USS Stonewall Jackson BoxSet

by Stephen Makk

  Chapter 7

  A LOUD ‘WHOOP, WHOOP’ sound beat the air above Sevastopol. A Kamov Ka-27 anti-submarine helicopter made its way across the bay. Two men walked along a road overlooking the isthmus.

  I used to want to do that when I was younger.”

  “You Isaak, flying those things. Not for me. I don’t care for them, they have their uses; but not for me,” said Captain Orlov, laughing.

  “I did once, but not now.” They walked into Peter’s and took a table on the left.

  “Two big ones,” said Kuzma.

  “You want Kirov’s stuff?” asked Peter.

  “Yes, his Vodka is better than that normal shit. But we’re only allowed three, OK?”

  “Ok, two Kirov’s coming up. You want burgers, onions?”

  “You feed us like Hank the Yank. You’re a bad man. Yes, go on, why not.”

  Peter served them the vodka. “There you are, Captains. Are you going out to sea today?”

  “No,” said Isaak Sokolov, “some maintenance today.”

  After a few minutes, Peter served the burgers. “ Fine sirs I bet they don’t serve those on a submarine.”

  “We’ll take you out on one when we do a test dive. You can cook.”

  Peter smiled. “Not with all that nuclear shit down there.”

  The two laughed and tucked into their burgers.

  “How is Volk?” asked Kuzma.

  “She’s nearly ready. We’ve had a couple of software wizards on board upgrading the Mk 540. It needed it.”

  Captain Kuzma Orlov smiled. “Yes, I had them aboard Leopard two months ago. The 540’s good at times, but you’ll find the sonar is a lot better after the upgrade.” The two Captains eventually left Peter’s and walked off down the hill.

  “Look, Kuzma. There’s a fine sight.”

  “Yes, Isaak. There’s a beauty about the beast, and that sight’s the proof.”

  Alongside the pier were two Akula class submarines. The Leopard and the Volk.

  “The Leopard and the Wolf, two of the most beautiful and deadly hunters that there are.”

  The two boats were a work of underwater beauty. Three hundred and sixty two feet long by 45 feet in the beam. When you faced an Akula, you faced 12,700 tons of submerged hell with a curved sleek hull and swept sail. The protruding teardrop shaped pod raised above her stern streamed her passive towed array sonar. Up forward she had eight torpedo tubes arranged in two horizontal rows of four. She was quiet; the submarine’s ace card. Even the USN admitted that.

  A car pulled up to a stop.

  A sailor climbed out and saluted Captain Orlov, the squadron commander.

  “Sir, we have an urgent communication from Fleet Command. It’s War State two.”

  Orlov hadn’t expected that today. He motioned to his friend and colleague.

  “Come on Isaak, get in.”

  The men climbed into the car and it made its way down to the pier. Sokolov followed Orlov onto the boat’s deck, the Captains climbed the Leopard’s sail and made their way into the control room.

  The XO saluted, Orlov returned it.

  “Pavel, let’s look.” The Communications Officer handed the slip to Orlov. He let Captain Sokolov look over his shoulder.

  ВОЕННОЕ ГОСУДАРСТВО 2

  RNAZ 864T33 BSF

  СЕВЕРНЫЙ ФЛОТ НАВИАЛЬНЫЕ СИЛЫ РОССИИ. NF7Y902

  ЧЕРНОМОРСКИЙ ФЛОТ

  В ЛЕОПАРД

  ФЛОТ НАВИАЛЬНЫЕ // ID N7FF5IK //

  MSGID / ФЛОТ НАВИАЛЬНЫЕ ФАКТИЧЕСКИЙ //

  HАЧАЛО СООБЩЕНИЯ: //

  ПУТЬ К МОРЕ НЕМЕДЛЕННО. ВЫПОЛНИТЬ ЭКСПЛУАТАЦИЮ ЧЕРНЫЙ ШТОР.

