailstorm over the sea of Japan, right?
Everybody's retching their guts out!
The pilot shot his lunch
all over the windshield,
and I barf on the radio!
Knocked it out completely,
and it wasn't that lightweight stuff either!
It was that chunky, industrial-weight puke!
You want a bite?
Jack, next time you get a bright idea,
just put it in a memo.
Sir.
That'll be all, Lieutenant. Thank you.
That hawkeye from Weymouth Trap?
Four wire.
Caught a gust over the fantail.
Well, not bad, considering.
The gentleman is here to see you.
The gentleman?
What the hell you talking about, Charlie?
I apologize for the uniform, sir.
This is Admiral Greer's idea
of a low profile.
You work for Jim Greer?
That's right, sir.
Then I imagine you'll tell me
what all the hubbub's about.
Captain, you got a minute?
Jonesy's got something
I think you ought to see.
Martinez, get yourself a cup of coffee.
Send me up some tea.
Aye, Captain.
Messenger, get the captain a cup of tea.
Captain.
Sir, the moment that sub went silent
and I thought I heard some singing,
I heard something in the background real faint.
After all those subs took off,
I caught it again and got it on tape.
I washed it through the computer
and was able to isolate this sound.
When I asked the computer to identify it,
what I got was magma displacement.
You see, sir, the SAPS software
was originally written to look for seismic events.
I think when it gets confused,
it kind of runs home to Mama.
I'm not following you, Jonesy.
Sir, I'm sorry.
Listen to it at 10 times speed.
Now, that's got to be manmade, Captain.
All right.
The first contact was at 09:15,
and the bearing was 2-6-9.
At 09:30, it was here.
I came back to it at 11:00 and 11:15, here and here.
Remember the dispatch we got
about Russian sub skippers
running the Reykjanes Ridge at high speeds
because they had hyper-accurate surveys
of the underwater canyons?
The front door to those canyons
was a formation called Thor's Twins.
Yeah?
Look at that.
Right into Red Route One.
Captain.
You may think I'm crazy,
but I'll bet that magma displacement
was actually some new Russian sub,
and it's headed for the lceland coast.
Have I got this straight, Jonesy?
A $40 million computer tells you you're chasing an earthquake,
but you don't believe it,
and you come up with this on your own?
Yes, sir.
Including all the navigation math?
Sir, I've got all the...
Relax, Jonesy. You sold me.
Tommy, I want you to plot us a speed course
for the bottom end of Red Route One.
We'll never find him in those canyons.
First take us to periscope depth.
This we got to phone in.
Aye, aye, Captain.
Hang on, Jonesy.
If I can get you close enough,
can you track this sucker?
Yes, sir.
Now that I know what to listen for,
I'll bag him.
Carry on.
Yes, sir.
That's the craziest notion I've ever heard...
a serving line officer?
An entire ballistic missile submarine?
They can't all want to defect.
Even if it's only the officers,
it's extremely difficult to believe.
What's his plan?
His plan?
Russians don't take a dump, son,
without a plan.
Senior captains don't start something this dangerous
without having thought the matter through.
What's he going to do,
sail into New York, pop the hatch, and say here I am?
It might be just that simple, yes.
Things may appear simple in the cubicle at CIA,
but in the middle of the Atlantic
with Soviet warships bearing down on us,
they get more complex.
Smoke?
No, thank you.
And I don't think your notion
of a few days inspection's going to wash either.
In order to be of any value,
you'd have to tear it apart.
The metallurgy would take a couple of months.
Then we'd have to keep it.
What will you do with the crew?
Ones that don't defect will go back and say we got the boat.
Or do you plan to eliminate them?
We're not at war, sir.
So you have to get them off the boat in such a way
that they think we don't have it,
and they'll report that we don't have it to their bosses.
Otherwise, this whole business
is just academic, right?
Yes, sir. I think I see your point.
When's the last time you slept?
A while.
The chief outside will fix you up.
Thank you, sir.
Captain.
It'll be dawn in a couple of hours.
We'll be in the CIC.
Things are liable to get a little dicey around here.
Yes, sir.
You think he's crazy?
Certifiable.
No matter what his credentials,
I don't care for him wearing the uniform.
Did you see that ring on his finger?
The academy, class of '72. A marine.
You're kidding.
How did you...
Greer told me.
Summer of his third year,
he went down in a chopper accident.
Bad. Pilot and crew killed.
That kid spent 10 months in traction
and another year learning to walk again.
He did his fourth year from the hospital.
It's up to you, Charlie,
but you might consider cutting the kid a little slack.
Ah, Russians are going to find that sub
before we get near it anyway.
Passing Thor's Twins, sir.
Very good.
Passing the twins now, Captain.
Very good. You may commence your run.
Call me at the first turning.
Aye, Captain.
Mr. Kamarov.
You may commence your run now.
Aye, sir.
First leg on my mark, course 2-6-0.
Speed, 18 knots. Depth, 270 meters.
5...
4...
3...
2...
1...
Mark.
Diving command, course 2-6-0.
Course 2-6-0, aye.
Speed, 18 knots.
Speed, 18 knots, aye.
Stop pissing, Yuri.
