“Let me think while we head back up the hill. They can’t slip a boat out without us seeing it, but the problem is that we don’t have any idea how many more boats they have ready in there. The one that floated out could have been the only one they have in the whole fleet. Or there could be a dozen more sitting there inside that barn. Chief, I think it is incumbent on us to find out or Admiral Donnegan will have our frostbit hides. Come on, let’s get moving.”

Beaman started crawling. He stayed low and kept silent as he slipped like a hunting predator through the depths of the forest. Chief Johnston was little more than a silent wraith several meters behind him.

Anatol Vivilav stood in the submarine’s control room as the Vipr swam through the cold Barents. The passage out of the Murmansk Fjord had been without incident. Its tall hillsides had faded into the distance at the sub’s stern and then disappeared altogether. The crew of Vipr had not seen it. They had been beneath the surface since first entering the fjord.

So far there was no sign of any American submarine or any other warship. Vivilav was relieved. The Americans were playing it safe, not risking any kind of showdown with the Russians during such tense times. Their usual pack of observing submarines was standing off at a safe distance.

The Russian submariner watched with pride as his crew steered the big boat. They were good, well practiced in the trainers, but they lacked sea time. The captain would gladly have sacrificed weeks of work in the trainer for the opportunity to drill his men for just a day of real time at sea. He envied the American submariners, with all the time they spent sailing the world’s oceans. Vivilav knew that, as good and faithful as his men were, they were no match for the American submariners’ practical, oceangoing experience.

Despite the lack of any American presence so far, he would be very cautious until they were beyond the Barents. If he could guide Vipr out into the Norwegian Sea without being discovered, the odds would be in his favor to make it all the way to the Kattegat. He would worry about navigating that treacherous narrow body of water later, when they were much closer. One problem at a time.

First Officer Anistov Dmolysti stepped over to stand beside him. He kept his voice low when he spoke. “They are doing well, Captain. They are learning quickly.”

Vivilav glanced around the cramped control room before he answered. The men sitting there, driving the submarine, seemed little more than boys, fresh from some youth camp or university classes. There was no way to know if they were ready for the trials that lay ahead. Vivilav knew that could not be determined today. “Yes, but they will have to.”

“Do we know our mission?” Dmolysti asked.