“Okay, now we’ll try again.” They were three miles from the ice now, and Chicago was quiet. The Alfa turned west, and McCafferty’s tracking party gathered data to compute her range. The turn west was a mistake. He evidently expected Chicago to run for the pack and safety. “Conn, sonar. New contact, bearing zero-zero-three.” Now what? Another Russian trap? “I need information!” “Very faint, but I got a bearing change, just moved to zero-zero-four.” A quartermaster looked up from his slide rule. “Range has to be under ten thousand yards, sir!” “Transients, transients!—torpedo in the water
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