Deep Lie (43 page)

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Authors: Stuart Woods

Tags: #Thriller, #Mystery

BOOK: Deep Lie
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“Group Five in Gothenburg is go!” he called.

 

“Group Seven at the Norwegian border road is go!”

 

“We have enough to move. Colonel,” Jones shouted.

 

“We can go now.”

 

“No,” Majorov said, “We have five units to hear from, and I want them fully deployed and ready before I ask the chairman for a go order.”

 

“Group Four at Kariskrona has reported, sir!” someone called out, and its symbol went green.

 

Majorov was standing, now, and he suddenly looked worried.

 

“We don’t have a go from Group One in Stockholm or Group Three in Strangnas. What reports do we have from them? We can’t go without those two.”

 

“I don’t understand it,” Jones said.

 

“Group One has been in place longer than any other. What can be keeping them?”

 

“They are still looking for Appicella and Lee.” Majorov said, sitting down again.

 

“Signal them to forget the surveillance and regroup at once. I want them ready, now!”

 

Jones answered a ringing phone, said a few words, and turned toward Majorov.

 

“We have a signal from Group Three in Strangnas. Stockholm Military Headquarters appears to be conducting a drill. Gates have been sealed and troops are being deployed at the perimeter in armored carriers.”

 

“That’s not possible!” Majorov cried.

 

“There is no drill scheduled there for another week! Carlsson gave us the schedules!”

 

Jones punched another button and listened.

 

“Colonel.

 

Group One is reporting civil defense sirens in Stockholm’ What the hell is going on?”

 

As he spoke. Ragulin watched the screen on the right hand side of the theater change from the scene of the grounded submarine in the Stockholm Archipelago to a man behind a desk in a studio.

 

“Give me sound on screen three!” Majorov shouted.

 

“.. to our central studios in Stockholm,” a voice said. The man behind the desk shuffled his papers and began.

 

“The Ministry of Defense, a few moments ago, issued a call for a general mobilization of all Sweden. All military leave is canceled. All members of the armed forces are ordered to report to their units immediately. All members of the military reserve and civil defense units are ordered to their pre-assigned positions at once. All Swedish subjects who are not members of military reserve or civil defense units are asked to remain at their current locations until requested to move. Office and factory workers not called up are instructed to remain at their places of work. All private motor vehicles are to be immobilized in order to leave streets and roads clear for military and civil defense vehicle movements. All Swedish subjects are requested to limit their use of telephones to cases of serious emergency. The government and Members of Parliament have already begun to disperse to pre-assigned, secure locations. The minister of defense is flying to the island of Hoggam. in the Stockholm Archipelago, in order to take personal charge of dealing with the Soviet submarine which ran aground there early this morning. For further mobilization instructions, tune in to your local radio stations.” He began to repeat the bulletin.

 

Majorov was standing again.

 

“I don’t believe it. This can’t be happening!” he shouted. The white telephone on his desk, with its distinctive ring, suddenly brought the room to a halt. There was an immediate hush. Majorov stared at the telephone as if it were a poisonous reptile, while it continued its loud ringing. Finally, he picked it up.

 

“This is Majorov. I know. Comrade Chairman, we have just seen the report on Swedish television. I have reason to believe it may be a defensive hoax. I request permission to hold my forces in readiness while I receive reports from my units in Sweden. Yes, Comrade Chairman, no more than thirty minutes.” He put the phone down.

 

“Defensive hoax?” Jones was standing at his desk, calling to Majorov.

 

“Group One has already reported a general alarm in Stockholm, and Group Three has reported the sealing of the Strangnas headquarters. There can be no hoax!”

 

“Shut up!” Majorov shouted at him.

 

“I want reports from all units on Swedish soil at once! Broadcast in the clear, if necessary!”

 

Jones returned to his phones, punching buttons and issuing orders. Ragulin grabbed a bottle of vodka and a glass from the galley, strode the few steps to where Majorov sat, and set them on his desk. She poured a glass of the vodka.

