Shattered Trident - Страница 67

“Aye, Captain.”

Samant was pleased. They’d gotten off the first six land-attack cruise missiles without a hitch, and the loading of the second salvo was well under way. In another few minutes, he’d be finished launching the last of the twelve-missile strike. Some fifteen minutes later, the oil refinery at Beihai would receive a very nasty surprise. The Chinese undoubtedly expected any Littoral Alliance cruise missile that used GPS or Glonass to miss their target. How ironic that their own satellite navigation system would foil their plan. He reveled in the fact that this was the first strategic strike by an Indian submarine on Chinese soil; his place in the history books would now be secured. But Samant had little time to fully appreciate his achievement, as the intercom speaker suddenly blared.

“New contact, number eight seven, bearing two one eight. Contact is submerged and closing at high speed!”

Damn the American! cursed Samant silently. It had to be him; they would have surely heard a noisy Chinese SSN long before now. Samant’s patience was exhausted, the American had become more than a mere nuisance and he intended to deal with this interloper once and for all.

“Number One, begin tracking the new contact. Stand by for rapid-fire torpedo attack, tube eight.”

Jain looked incredulous, he seemed confused by the order. Samant didn’t appreciate his hesitation. “You heard me, Number One. Prepare to attack contact eight seven.”

“Captain,” replied Jain forcefully. “With respect, sir, I must remind you that we are not authorized to fire on any American vessel.”

Samant was irritated on the one hand by his first officer’s response, but impressed on the other. Jain was proving to be a fast learner. He’d already figured out the likely identity of the new contact.

“Very well, Number One,” Samant conceded with a slight smile. “Would you condone a warning shot?”

“A warning shot, sir? With a torpedo?” Jain sounded incredulous.

“Yes, Mr. Jain,” answered Samant, using the first officer’s name to reassert his authority. “We’ll fire a single torpedo, but the seeker will be disabled and we’ll offset the weapon ten degrees to starboard. That should suffice to make it impossible for the torpedo to hit the American submarine.”

“It’s still bending the rules a bit, sir,” said Jain carefully. “But given the circumstances, I believe a review by a higher authority will find it acceptable.”

“Splendid!” cried Samant. “Track contact eight seven, stand by for deliberate torpedo fire. Disable the seeker on the torpedo in tube eight.”

“Torpedo seeker is disabled, Captain. And tubes one through six are loaded, rear doors are secured,” reported the primary fire control operator.

“Bring tubes one through six to action state, and open the bow caps.” Samant picked up the intercom microphone and selected the sonar room. “Sonar, go active on the port flank array, three pulses.”

USS North Dakota

The alarm from the WLY-1 acoustic intercept receiver beat the sonar supervisor by only a couple of seconds. “Skat-3 transmissions, three pulses, correlates with Sierra-five two, classify the contact as an Akula class SSN.”

“Answer in kind, XO,” Jerry commanded.

“Aye, sir. Sonar, go active on Sierra-five two, three pulses.”

Three invisible, but intense sound waves shot out from North Dakota’s active conformal array. Upon reaching the Indian submarine, the sound waves bounced off the air-filled pressure hull. Even though the Akula was covered in anechoic coating, the sub was too close for the coating to have a significant effect. North Dakota’s passive conformal array got three good returns.

INS Chakra

“Captain! Confirm American BQQ-10 sonar, bearing two one zero. Matches bearing to contact eight seven, range eight thousand seven hundred meters and closing rapidly!” The sonar officer sounded ruffled over the intercom.

“Solution status, Number One,” barked Samant.

“Contact is pointed right at us. Course, zero three zero, speed, thirty-two knots. Solution is ready!”

“Set torpedo course, two two zero.”

“Course set!” Jain replied.

Samant nodded. “Stand by… FIRE!”

Inside tube number eight, a Russian UGST torpedo was violently expelled by a sudden wave of fast-moving water. At first, it coasted downward in a shallow arc as the onboard computer started up the engine. Once up to speed, the torpedo turned hard to port and began climbing back to its ordered depth. Soon it was roaring toward the American submarine at fifty knots.

USS North Dakota

Jerry and Thigpen looked at the command display. The active sonar had no trouble detecting the Akula. It was just a little under 9,500 yards away, moving slowly to the northwest.

