"We're under the arctic ice field now, ma'am," Helmsley reported with evident satisfaction.
In all his years in the Navy he had never seen a Captain drill a crew so often and as hard as Rousey had during this mission so far. Part of him actually liked it, and so did some of the other men. It gave them a challenge to rise to. Others of course, hated it. Although they wouldn't dare say it to her, they viewed their Captain as a woman doing a man's job, who therefore had a point to prove as was putting them through an excessive amount of work as a result. As Chief of the Boat, he had made to stamp on that nonsense whenever he'd heard it. Whether the crew liked her style or not, Rousey was their Captain and therefore worthy of, and entitled to, the utmost respect.
Despite the time spent on the drills, the Iowa had just reached the ice cap slightly ahead of schedule, which was the reason for his satisfaction.
"Very well," was the only acknowledgement he received from her. It didn't surprise him. By now he was already learning to look for recognition of work well done in her tone rather than in the words she chose to use. It had been there that time, which made him want to smile in a strange kind of amusement. She was an unconventional leader, but he was happy to work under her.
"Ahead two thirds," Rousey ordered next.
"Ahead two thirds, aye."
The boat began to slow down as ordered. Now that they were on station, their orders were to patrol until receiving further orders.
Only a few minutes had gone by when the voice of Seth Rollins, Iowa's senior sonar operator came over the PA system, speaking quite urgently. "Conn, Sonar. Contact, bearing 250. Range 15,000 yards." A moment later he added, "Contact is submerged and moving fast. Classify as Russian Akula class submarine. It could be one of Kozlov's, ma'am!"
Rousey had already reached that conclusion herself and barked out, "All stop! I want absolute silence!"
"All stop, aye," Helmsley acknowledged quickly.
Meanwhile XO Reigns got on the PA system and set it to communicate with the entire boat. "All stations, maintain absolute silence," he ordered, keeping his voice lower than normal.
Iowa's two enormous propellers had stopped rotating, leaving the boat to eventually glide to a stop. It hadn't happened often so far on the mission, but Reigns found himself acknowledging that he would have done the same thing as Rousey in that situation. Her plan was simple: Leave the Russian boat, which would struggle to hear anything with its own sonar as it was traveling at high speed, to pass by them, while they sat there in silence.
Captain Rousey had quietly stepped out of the control room to go to the sonar room. She walked in and crouched down beside Rollins, who was listening intently to his headset. "What's he doing, Rollins?" she whispered to him.
"Continuing on his course. Speed unchanged," he replied at an equal volume. "He didn't hear us."
"Lock his signature into the computer," she ordered.
"Aye, ma'am."
With a simple command typed into his equipment, the audio signature of the Russian submarine was saved for future reference. If they encountered the same boat again, it would be recognised immediately.
"Contact fading away," he was able to announce at last.
Rousey walked back into the control room and ordered, "Secure from silent running. Ahead one third."
Reigns repeated the order to the entire crew. Within moments, Iowa was back on patrol. In a first as far as the mission was concerned, Rousey turned and briefly flashed a smile at him. Knowing what she was feeling, he nodded and returned it. They had just encountered the enemy for the first time and had easily bested them. He couldn't help wondering though, if there would be a second time. And if there was, would they have it so easy?
"I have the conn," Rousey said as she returned to the control room following a bathroom break. There had been no further drama after the brief encounter with the Russian submarine a couple of hours earlier.
"The Captain has the conn," Reigns replied easily.
"Mr Reigns, what is the thickness of the ice here?"
Although he found the question a little odd, Reigns went and found a chart which showed the estimated thicknesses of the ice sheet. After finding their location, he announced, "Approximately two metres in this area, Captain."
Her next words, although they were delivered with her usual calm but authorititive style, stunned him to the core, partially because they came from nowhere and partially because they were close to insanity as far as he was concerned.
"Ahead two thirds. Make your depth 1600 feet. Ten degrees down angle."