 

“Here, Colonel,” she said, hardly disguising her glee, “I think you need this.”

 

“Get away from me!” Majorov shouted, but he picked up the glass in a trembling hand and tossed down the vodka, then poured another.

 

“Reports, Jones!”

 

“Colonel,” Jones called back, “reports of other units confirm Group One. There is a genuine, nationwide, general alarm. Reserve troops have begun to take positions around key targets. I am afraid it is true. Colonel Majorov, Sweden is mobilizing.”

 

Majorov sat stock still, staring blankly toward the central screen. Red symbols for Swedish military movements were beginning to flash on the screen. The white telephone rang.

 

Silence quickly blanketed the room again. The piercing ring of the white telephone filled the silent theater. Every man’s eyes were on Majorov.

 

Majorov ignored the ringing of the white telephone.

 

“Jones.” he said, quietly, “transmit to Holder’s submarine the code 10301.”

 

“Yes, Colonel,” Jones replied. He picked up a telephone and spoke into it, then hung up.

 

“Code 10301 has been transmitted, sir,” he said.

 

The white telephone on Majorov’s desk stopped ringing. HELDER stood in the conning tower of the Whiskey boat and looked about him. Something was wrong. It had gone very quiet.

 

Kolchak had noticed it, too. It was early afternoon, now, and the wind had dropped, leaving the surface of the sea as placid as a lake. It was very warm, too, and the crew on the deck gun looked drowsy. Then, from across the water, there came a noisy whine. Helder and Kolchak turned in unison to look at the Swedish destroyer steaming slowly along half a mile away. Her guns, previously lowered and trained at sea level toward the grounded submarine, were elevating. On two patrol boats a couple of hundred yards away, gunners stood back from their weapons and let them point at the sky.

 

“What is it?” Kolchak asked.

 

“What is happening?”

 

It amused Helder that the man was whispering.

 

“They are backing off.” he answered.

 

“They have been told not to fire on us.”

 

“Then we must fire on them,” Kolchak said, nervously.

 

“Our orders are to provoke a battle, if necessary, before surrendering.”

 

Helder had no intention of provoking a battle. He did not intend to lose a single man, Russian or Swedish, to Majorov’s monumental ambition.

 

“I’ll wait for the coded order on that,” he said.

 

“That is my prerogative.”

 

“I’m not at all sure that it is,” huffed Kolchak.

 

“Surely, we cannot allow this situation to fizzle out.”

 

Helder cocked an ear.

 

“What is that?”

 

“What is what?” Kolchak asked.

 

“I don’t… yes, I do.”

 

From somewhere in the distance, down the channel toward Stockholm, a siren wound up to a pitch.

 

“A fire in one of the hamlets in the archipelago,” Kolchak said.

 

“A fire in two of them,” Helder said, turning to look south. Another siren had started up. Then, as the two men stood listening, the sirens were joined by others, near and far.

 

“What is going on?” Kolchak demanded.

 

“Is this some sort of trick to unnerve us?”

 

Helder smiled.

 

“Unnerve you it may. Kolchak, but it is not a trick. The Swedes have tumbled.”

 

“You mean the balloon is going up, as planned?”

 

“The balloon is not going up. Kolchak. Instead, the penny has dropped.”

 

“Stop speaking in English riddles. Holder; what do you mean?”

 

From the east, Helder noticed a new sound. At first he thought it another siren, but then it changed, grew into something else. It was coming closer.

 

“I mean there will be no invasion,” Helder said.

 

“The Swedes have sounded the alarm; they are mobilizing. Surprise is lost. There will be no invasion.”

 

Helder leaned over the rail and looked to the east. A boat was coming, and very fast. It looked like some sort of fancy pleasure boat. Probably some excited Swede was coming to have a look for himself. Another sound behind him caused him to turn. A helicopter was approaching. low. from the west, toward Stockholm.

 

“Of course there will be an invasion!” Kolchak insisted.

 

“Majorov has told us so!”