Give me a stopwatch and a map,
and I'll fly the Alps
in a plane with no windows.
If the map is accurate enough.
We're in the lane and approaching first turn.
Come left to course 1-9-5.
In 30 seconds,
decrease depth to 200 meters.
Maintain speed.
Very good, Navigator.
Captain, we're approaching the first turn.
25 seconds to course 1-9-5.
Increase speed to 26 knots and recompute.
Aye, Captain.
Navigator, recompute for 26 knots.
Turn on my mark.
5... 4... 3... 2... 1...
Mark.
Diving control, come left to 1-9-5.
Come left to 1-9-5.
Up on the bow planes.
Course now 1-9-5
and maintaining speed 26 knots.
Mr. Kamarov?
Next leg, Captain,
come right to course 2-4-0 now at...
8 minutes and 40 seconds.
Very good. Maintain course and speed.
Too fast, Vasily.
Too fast.
Those charts are laid out precisely...
so many knots for so many seconds.
And this thing handles like a pig.
Watch your bearing, Mr. Slavin.
15 seconds to turn, Captain.
Should we decrease speed?
Negative.
Prepare to come right.
Aye, sir.
8...
7...
6...
5...
4...
3...
2...
1...Mark.
15 degrees down angle on the bow planes.
Come right 2-4-0.
Move it!
We're in the lane.
Next leg 34 minutes to the Neptune Massif.
Course 2-4-0.
What happened?
The cryogenic plant!
The magnets aren't cooling.
Temperature in the caterpillar
is 15 degrees above red line and rising.
It's going to melt.
Kill it! Shut it down!
Captain?
What happened?
The cryogenic plant failed.
Reactor damage?
There was a power spike,
but the reactor scrammed automatically.
Was there any radiation leakage?
I don't know yet!
How long will it take to fix?
I got to find what's wrong first.
Could be the liquid helium or the superconductors.
Captain, we will have to stop
until we can repair the caterpillar unit.
Negative. We'll run on normal propulsion.
Captain, we will not be silent.
Make revolutions for 20 knots
and engage the propellers.
Aye, Captain.
Commence engine start-up.
He'll get us all killed.
The captain knows what he's doing.
Doctor.
Naval activities?
I have no knowledge of this.
But then, I never was a sailor.
Mr. Ambassador,
you have nearly 100 vessels operating
in the North Atlantic right now.
Your aircraft have dropped enough sonar buoys
that a man could walk from Greenland to Scotland
without getting his feet wet.
Shall we dispense with the bull?
You make your point
as delicately as ever, Mr. Pelt, but...
And what looks like an exercise
could be a prelude to war.
How can we tell the difference?
Prudence demands that we deploy ships to observe yours.
Your government should consider
that having your ships and ours,
your aircraft and ours,
in such proximity is inherently dangerous.
Wars have begun that way, Mr. Ambassador.
We have lost one of our submarines.
Lost it?
We fear she may be down, and...
this is most embarrassing, but...
several of the officers are sons of...
high party officials.
One is even the son
of a Central Committee member.
I cannot say which.
You're telling me this is a massive rescue operation?
That is correct.
I'm terribly sorry.
How can we help?
I'm not sure that...
Perhaps a joint rescue mission?
That is very gracious of you, sir.
I'll pass your offer on.
But at this time,
I think we're doing everything
that can be done.
Captain?
Our strategy depends on your answer.
The entire fleet will know where we are.
Captain, Sonar.
We've been overflown by a multi-engine turboprop.
Put it on audio.
Short transients, close aboard.
Water entry of small objects.
Sonar buoys.
Battle stations.
Battle stations!
Battle stations!
Battle stations!
How long to Neptune Massif?
How long?
4 minutes, 10 seconds.
Should we bottom the boat?
No. Too late now.
We've run out of time.
Countermeasures.
Prepare to launch missiles.
Aye, sir.
Aircraft on computer guidance.
Request permission to launch.
You are authorized to launch the weapon.
Weapon is away.
High speed screw!
Torpedo in the water!
Stand by.
Torpedo is active.
Torpedo has acquired.
Launch countermeasures.
Launch countermeasures. Aye, sir.
We're in the lane.
How long till the turn at Massif?
2 minutes, 9 seconds.
We have no room to maneuver in these canyons.
Shut up.
Torpedo has reached countermeasures.
Torpedo has lost contact.
Massif approaching.
Torpedo has reacquired.
Torpedo has reacquired and is homing.
Give me the count.
Turn at Massif 40 degrees starboard in 30 seconds.
Time to torpedo impact?
Torpedo impact, 35 seconds.
Increase to flank.
Full ahead flank.
Full ahead flank.
Full ahead flank, aye.
Torpedo impact now 40 seconds.
35 seconds.
30 seconds.
Turn at Massif in...
7...
6...
5...
4...
3...
2...
1...
Mark.
Torpedo impact 25 seconds.
The turn, Captain.
Not yet.
Mark plus 8 seconds...
plus 9...
plus 10 seconds...
plus 11...plus 12...
plus 13 seconds...
plus 14...
plus 15 seconds.
Captain, we're out of position by a boat length.
H
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