“Ping him again, XO. Let’s make him feel uncomfortable about staying here.”

“Aye, Skipper. Sonar, go active on Sierra-five two, three more pulses,” ordered Thigpen. Once again, three pulses went out, and three good returns were detected. But the Indian wasn’t reacting; his course and speed were unchanged.

“Nothin’, Skipper,” Thigpen grunted. “He’s ignoring us.”

“He’s a cool one, that’s for sure. I think he knows he’ll be able to launch his second salvo before we can get too close.”

“He certainly is a cheeky fellow,” remarked Thigpen.

Jerry ignored his XO’s comment, choosing instead to focus his thoughts on his alternate number. The man knew how to handle his boat; of that there was no doubt. But what was he like? Where did he get his education, his training? What motivated him? All these questions, and more, swirled around in Jerry’s head. And all of them were, at the moment, unanswerable.

“Skipper, you want me to hit him again?” Thigpen’s question jerked Jerry from his musings. He’d have to deal with his questions later.

“Yes, XO, but this time, hammer him. Go continuous, keep pinging him,” Jerry said resolutely.

“Aye, sir. Sonar, go continuous active on Sierra-five two.”

Jerry’s head snapped up immediately; he didn’t hear the expected repeat-back of the XO’s order. Looking toward the sonar station, he saw the supervisor and a senior sonarman staring intently at the same screen. Thigpen saw it too.

“Talk to me, Sonar Supervisor,” the XO demanded.

“XO, there’s another contact in the general direction of Sierra-five two. It’s hard to make out with all the flow noise on the towed arrays, but there is definitely something out there.”

“Petty Officer Andersen, do I need to start being worried?” Jerry was able to sound calm, but his heartbeat had just shot way up.

“I’m not sure, sir. It kind of looks like…” The sonar supervisor stopped in mid-sentence as another set of faint lines showed up on his display. After some quick manipulations of the controls, the lines were enlarged and matched against the acoustic database—a flashing red “Torpedo Warning” indicator popped on the screen. Andersen’s face went white.

“Torpedo in the water! Same bearing as Sierra-five two!” he shouted.

“Captain has the conn,” thundered Jerry. “Pilot, right standard rudder, steady on course…” He paused as he looked quickly at the geoplot on the big screen. “… one four zero, maintain flank speed. Torpedo defense, launch an ADC Mark 5 and mobile decoy, standby ATT.”

North Dakota heeled sharply to starboard as the rudder kicked over. Even with fly-by-wire controls, the submarine rolled heavily into the turn, vibrating noticeably as she swung around. Jerry knew speed was his main advantage, and he’d intentionally used less rudder to keep his speed up. The only indication that the countermeasure and mobile decoy had been launched was the blinking of icons on the large display screen. For a few tense minutes, everyone held on in silence, with only the sonar supervisor’s reports breaking the tense quiet.

Finally, he called out, “Captain, torpedo has passed CPA and is opening. Whew!”

A collective sigh of relief was heard throughout control.

“Sonar, did the weapon ever enable?” Jerry asked tersely.

“I don’t know for sure, Skipper. I don’t think it went active, but we had the ADC pretty much in our field of view during the whole turn. We could have missed it.”

“Very well.” Jerry was unconvinced; he knew his sonar operators were good. And it would be unlike them to miss something so loud as an active torpedo seeker even with the countermeasure in the way. Turning toward the rest of the control room watchstanders, he announced loudly, “Attention in Control. I intend to stay on this course for a little longer, then we’ll slow and take a look around. I don’t believe the Akula will pursue us, but we can’t afford to make that assumption, so stay sharp, everyone. Carry on.”

Thigpen pulled up beside Jerry. “I can’t believe that son-of-a-bitch fired at us! We’re lucky he misjudged the distance, the weapon probably enabled after it passed us.”

Jerry laughed cynically. “He didn’t misjudge anything, Bernie. He’s too good to make that kind of mistake. He deliberately fired the torpedo with the seeker off. A warning shot, with a very clear message—keep off the grass.”

“What do we do now, Skipper?”

“We report in, XO,” stated Jerry flatly. “The rules of this weird game appear to have changed yet again, and we need to let our bosses know. You have the conn. I’ll be in the radio room if you need me.”