The Sum of All Fears.pdf - Delta Force

Dubinin nodded agreement. 'Yes, given current political circumstances, it is
truly a game of skill, not one of malice anymore.'
'Would that I were young enough to play,' the Master Shipwright said.
'And the new sonar?'
'This is our design from the Severomorsk Laboratory, a large aperture array,
roughly a forty-percent improvement in sensitivity. On the whole, you will be
the equal of an American Los Angeles class in nearly all regimes.'
Except crew, Dubinin didn't say. It would be years before his country had the
ability to train men as the Western navies did, and by that time Dubinin would
no longer have command at sea – BUT! In three months time he'd have the best
ship that his nation had ever given one of its captains. If he were able to
cajole his squadron commander into giving him a larger officer complement, he
could beach the more inept of his conscripts and begin a really effective
training regimen for the rest. Training and leading the crew was his job. He was
the commanding officer of Admiral Lunin. He took credit for what went well, and
blame for what went badly. Ramius had taught him that from the first day aboard
the first submarine. His fate was in his own hands, and what man could ask for
more than that?
Next year, USS Maine, when the bitterly cold storms of winter sweep across the
North Paciflc, we will meet again.
***
'Not a single contact,' Captain Ricks said in the wardroom.
'Except for Omaha.' LCDR Claggett looked over some paperwork. 'And he was in too
much of a hurry.'
'Ivan doesn't even try anymore. Like he's gone out of business.' It was almost a
lament from the Navigator.
'Why even try to find us?'Ricks observed. 'Hell, aside from that Akula that got
lost . . .'
'We did track the guy a while back,' Nav pointed out.
'Maybe next time we'll get some hull shots,' a lieutenant observed lightly from
behind a magazine. There was general laughter. Some of the more extreme
fast-attack skippers had, on very rare occasions, maneuvered close enough to
some Soviet submarines to take flash photographs of their hulls. But that was a
thing of the past. The Russians were a lot better at the submarine game than
they'd been only ten years earlier. Being number two did make one try harder.
'Now, the next engineering drill,' Ricks said.
The Executive Officer noted that the faces around the table didn't change. The
officers were learning not to groan or roll their eyes. Ricks had a very limited
sense of humor.
***
'Hello, Robby!' Joshua Painter got up from his swivel chair and walked over to
shake hands with his visitor.
'Morning, sir.'
'Grab a seat.' A steward served coffee to both men. 'How's the wing look?'
'I think we'll be ready on time, sir.'
Admiral Joshua Painter, USN, was Supreme Allied Commander Atlantic,
Commander-in-Chief Atlantic, and Commander-in-Chief U.S. Atlantic Fleet – they