Twenty-five miles away, the Sea King flight engineer hurried back from the cockpit, stopping in front of Kaz.
“Commander, we just got contact with the Apollo crew.” He tilted his head towards the cockpit. “You’re the senior officer, and the pilot needs you on the radio now, sir.” He looked at Colombo. “You too, PO.”
They followed him to the cockpit, where he handed Kaz headphones and showed him where the transmit button was. Colombo donned a second pair to listen.
“Apollo 18, Apollo 18, Kaz here, how do you read me?” Kaz spoke loudly above the helo’s noise, holding one earphone tight against his head.
Chad’s voice came back, crackling with static. “Kaz! We’re in the raft, and there’s a Commie submarine here! They’re launching a boat to come take the cosmonaut.”
Shit! Kaz turned and yelled to the pilot. “How long to get there?”
“We’re twenty-four miles out—nine minutes.”
Kaz pushed the mic button. “Copy, Chad, we’ll be there in nine minutes. Two helos, one with . . .” He stopped himself, realizing that the Russian sub would be listening to their communications. He looked out the side window at the other chopper and turned to the flight engineer. “Is that helo on this freq?”
A nod.
“Helo 501, get Dr. McKinley on the radio.” As he waited, Kaz talked urgently with the pilot and flight engineer, briefing possible options.
JW’s voice was in the headsets. “Dr. McKinley’s listening.”
Kaz updated him on the situation and what he wanted them to do.
JW’s voice was crisp. “Copy, Kaz, I’ll let this crew know.”
All eyes strained forward, trying to spot the splashdown site. The flight engineer tapped the pilot’s shoulder, pointing slightly left. “There it is!”
Low in the water, barely visible on the horizon, the long black shape of the submarine glinted in the sunlight, its conning tower jutting squarely up. Just visible was the splash of yellow of the raft. Kaz talked hurriedly with Colombo, who went back to brief his men.
In the raft, Chad held the radio out to Michael. “You direct them in.”
Michael took it, puzzled, as Chad grabbed the open survival kit and dragged it forward. Kaz’s voice rattled loudly in Michael’s hand. “We’re seven minutes out. Sitrep.”
Michael looked across at the sub. “They have a black Zodiac on deck, and it looks like two frogmen are getting in to head this way.” He squinted, trying to see detail. “Looks like they’re armed, Kaz!”
As Michael was speaking, Chad turned away from Svetlana, his suit blocking her view. He dug into the survival kit bag, found what he was looking for and slid it into his leg pocket. As he turned, she spoke to him in Russian.
“Where is it?”
He looked at her. “What?”
She spoke rapid-fire. “I know you understand me! Stop being an idiot. The stone! Where is Lunokhod’s stone?”
Chad frowned, shaking his head. “Don’t understand you, toots.” He glanced at Michael. “Any idea what she wants?”
Michael shrugged. “Beats me.” He looked across at the Soviet Zodiac, now in the water. “How do you want to handle this?”
They heard the outboard motor sputter to life and saw a white curl start under the Zodiac’s bow. Chad yelled, “If that helo doesn’t get here in time, then there’s not much we can do. She belongs to them, and they came all this way to get her.”
Svetlana looked back and forth at the two men, and then at the Zodiac. Time to act. She reached down, unzipped her leg pocket, pulled out the pistol and pointed it at Chad.
“We are out of time. Give me the stone. Now!”
Michael stared, incredulous, and pushed the transmit button on the radio as he yelled, “Chad, she’s got a gun!”
“I see that.” Chad’s voice was calm as he looked directly at her, shaking his head slowly. “Whatever you want, girly, I don’t have it.” He pointed across the prow of the sub at Pursuit. “Did you forget something in the spaceship?” He pointed again. “Makeup, or something common?” He accented the last word.
Svetlana frowned. Did he just say “kahmen”？ The Russian word for stone. She snorted in frustration and shouted at him again. “Stop playing games! Is the stone inside the capsule?”
Chad nodded yes. “That’s right, toots, you keep babbling. Your cavalry’s almost here to rescue you.”
Michael felt paralyzed. Where the fuck did she get a gun? And what does she want? He kept his thumb on the mic button, holding it down.