Free Tidal Rip by Joe Buff

weapons-targeting equipment were modified. Each of the two dozen vertical tubes in the “Sherwood Forest” aft of the sail—“conning tower” in old-style parlance—was fitted with a sleeve. Within that sleeve the tube held seven Tactical Tomahawks or other cruise missiles instead of a single submarine-launched ICBM tipped with multiple hydrogen bombs. A single SSGN could carry about 150 Tomahawks, a very strong force for projecting power onto land.
    “Until today we had no idea where the new German SSGN was being hidden, Captain. Now we’re pretty sure we do. Infrared and visual satellite surveillance data seem to jibe with a garbled report the Brits say they got from a Norwegian resistance group. A short-lived but odd heat signature out of ventilator shafts from under a mountain in northernmost Norway. Sabotage attempted but failed. Then suddenly increased signal traffic between Russian surface warships in the Norwegian Sea. All of this just within the last hour or two…The different pieces of the puzzle strongly suggest the German SSGN is putting to sea, if she hasn’t already.”
    “Armed with a hundred fifty nuclear-tipped supersonic antiship cruise missiles.” Jeffrey made it a statement not a question. He was truly stimulated, and very worried, now.
    “Yes. And we don’t know if they’ve got any of those scary Mach eight missiles left…. The Axis is under huge time pressure too, getting their SSGN into combat. One of the few things we do know about this monster is its name, by the way. The Admiral von Scheer .”
    “Cute,” Jeffrey said sarcastically.
    “Yes, the ironic historical reference has not been lost on our naval intelligence people.”
    “The von Scheer is going after the convoy. Our convoy’s sailing is forcing their hand.”
    “Roger that.” The president drew a dotted line on the map, from the question mark in Northern Europe diagonally down toward the mid-Atlantic. “And you, Captain Fuller, and your crew and your ship, are going to go after the von Scheer .”
    “Sink the von Scheer, protect the convoy, relieve the African pocket.”
    “Precisely. We’re playing a very high-stakes game of dominoes here. If the von Scheer sinks you, or gets past you and destroys the convoy, all the dominoes fall. If we lose our toehold in Africa, I don’t want to think how we’ll ever dislodge the Axis from there or continental Europe.”
    “Understood.” A big buildup in Britain and then a D-day-like invasion across the English Channel were out of the question in the face of atomic weapons. Jeffrey realized his new orders demanded the utmost from him tactically, with serious strategic consequences depending on whether he won or lost against the German SSGN. Part of him groaned inside, knowing how relentlessly taxed his body and mind would be in the impending confrontation. His skills at thinking on his feet, and at keeping his crew focused and levelheaded amid deafening chaos and grinding uncertainty, would be tested to the ultimate limit.
    “Good,” the president said. “I’m glad to see you’re taking this so seriously. It’s a very serious business.”
    The president took the pen and drew a question mark on South America. “Another danger area. Instability and risk.” He drew a dotted line from Brazil and Argentina up toward the mid-Atlantic. “Notice where all the lines intersect.”
    “Right in the Atlantic Narrows,” Jeffrey said.
    “Yup. The narrowest part of the whole Atlantic Ocean, where the northeast tip of Brazil juts out toward the westernmost tip of North Africa. A nautical choke point, one that’s going to become a tactical nuclear maelstrom soon.”
    “If the Axis can gain control of that part of Brazil,” Jeffrey said, “and given what they hold in western Africa, they’d be able to cut the Atlantic Ocean in half around that choke point. Subsonic cruise missiles launched from the opposing coasts could overlap their reach, hit any surface ships or planes that