The strobe light on the submersible's cameras seemed to flash endlessly as the tiny intruder circled the immense hulk. A large two-foot, rat-tailed fish with huge eyes and a heavy armored head skittered over the slanting decks, showing total unconcern for the exploding beams of light.

    After what seemed like hours, the submersible, the faces of its crew still glued to the viewports, rose over the first-class lounge roof, hovered for a few moments, then deposited a small electronic-signal capsule. Its low frequency impulses would now provide a traceable guideline for future dives to the wreck. Then the submersible made a gliding turn upward, her lights blinked out, and she melted back into the darkness from whence she had come.

    Except for the few sparks of marine life that had somehow managed to adapt to survival in the black, bitter-cold environment, the Titanic was alone once more. But soon other submersibles would come and she would feel the tools of man working on her steel skin again, as she had so many years ago at the great slipways of the Harland and Wolff shipbuilding firm in Belfast.

    Then, just perhaps, she would make her first port after all.

THE TITANIC

May 1988

37

    In a measured and precise manner, the Soviet General Secretary, Georgi Antonov lit his pipe and surveyed the other men seated around the long mahogany conference table.

    To his right sat Admiral Boris Sloyuk, director of Soviet Naval Intelligence, and his aide, Captain Prevlov. Opposite them were Vladimir Polevoi, Chief of the Foreign Secrets Department of the KGB, and Vasily Tilevitch, Marshal of the Soviet Union and chief director of Soviet Security.

    Antonov came straight to the point "Well now, it seems the Americans are determined to raise the Titanic to the surface." He studied the papers sitting before him a few moments before continuing. "An extensive effort by the look of it. Two supply ships, three tenders, four deep-sea submersibles." He looked up at Admiral Sloyuk and Prevlov. "Do we have an observer in the area?"

    Prevlov nodded. "The oceanographic research vessel Mikhail Kurkov, under the command of Captain Ivan Parotkin, is cruising the salvage perimeter."

    "I know Parotkin personally," Sloyuk added. "He is a good seaman."

    "If the Americans are spending hundreds of millions of dollars in an attempt to salvage a seventy-six-year-old piece of scrap," Antonov said, "there must be a logical motivation."

    "There is a motivation," Admiral Sloyuk said gravely. "A motivation that threatens our very security." He nodded to Prevlov, who began passing out a red folder marked "Sicilian Project" to Antonov and the men across the table. "That is why I requested this meeting. My people have discovered outline plans for a new secret American defense system. I think you will find it a shocking, if not terrifying, study."

    Antonov and the others opened the folders and began reading. For perhaps five minutes, the Soviet General Secretary read, occasionally glancing in Sloyuk's direction. Antonov's face went through a wide range of expressions, beginning with professional interest to frank bewilderment, to astonishment, and, finally, stunned realization.

    "This, is incredible, Admiral Sloyuk, absolutely incredible."

    "Is such a defense system possible?" Marshal Tilevitch asked.

    "I have put the same question to five of our most respected scientists. They all agreed, theoretically, that such a system is feasible, provided a strong enough power source is available."

    "And you assume this source lies in the cargo holds of the Titanic?" Tilevitch put to him.

    "We are certain of it, Comrade Marshal. As I mentioned in the report, the vital ingredient needed for the completion of the Sicilian Project is a little-known element called byzanium. We now know the Americans stole the world's only supply from Russian soil seventy-six years ago. Fortunately for us, they had the ill luck to transport it on a doomed ship."

    Antonov shook his head in utter incomprehension. "If what you say in your report is true, then the Americans have the potential to knock down our intercontinental missiles as effortlessly as a goatherd swats flies.''

    Sloyuk nodded solemnly. "I am afraid that is the fearful truth."

    Polevoi leaned across the table, his face a mask of suspicious consternation. "You state here that your contact is a high-level aide in the United States Department of Defense."

    "That is correct." Prevlov nodded respectfully. "He became disillusioned with the American government during the Watergate affair and has since sent me whatever material he deems important."

    Antonov stared piercingly into Prevlov's eyes. "Do you think they can do it, Captain Prevlov?"

    "Raise the Titanic?"

    Antonov nodded.

    Prevlov stared back. "If you will recall the Central Intelligence Agency's successful recovery of one of our Soviet nuclear submarines in seventeen thousand feet of water off Hawaii in 1974-I believe the CIA referred to it as Project Jennifer-there is little doubt that the Americans have the technical capability to put the Titanic in New York harbor. Yes, Comrade Antonov, I firmly believe they will do it.

    "I do not share your opinion," said Polevoi. "A vessel the size of the Titanic is a far cry from a submarine."

    "I have to throw in my lot with Captain Prevlov," Sloyuk argued. "The Americans have an annoying habit of accomplishing what they set out to do."

    "And what of this Sicilian Project?" Polevoi persisted. "The KGB has received no detailed data concerning its existence except the code name. How do we know the Americans have not created a mythical project to play a bluffing hand at the negotiations to limit strategic nuclear delivery systems?"

    Antonov rapped his knuckles on the tabletop. "The Americans do not bluff. Comrade Khrushchev found that out twenty-five years ago during the Cuban missile crisis. We cannot ignore any possibility, however remote, that they are on the verge of making this defense system operational as soon as they salvage the byzanium from the hull of the Titanic. "He paused to suck on his pipe stem. "I suggest that our next thoughts be directed toward a course of action."

    "Quite obviously we must see to it that the byzanium never reaches the United States," Marshal Tilevitch said.

    Polevoi drummed his fingers on the Sicilian Project file. "Sabotage. We must sabotage the salvage operation. There is no other way."

    "There must be no incident with international repercussions," Antonov said firmly. "There can be no suggestion of interference through overt military action. I do not want Soviet-United States relations jeopardized during yet another bad crop year. Is that clear?"

    "We can do nothing unless we penetrate the salvage area," Tilevitch persisted.

    Polevoi stared across the table at Sloyuk. "What steps have the Americans taken to protect the operation?"

    "The nuclear-powered guided-missile cruiser Juneau is patrolling within sight of the salvage ships on a twenty-four-hour basis."

    "May I speak?" Prevlov asked almost condescendingly. He did not wait for an answer. "With due consideration, comrades, the penetration has already taken place"

    Antonov looked up. "Please explain yourself, Captain."

    Prevlov took a side glance at his superior. Admiral Sloyuk acknowledged him with a faint nod.