The Defector

As the Russian Federation’s P-650 midget submarine stealthily entered Ukrainian waters outside the port city of Odesa, Colonel Aleksei Assonov wanted nothing more than to get him and the other five members of his special operations team out of this pressurized tube and onto land. He had nothing against the crew or the submarine clandestinely taking them through the port and into the Dnieper River. His uneasiness stemmed from feeling helpless within the confines of the submersible and leaving his fate in the hands of others. Although the two hundred thirty-seven mile trip from Sevastopol, Crimea, was uneventful, they were now in an area ringed with anti-ship missiles, with the waters outside published sea lanes, which had sophisticated undersea detection devices, saturated with mines. The midget was supposed to be quiet enough to be undetectable to the sea lane detection devices. However, the only way he’d know if that belief was accurate was if he lived because, given the relations between both countries, they were as good as dead if discovered, as the Ukrainians weren’t going to ask for their surrender. He would have preferred to leave the submarine outside the port and use underwater scooters to take them to their target. In his experience, the scooters were so quiet that they were impossible to detect. However, because they were there to kidnap a scientist and his wife, Fedir and Olena Kuzma, both in their late fifties, the mission planners expressed significant doubt whether the scared and apprehensive couple could survive an extended underwater ride in the dark, even with cold water wetsuits, with the water at fifty-three degrees Fahrenheit. Therefore, they needed to sail up the Dnieper River to the top secret lab operated by the National Academy of Sciences where, according to the intelligence report he received, the scientist worked every day from ten at night to the following morning because he was a workaholic and believed there would be fewer distractions during these hours. His wife was said to rarely leave their home, which was in the residential development for Academy employees next to her husband’s place of work. The plan was that after they brought the couple onboard, the submarine would return to Sevastopol. From there, each would be taken to a different destination. The submarine was cruising at four mph as it crossed the eastern part of Odesa Harbour and entered the mouth of the Dnieper River. However, because the river shallowed quickly, the captain surfaced for the rest of the journey. Although that technically meant someone could see the craft, the glow of intermittent lights from shore didn’t reach the center of the river, allowing the submarine to remain in darkness as it navigated through the shallow waters. One hour later, the captain stopped the craft and summoned Assonov to the bridge. “We’re at the coordinates,” the captain said. The colonel, in combat gear like the rest of his team, with night vision goggles atop his helmet, a backpack, and an AS VAL suppressed assault rifle slung over his right shoulder, shook his head in acknowledgment. “Keep your submarine here until we return," he said. "We may need a fast escape.” “Daylight is in seven hours,” the captain stated. "I can't submerge until I'm nearly at the mouth of the river. If you’re late, we’ll be seen." “I know, and I don’t care. Don’t move this vessel,” Assonov said, not waiting for a response before leading his team on deck. It was a moonless night as the special ops team brought their rigid inflatable boat, or RIB, on deck and inflated it with high-pressure air before sliding it onto the water. Once everyone was in, the helmsman turned on the fifty-hp engine, which had a top speed of thirty-seven mph. “We’re two miles away. Set a course for zero-nine-five,” the colonel said as he looked at his handheld GPS device. The helmsman gently pushed the throttle forward, adjusting the inflatable’s course as the RIB silently took off.