"That's close to hull crush depth," he blurted out before Helmsley could carry out the order. He knew that the deeper the boat went, the more pressure the water placed on the hull. There was a certain point where the water pressure would exceed the strength of the hull, which would mean that Iowa would disintigrate and the crew would be killed instantly.
"I'm aware of that," Rousey replied with condescending tolerance. "Mr Helmsley, if you please."
Helmsley was looking the Captain right in the eyes. He remained that way for a second, which made his own thoughts as clear as he could risk without being relieved from his position and put on a charge. "Ahead two thirds. Make my depth 1600 feet, aye," he said hesitantly. "Ten degrees down angle."
Iowa began to descend into the depths. Over the next couple of minutes the tension in the control room became palpable, as it did elsewhere on the boat. It had escaped no one that they had been diving for a significant amount of time.
In Engineering, Martinez was trying not to let on that she was on the verge of panic. It was all she could do to stop herself from closing her eyes. It wasn't an option though as the enlisted men under her command would see her weakness.
"How deep are we going?" one of them asked her.
"I don't know," she managed to reply. "But it's deep."
At that moment the hull gave it's first brief, dull groan as the increasing water pressure exerted itself on it. Martinez gripped onto the edge of her workstation so hard that her knuckles turned white.
"Passing 1200 feet," Helmsley announced in the control room, reading from the digital display at his station.
The hull began to groan more and more often as they got deeper. Each one varied in length, tone and volume, but they were all equally as terrifying to Martinez, who thought that she might throw up at any moment.
"Passing 1500 feet," Helmsley said, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead.
Reigns just stood there, saying nothing despite how tempting it was. For him, Rousey had gone too far with this move, trying to prove that she had bigger balls than anyone else on the Iowa. He took a deep breath as Helmsley announced, "Leveling off at 1600 feet."
"All stop," Rousey ordered.
"All stop," Helmsley repeated.
The sound of Iowa's engines faded out, leaving them in silence. Everyone in the control room who could see it was looking at the display which showed their depth. It read 1601 feet.
"My God," someone murmered, as if they were somewhat surprised that they were not dead already.
Rousey picked up the PA handset and addressed the whole crew as the hull gave another long, menacing groan. "Crew of the Iowa, this is the Captain. Our orders were to test the boat to its limits during this mission. Our current depth is 1600 feet."
She paused for a moment as she knew that there would be a lot of muttering and gasps throughout the boat at that news. Martinez thought that she might be about to piss herself when she heard the announcement, and wished right then that she had never joined the Navy.
"We're at DEFCON three," Rousey continued. "That means that the order to fire our missiles could come at any time. If Kozlov decides to launch at the US, we'll have one hour to strike first. That means I want us to be able to get our birds in the air as soon as possible, should we be ordered to fire. I don't intend to spend half an hour of that precious time traveling to the edge of the ice sheet."
"Ladies and gentlemen, I told you that we have been given the best boat in the Navy and that you would become the best crew. This is why I have drilled you so hard during this mission. You have all responded well, and you can all be equally proud of what we're about to achieve."
Finished with the announcement, she replaced the handset and with a look of sheer determination her face, ordered, "Ahead full. Emergency surface."
"Ahead full, emergency surface," Helmsley repeated.
Iowa began to pick up speed and started her ascent to the surface. Within moments she was fairly rocketing upwards, and it dawned on Reigns what his Captain had in mind. More unnecessary craziness, in his opinion.
"Recommend staying below the ice, Captain," he said as they shot up through the 800 feet mark.
"Negative," she replied calmly.
"Captain, hitting the ice is an unnecessary..."
"Shut up," she ordered, plainly irritated.
"Captain, I really must..."
"Shut the fuck up!" she growled at him.
"Passing 300 feet," Helmsley announced.
Glaring at his Captain, Reigns turned and stormed out of the control room. Leaving his station without permission while on duty was a serious offense, but at that moment he didn't care. If Rousey wanted to smash the boat up and put the mission and the crew in danger then she could do it without him.
