“Okay, so why can’t I have my phone and computer?” she demanded. “I could at least be getting some work done.”

Still smiling, Mikhail shook his head. “That is not to be allowed. You are to have no outside contact. Those are our orders.”

“Surely I can have my computer. You can monitor my calls. I have to let the authorities know what’s happening.”

“Is not possible. Our orders are very clear. I am sorry.”

“But—”

He stopped her with a beefy, upheld hand. Now the smile was gone. “Is not for discussion.”

Mikhail turned and marched out of the room. The door swung closed hard behind him.

Catherine Goldman heard the lock click shut with utter finality.

Commander Anatol Vivilav stood in the control room staring at the sonar screen before him. The green circle was cluttered, but it was all the noise of the heavy winter seas above them. The Russian captain could not believe his luck. Not a sign of the Americans! They normally shadowed any of the old Russian boats that left the fjord. Maybe the tension in the world over the submarines that had been lost had made them skittish, made them pull back to avoid any other confrontations. Still, the Americans’ sonars were better than his. They could be tracking Vipr at a distance. He had been maneuvering constantly in an attempt to unveil anyone trying to follow him.

There had not been a sign so far. Either someone very good was following them or they were all alone.

Vivilav moved from the sonar display to look once again at the navigation plot. Anistov Dmolysti worked to map their position on a large-scale chart of the Barents. It showed them about to turn the corner into the Norwegian Sea.

Dmolysti glanced up and nodded at Vivilav.

“We are making good progress, Captain,” he murmured. “Still, we are behind schedule. We are using too much time searching for trailers.”

Vivilav stared at the chart. Dmolysti was right. As it was, they would be required to set a pace well above Vipr’s best quiet speed. They would be going dangerously fast past some of the best antisubmarine warfare forces in the world. If Admiral Durov was correct, those forces would be out looking for them, more than ready to destroy Vipr if they could.

“You’re right, First Officer. We will stop the evasive maneuvers.”

The shrill scream of an alarm interrupted their conversation. Both men jumped and looked around, but everything in the control room looked normal.

Just then, the announcing system blared, “Fire! Fire in the engine room!”

“Anistov, go aft and take charge,” Vivilav shouted as he rushed over to the command center. Dmolysti was already running toward the engine room.

The first officer rushed through the compartments until he came to the watertight door leading to the engine room. It was shut. He pulled his air mask into place over his face before opening the door.