3.

One of those desperate men wiped sweat off his face. He was a little over thirty kilometers away, deep under the tossing waves. The captain of the Riga stepped behind the tracking officer. The officer tapped a chart, and whispered, “As clear as it’s going to get, sir.”

The captain closed his eyes. He was queasy. The enemy’s hunter/killers were too efficient. Too many fellow captains had already paid the ultimate price for this wild strategy. Yet he nodded. One must obey Enkov.

“Fire one and two,” he whispered.

The watch officer stared at him. Everyone else held his breath.

“Fire,” repeated the captain. “Tubes one and two.”

“Firing one and two, sir,” said the firing officer.

The Riga shuddered.

In the dark ocean depths, two nuclear-tipped missiles hurtled skyward. Enemy radar and sonar picked them up. Enemy officers roared orders. Planes turned to intercept. Counter missiles left circling bombers. Other bombers and choppers needed less than fifty seconds to rendezvous to the drop zone to let their ultra-powerful depth charges sink. None of them, however, were going to make it in time.