Ice Station Nautilus by Rick Campbell Page B

Scalise. The flooding is from shaft seals.”
    A pit formed in Sites’s stomach. That was the one place they could not afford to have flooding. Other hull penetrations had primary and backup valves that could be shut, isolating breaches. The shaft had elaborate seals instead. If they failed, there was no valve to shut, but older submarines had an emergency “boot,” which could be inflated around the shaft to stop flooding. Unfortunately, NAVSEA engineers, in their infinite wisdom, had not designed an inflatable boot into Virginia class submarines.
    They were screwed.
    Movement on the other side of the Engine Room caught Sites’s attention. Chief Scalise and the two mechanics were moving aft, working their way between the high-pressure streams ricocheting throughout the Engine Room. The two Petty Officers each carried a green tool kit.
    Sites shouted into his WIFCOM again. “Scalise, XO. What is your plan?”
    Scalise replied, “Our shaft seals are designed so they can be tightened down, mating with the shaft. We just have to get there.”
    Scalise and the other two mechanics disappeared as they worked their way aft. A few minutes later, the torrent of water streaming into the Engine Room abated, then slowed to a trickle before ceasing altogether.
    *   *   *
    “Control, Maneuvering. The flooding is stopped.”
    Tolbert acknowledged the report, and he felt the submarine’s deck returning to an even keel as the trim and drain pumps dewatered the Engine Room bilges. Depth was six hundred feet. They were still sinking, but the rate was slowing.
    North Dakota returned to an even keel at the same time the submarine stopped sinking, then the numbers on the depth gage reversed. North Dakota began rising toward the surface.
    “Co-Pilot,” Tolbert ordered. “Hover at three hundred feet.”
    YURY DOLGORUKY
    As Dolgoruky headed toward the ocean floor, Stepanov pulled himself into Compartment One. There was no one behind him and he ordered the watertight door sealed. As the door swung shut, he spotted three men in Compartment Two—Michman Glinka and the submarine’s senior enlisted man, Chief Ship Starshina Egor Lukin, dragging their unconscious First Officer. As the rising water began surging through the opening into Compartment One, Stepanov assessed whether they could shut the door if he waited. He ordered the door kept open.
    “Hurry!” Stepanov shouted.
    When Glinka and Lukin reached the doorway, Stepanov helped drag his First Officer, who was bleeding heavily from a head laceration, into the compartment. Glinka and Lukin followed and Stepanov ordered the door shut. As water surged through the doorway, their feet slipped on the wet, sloping deck. Stepanov lent a shoulder and the door inched shut. Once closed, Stepanov spun the handwheel, engaging the lugs.
    Dolgoruky shuddered and Stepanov and the others flew backward, bouncing off equipment, while water burst from the ventilation vents. Lukin clambered to his feet and shut the ventilation isolation valve, completely sealing Compartment One. A moment later, the lights in the compartment extinguished, enveloping Stepanov and his men in darkness.

 
    11
    USS NORTH DAKOTA
    As North Dakota hovered at three hundred feet, Tolbert assessed the condition of his crew and ship. The flooding had been stopped and the Engine Room bilges were being dewatered. A dozen watchstanders in Control had been knocked to the deck by the second impact, but they had picked themselves up and no one appeared injured. The situation could have been far worse.
    Lieutenant Commander Sites entered Control. He was soaked through and shivering.
    “Damn, that water is cold,” he said as he stopped beside Tolbert.
    “Well done, XO,” Tolbert replied.
    “The credit goes to Chief Scalise and M-Division. They tightened the shaft seals.”
    Tolbert nodded. “I’ll thank them when I get a chance. What’s the status of the Engine Room?”
    “Main propulsion is out. The propulsor must have been