 

“As it happens, Kolchak, I was present when the First Secretary of our beloved Party told Majorov that there would be no invasion if surprise were lost.” Helder reached for the squawk box

 

“Number One.”

 

“Yes. sir?” the exec’s voice came back.

 

“Bring up a white flag, and prepare to hoist it.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Kolchak nearly shouted.

 

“Your orders were not to surrender the ship until there had been an exchange of fire!”

 

Helder turned to watch the fast-approaching power boat again.

 

“You haven’t been listening, Kolchak. It’s over.

 

Now we are going to be eating Swedish meatballs for a while.”

 

Another sound stopped Kolchak from replying. A loud. electronic beep ricocheted around the conning tower, followed by another, then another, five in all.

 

“We’ve got a code!” Kolchak said. crossing to where the radio receiver was mounted.

 

Helder followed him. The light-emitting diodes on the receiver spelled out a number: 10301.

 

“That’s it!” Kolchak said.

 

“The invasion is still on!

 

Send the sonar signal!”

 

The exec came into the conning tower, carrying a white Hag.

 

“Hoist it,” Helder said to the man.

 

Kolchak stepped over to the squawk box

 

“Radio man!” he shouted into it, “send your sonar signal.”

 

“Who is speaking, please?” the voice came back.

 

“This is Kolchak, dammit, your political officer! Send the sonar signal!”

 

“I am sorry, sir,” the radioman replied, “but I can only send that signal on the captain’s order.”

 

Kolchak whipped out his pistol.

 

“Helder!” he shouted, “give that order at once. or I will shoot you where you stand.”

 

The exec looked on, dumbfounded. Neither he nor the captain was wearing a sidearm.

 

Helder was looking again at the approaching powerboat. now much closer. He could see a single man. perhaps an old man, aboard. The thing must be doing between forty and fifty knots, he thought. He turned back to the political officer.

 

“Kolchak, if I send that signal, shortly afterwards a nuclear mine will be detonated in the archipelago only a short distance from where we stand.”

 

“What?”

 

“I know, I placed it there myself. If it goes off, not only will Stockholm be virtually wiped out. but so will you. It will send this submarine and all of us on it straight to hell, do you understand?”

 

“I understand my orders!” Kolchak yelled.

 

“Give the instruction to the radioman, or I will kill you and do it myself!”

 

Helder looked at the astonished executive officer, standing, holding the white flag.

 

“Hoist it,” he said.

 

Kolchak raised the pistol and fired at Holder’s head.

 

RULE looked down from the helicopter and saw a speeding powerboat coming from the east toward where the submarine lay.

 

“Minister, look at that,” she said, pointing.

 

The minister. Lee, and the pilot all craned their necks.

 

The powerboat, with a single man aboard, came flying across the water, parallel with the grounded submarine, then began to execute a 90-degree right turn. directly toward the sub. A Swedish patrol boat, belatedly, began to give chase. Men aboard other boats pointed, and officers and crew aboard the destroyer rushed to the rail and leaned out to look.

 

“Jesus Christ.” the minister said. “he’s going to ram the sub.”

 

OSKARSSON came out of the turn at full throttle, both levers jammed all the way forward. The two giant outboards rose in pitch to a scream as they were pushed to maximum revs. Oskarsson chose his course, straight between the conning tower and the deck gun, then looped a length of shock cord over a spoke of the helm. He grabbed the loaded shotgun on the seat beside him, and stepped to the rail. The boat ran. straight and true, over the still water, gaining speed and holding rock steady. Oskarsson hooked a foot under a seat, rested the barrels of the gun on his maimed hand, reaching over with the thumb, and took careful aim. The boat was seventy yards out, then fifty. then thirty. Oskarsson followed the change of angle to a point where a tiny bell rang in his brain.

 

“Now, Ebbe, now!” he said to his grandson, then pulled both triggers.

 

HELDER staggered, then turned away from Kolchak and looked at the powerboat, coming directly at the sub.

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