Vivilav measured the distance. At normal cruising speed, and even with the far riskier course, they would still arrive half a day late. He would have to travel faster, at least thirty kilometers per hour. Vipr could make the trip at twice that speed. It wasn’t a matter of how fast the submarine could go, but rather how fast she could go quietly. Every extra kph above her quiet cruising speed equated to an increased risk of being detected.

Vivilav idly scratched his ear. Vipr’s maximum quiet cruising speed was fifteen kilometers per hour. They needed to go twice that fast.

He stared hard at the chart as he ground out the cigarette and lit yet another one. He had to travel fast, but still not be found. It was all a risk, but that’s what he was trained for. He would stay at quiet cruising speed until he rounded North Cape. That would get Vipr past any American submarines that were lurking in the Barents. Then he would take his chances and dash boldly down the Norwegian coastline.

As Anatol Vivilav rolled the chart and stuffed it back into the safe, he heard a quiet knock at the door. It was the first officer again.

“It’s time, Captain. Vipr is ready for sea.”

Vivilav nodded and reached into a locker for his heavy bridge coat and fur hat. The winds would be cold out on the fjord tonight.

Chapter 24

Jason Hall laboriously worked his way upward, using brute strength to pull his body up the sheer rock face. The heavy equipment he carried threatened to drag him down, and it was a long, long fall back down the steep slope. Even in the frigid Arctic night, sweat washed into his eyes and soaked his shirt inside his white parka as he fought to reach the ledge he was climbing for. It was still just a couple of meters farther up. He got a good grip on a crevice and glanced back down. Tony Martinelli was just below him, working over the rocks. Hall knew if he slipped now, he would take his team member down with him.

“Just a little more, M. Almost there. I can see the ledge.”

“Gee, thanks. You said that a half hour ago and I’m still looking at your ass.”

It had taken longer than they had estimated to make their way around the sprawling submarine base and up to this perch, high on the headlands. It was midnight, four hours since they had left the little temporary command post and the rest of the team. The light wind below was gusting up here. The thick cloud cover scudded high overhead, doing its best to erase the starlight.

Hall pulled himself up to the narrow rock shelf and lay there, gasping for air. Minutes later, Martinelli rolled over the edge and joined him.