The michman backed out of the switchboard, moving gingerly to keep from brushing against the bus bars on his left through which five hundred volts of fifty-hertz power coursed. Touching one meant electrocution. The man’s body would be fried as his muscles locked up, preventing him from moving away from the current’s grasp. He stood up straight when he was well clear of the panel’s innards. He removed the thick rubber gloves and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“First Officer, it is done,” the technician grunted. “All the bolts are tight.”

Without reply, Dmolysti grabbed a phone and called Anatol Vivilav. “Captain, the repairs are complete. We are ready to turn it on and test the work.”

“Good work, Anistov,” the submarine’s skipper answered. “Have everyone stand clear and we will energize the circuits.”

“Captain, everyone is clear. We are ready.”

Dmolysti picked up a fire extinguisher, just in case something might still be wrong. He held his breath, recalling the fire that caused this damage. The green POWER AVAILABLE lights blinked on.

There was no telltale flash of light or puff of black smoke. Dmolysti allowed himself to breathe again. It must be working.

Now they would be able to once again run quieter and faster. He grabbed the phone again. “Captain, the seawater pump bus is reenergized. Everything looks to be normal. Restoring seawater systems to normal silent lineup.”

He turned to the michman in charge of the engine room and ordered the lineup shifted. Now they would once again be difficult to locate. He silently prayed no one had detected their transit thus far.

“What do you mean you lost them?” Jeff Stroud shouted. Anzio’s system had been tracking the Akula flawlessly for hours. It was great to have his sonar boys at the center of everything on board instead of relying on those hotshots that ran the radar system. It had been one of his own boys who lost their contact. “How could you lose a frequency that strong? That looked like somebody beating on a trash can with a baseball bat. The only way to lose it would be to turn the screen off.”

He looked over the sonar man’s shoulder, staring at the screen. Sure enough, it no longer displayed the telltale peak at the fifteen-hertz mark. Anzio’s SQQ-89 was not hearing the Akula’s noise anymore.

“I don’t know, Chief. One second he was there, next he was gone.”

Stroud slammed down his coffee cup.

“Shit,” he growled. “The bastards changed something. Search every frequency. We got to start all over again. I better tell the commodore. Maybe he can pull a rabbit out of his hat again.”

He called over to CIC to speak with Ward.