Glaring furiously after Reigns, Rousey grabbed the PA handset and announced, "All stop. Crew, prepare for impact."
In Engineering, Martinez had given up trying to put a brave face on her fear. She was holding onto her station as hard as she could and had her eyes closed as tight as could be. She just wanted it to be over.
"It's okay, ma'am," one of her enlisted men told her quietly, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. "This is some rough shit to go through on your first time on a boat."
She really appreciated the support, but she didn't get the chance to reply as at that moment the Iowa's sail made first contact with the ice sheet.
Although the engines had been stopped to prevent them from suffering damage during the collision, Iowa was still traveling at high speed when she hit the ice. Everyone in the boat was hanging on tight against the vibration, which felt like being in an earthquake.
On the surface, a large crack began to appear in the ice. Within seconds it got wider and wider until Iowa's sail smashed through, quickly followed by the rest of her enormous deck. With no power actually being put into driving the boat forward, the ice soon caused her to grind to a halt.
In the control room, Rousey picked up the PA handset again. "Crew of the Iowa, we are now on the surface."
A roar of delight, mixed with a sense of relief sounded throughout the boat, with almost everyone joining in. In Engineering, Martinez was joining in with her men. The relief that she felt was joined by a sense of achievement. She had just been through something that she would have thought wasn't possible, for herself or the boat.
Back in the control room, Rousey wasn't done with her announcement. After waiting for the cheering to die down, she continued, "Crew members who are not on duty can leave the boat for some fresh air for half an hour. They will then change over with those who are currently on duty."
Another cheer echoed through the boat. Half an hour of fresh air and exercise was a very welcome thing for a submariner. "That is all," she said and replaced the handset. As she did so, the angry expression returned to her face and she marched out of the control room in the same direction that Reigns had left in a couple of minutes earlier.
Reigns was pacing around his quarters, to the very limited extent that it was possible. Whether the crew had cheered Rousey's actions or not, he was furious with the reckless way that she chose to conduct her operations at sea. Enough was enough, and this last stunt was way more than enough. When his door flew open, he knew who it was before he even turned around to look.
"You will be in my report for leaving your station," Rousey snarled at him, almost squaring up to him after slamming the door closed behind her.
"And you will be in mine," he growled right back at her with equal anger in his tone. "You endangered the boat, the mission and the crew. One day your luck is going to run out. I hope that when that happens I'm on another boat."
The tension was radiating between them, and they both knew what had to happen next. They could see it in each other's eyes. There was no avoiding it. Regulations could be damned.
Reigns wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her tightly too him, and they began to kiss with a passion that made them almost frantic. He forced her to take a couple of steps backwards so that her back was pressed against the door. As her hands began to work on unfastening his pants, he locked the door. Now nothing and nobody could stop them.
Half an hour later, one half of Iowa's crew were about to come back onto the boat following their seemingly very brief time on the ice. The other half of the crew, who were now allowed their own half hour of leisure, had just joined them. Rousey, Reigns and Helmsley remained on the sail, so that the boat wasn't unmanned. One of the enlisted men had found a camera from somewhere and shouted out for everyone to gather round.
Rousey was looking through a set of binoculars, scanning the horizon, not that there was anything to see other than ice, and more ice.
"One of the men is going to take a picture," Reigns said to her, pointing down at the man with the camera, who was still trying to organise everyone.
"Good," she replied, nodding as she put down the binoculars. "When we get back from this mission, we'll have large print of it framed and hung in the Enlisted Men's Mess. You might not like my methods, Roman, but I made a crew out of these people today."
"Everyone ready?" the ship's new cameraman shouted, now that everyone had gathered around in front of the boat. The Captain, XO and Chief Helmsley were in the shot too, at the top of the sail, along with the flag of the United States. The picture was perfect. He pressed the shutter button, and with that the moment was captured forever.
