The Hunt for Red October - Tom Clancy [202]
"Yes, Comrade Colonel," a young captain said. "The surviving navigation officer, Ivanov, says that the evasion of imperialist surface and sub forces was effected perfectly—exactly in accordance with established procedures, but executed brilliantly by this Ramius fellow over a period of twelve hours. I have not even suggested that treason might be involved. Yet." Everyone knew that these sailors would be spending time in the Lubyanka until each head had been picked clean.
"Very well," the colonel said, "up to this point we have no indication of treason by the officers of the submarine? I thought not. Comrades, you will continue your interrogations in a gentler fashion until we arrive in Moscow. Allow your charges to relax."
The atmosphere on the aircraft gradually became more pleasant. Snacks were served, and vodka to loosen the tongues and encourage comradely good fellowship with the KGB officers, who were drinking water. The men all knew that they would be imprisoned for some time, and this fate was accepted with what to a Westerner would be surprising fatalism. The KGB would be working for weeks to reconstruct every event on the submarine from the time the last line was cast off at Polyarnyy to the moment the last man entered the Mystic. Other teams of agents were already working worldwide to learn if what happened to the Red October was a CIA plot or the plot of some other intelligence service. The KGB would find its answer, but the colonel in charge of the case was beginning to think the answer did not lie with these seamen.
The Red October
Noyes allowed Ramius to walk the fifteen feet from sick bay to the wardroom under supervision. The patient did not look very good, but this was largely because he needed a wash and a shave, like everyone else aboard. Borodin and Mancuso assisted him into his seat at the head of the table.
"So, Ryan, how are you today?"
"Good, thank you, Captain Ramius." Ryan smiled over his coffee. In fact he was hugely relieved, having for the past several hours been able to leave the question of running the sub to the men who actually knew something about it. Though he was counting the hours until he could get out of the Red October, for the first time in two weeks he was neither seasick nor terrified. "How is your leg, sir?"
"Painful. I must learn not to be shot again. I do not remember saying to you that I owe you my life, as all of us do."
"It was my life, too," Ryan replied, a little embarrassed.
"Good morning, sir!" It was the cook. "May I fix you some breakfast, Captain Ramius?"
"Yes, I am very hungry."
"Good! One U.S. Navy breakfast. Let me get some fresh coffee, too." He disappeared into the passageway. Thirty seconds later he was back with fresh coffee and a place setting for Ramius. "Ten minutes on the breakfast, sir."
Ramius poured a cup of coffee. There was a small envelope in the saucer. "What is this?"
"Coffee Mate," Mancuso chuckled. "Cream for your coffee, Captain."
Ramius tore open the packet, staring suspiciously inside before dumping the contents into the cup and stirring.
"When do we leave?"
"Sometime tomorrow," Mancuso answered. The Dallas was going to periscope depth periodically to receive operational orders and relaying them to the October by gertrude. "We learned a few hours ago that the Soviet fleet is heading back northeast. We'll know for sure by sundown. Our guys are keeping a close eye on them."
"Where do we go?" Ramius asked.
"Where did you tell them you were going?" Ryan wanted to know. "What exactly did your letter say?"
"You know about the letter—how?"
"We know—that is, I know about the letter, but that's all I can say, sir."
"I told Uncle Yuri that we were sailing to New York to make a present of this ship to the president of the United States ."
"But you didn't head for New York," Mancuso objected.
"Certainly not. I wished to enter Norfolk. Why go to a civilian port when a naval base is so close? You say I should tell Padorin the truth?" Ramius shook his head. "Why? Your coast is so large."
Dear Admiral Padorin, I'm sailing