“Vasiliy, tell him to stay on station and continue his search regardless. The Americans are too wily to die so easily. Even if the submarine has been destroyed, there is a good chance they had not yet rendezvoused with the invasion force which kidnapped our president.”

Zhurkov looked at him oddly, nodded, and spoke into the handset.

Durov glanced around the room. “Any communications with our submarines?” he asked, knowing the answer even as the words left his mouth.

“No, Admiral. It is still a couple of hours before they start shooting. The last of them should just be getting into his shooting box now. That would be Vipr in the Baltic. Anatol Vivilav had the longest distance to travel.”

“Yes, Anatol,” Durov said with a thoughtful nod. “We asked much of Captain Vivilav. Sneaking past the Americans and the British out in the Norwegian Sea. Threading through the Kattegat into the Baltic. It is a lot to ask, but Vivilav is a tough submariner. He will be on time. Of that you can be sure.”

The old admiral rocked on his heels, with the most contented expression on his face Vasiliy Zhurkov had ever seen.

Bill Beaman stood between Hector Gonzales and Sam Donlan, watching over their shoulders as they maneuvered the mini-submarine. The ASDV was at the rendezvous point. Gonzales was circling the area while Donlan searched for the Toledo. Something that massive should have been easy to locate, but so far, there was no sign of the submarine.

The two Russian Grisha frigates intermittently pinged away farther south. Their sonars were gaining strength as they closed in on the spot in the fjord where the ASDV searched. The threat intercept receiver showed a signal strength of thirty-nine.

Beaman pointed to the receiver. “Didn’t you say thirty-nine was the magic number? Above that and they would know we were down here?”

Donlan glanced over at the big SEAL and explained, “It ain’t quite that cut-and-dried. Above thirty-nine decibels, they have a chance of detecting us, assuming the operator is awake, his gear is tuned, and he can sort our return out of all the other clutter he is looking at down here in the mud.”

“Okay, just makin’ sure we’re not on Candid Camera yet.”

Gonzales looked up from the navigation screen. “Skipper, to tell you the truth, right now those two guys are the least of our worries. We need to find Toledo, if she’s still out there in one piece. Our batteries are gettin’ a little low and our guest back there needs a doctor pretty quick. If you want to help, go out the hatch, swim around out there, and find that sub for us.”

“All right, I read you,” Beaman answered sheepishly. “‘Quit buggin’ us. We got work to do.’”