“Jesus,” Glass answered. “New boat. Not shaken down. Who knows what might have gone sour on the thing? Okay, so we tell the Russians what we know and they crank up an effort to go up there and get their guys. They’re not that far from Polyarnyy. You still haven’t explained why we’re here in the middle of all this hurry-up and secrecy.”

“You’re getting ahead of the story, Joe. The Russians claim they don’t have any boats at sea at all right now and that none have gone missing. Our last satellite pass did show all their boats accounted for, all cold iron sitting right there alongside their piers. To top that, they are bringing up that old claim again about the Barents being a territorial sea. They told us in no uncertain terms to stay out of there.”

A clanging bell outside the door grabbed Glass’s attention. He looked up to see one of the green war-shot torpedoes sliding ominously down the loading hoist. “Jon, you haven’t told me why we’re loading war-shot torpedoes if we’re looking for a sunken Russian sub.”

“Those aren’t ordinary fish you’re loading,” Jon Ward said. “They are specially outfitted for underice operations. The sonar and the electronics are tuned for that environment. Those are the only four underice ADCAP torpedoes in our entire inventory.”

Glass swallowed hard. “You still haven’t answered my question. Why do I need them?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Joe Glass could hear the faint hum of the secure phone line, the creaking of the hoist that was lowering the sophisticated ordnance into the bowels of his boat.

“Joe, Miami was supposed to communicate again twelve hours after her first message,” Jon Ward answered. “We haven’t heard a thing since. She has been overdue for more than a day now.”

“What do you think, Jon?”

“I don’t know. But, Joe, you better be damn careful up there.”

Chapter 9

Joe Glass watched from high atop the sail as the big yellow-and-orange Royal Navy tugs churned up alongside his submarine, preparing to pull Toledo away from the pier. He took a deep breath. The chill wind blowing down from the north felt invigorating, even as the bits of sleet and snow it bore stung as they nipped at his face.

Dawn was still three hours away. It had been a long night, capping off a hard day. Glass knew he was about to embark with his boat and crew on a mission that had real purpose. There was also the uncertainty. He had no way to know if he and his men were ready for what they might find up there on top of the world, beneath the unforgiving ice.