The darkened room was buzzing with activity. People were busily plotting bearings coming from sonar, trying to squeeze every bit of information they could get out of the faint signals they were detecting. Over in a corner, a group was working on getting Anzio’s SH-60B Sea Hawk helicopter up in the air. The twin-engine chopper’s APS-124 radar extended the cruiser’s eyes over the horizon while the 125 sonobuoys that the helicopter carried sharpened Anzio’s ears considerably. All this was tied to the ship’s Aegis computer by a secure, high-speed data link.

Bob Norquest hopped out of the commander’s seat and hurried across the CIC to meet Ward as he stepped though the hatch. He grinned. “How did you know, Commodore? How did you know that rascal was out there?”

Ward answered with a sly smile, “An old submariner’s trick, Skipper. I just guessed where he had to be and how he had to go to get there.” Ward walked across the room to look at the large display. “What do you have so far?”

Norquest nudged the trackball at his desk so that the cursor moved over to the same red inverted U Ward had been watching before. It now had a much smaller ellipse drawn around it, one hundred and fifty miles along its major axis and twenty miles wide on the minor one. The area around the target submarine seemed like a small bit of ocean on this scale, but in reality, it covered over five thousand square miles of stormy Norwegian Sea.

“That’s sierra two-seven,” Norquest offered. “I put a ninety-five percent probability ellipse around our best guess of where he’s hiding. As soon as we get Foxtrot Three Two in the air, we’ll be able to triangulate the bearings and get a lot smaller ellipse.”

Ward grunted. “We’ll need it. That guy will be a bitch to track. Have you called the P-3s yet?” It was time to call in the airborne ASW assets. The P-3C Orion was the best way to find and track a submarine if there was no other friendly sub that could be used.

Norquest shook his head. “Not yet. We’re waiting to get the Akula localized first, get him pinned down just a bit more.”

Ward stared at the cruiser skipper in amazement, his head cocked sideways. He clenched his fists and fought to hold himself in check.

Nobody who claimed to be an expert at antisubmarine warfare could do something so stupid. Not unless he was trying to lose this guy.