  CООБЩЕНИЕ ЗАКАНЧИВАЕТСЯ//

  TRANSLATION:

  WAR STATE 2

  RNAZ 864T33 BSF

  NORTHERN FLEET NAVAL FORCES RUSSIA. NF7Y902

  VIA BLACK SEA FLEET

  TO LEOPARD

  NORTHEN FLEET// ID N7FF5IK//

  MSGID/NORTHEN FLEET ACTUAL//

  MSG BEGINS://

  PUT TO SEA IMMEDIATELY. EXECUTE OPERATION BLACK STORM.

  MSG END//

  “That’s it Isaak. Operation Black Storm.” He turned to his comrade. “It means only one thing.”

  “Yes, Kuzma. We’re at war.”

  Captain Orlov had dreaded the day; yet he’d yearned for it too. As squadron commander, he’d lead the two boats. “Put to sea, Sokolov. I’ll flash signal you west of the breakwater.”

  “Aye sir.” Captain Isaak Sokolov left the Leopard and returned to the Volk.

  The two Akula class boats passed the breakwater in bright sunlight, with a strong breeze from the north.

  Captain Orlov looked out over the ocean; she was a glorious sight. To his starboard side was Volk, pushing her way gracefully against the waves. Orlov flashed his signal light to his comrade on Volk’s sail. It was acknowledged. He flashed out his signal.

  It was an adaptation of Foreign Secretary Molotov’s message after Germany's invasion of June 1941.

  “Each one of us must demand of himself and of others discipline, organization and self-denial worthy of real Russian patriots, in order to provide for all the needs of the Army, Navy and Air Force, to ensure victory over the enemy.”

  Orlov climbed down into the sail, closed and sealed the hatches.

  He looked around the control room, his crew were ready, they knew this was no ordinary patrol.

  “Flood forward one and two. Open and trim all vents fore and aft. Make for depth. Planesman, down bubble ten, make your depth one hundred metres. Speed 20 kmh.”

  On that bright sunlit day, Leopard and Volk slid below the waves, down into the dark depths of the Black Sea.

  THE OVAL OFFICE. WASHINGTON DC.

  THE CHIEF OF NAVAL Operations Admiral Manning sat after finishing his presentation.

  “Did we have any advance warning of this Operation Black Storm?” asked NSA Collins.

  “No,” said the Director of the CIA.

  “There was a lot of static flying over Ukraine, but that’s what you’d expect.”

  “Mr President. I request that we go immediately to DEFCON 3,” said the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

  “Do it,” said the President.

  “So the Russians can just do it,” said NSA Collins. He shrugged and raised his palms. “Just mobilise the Black Sea Fleet and flood out of the Black Sea into the Med, and that’s it? The sixth Fleet just has to put up with it?”

  “Pretty much, yes,” replied Admiral Manning.

  “So just how big is this Black Sea Fleet?” asked NSA Collins. “What are we facing?”

  Admiral Manning took a document out of his brief wallet.

  “One Guided Missile Cruiser, one Guided Missile Destroyer, five Guided Missile Frigates, six Diesel Attack Submarines, seven Landing Ships, seven Corvettes, eight Minesweepers, eight Guided Missile or ASW boats. Air power: 25th Independent Anti-submarine Helicopter Regiment with 20 helicopters. 43rd Independent Naval Shturmovik Air Squadron with 22 Su-24M strike aircraft. They have some ships and submarines transferred from the Northern Fleet.” The Admiral looked up over his glasses. “All in all, it’s a very sizable force. It’s to be treated with great respect.”

  The NSA sat back and sighed. “So, this is revenge for our infiltration of Sevastopol and the sinking of their Kilo submarine?”

  The Director of the CIA crossed his arms on the table. “There is some background to this. You’ll all be aware of Russia’s activities in the Eastern Ukraine. We have an asset who’s made contact with the Ukraine resistance. We’ve had some notice that the Russians were looking to make a move. From what we can tell, Sevastopol and the Kilo are smokescreens.”

  “The Russians in Sevastopol did open fire first on the USS New York City. The Kilo was about to attack,” said Admiral Manning.

  The Director of the
CIA carried on. “Like I said: smokescreens. Let’s face it, Admiral, we did infiltrate their main naval base with an SSN. It did feed their hawks. We think they fear a move by us into the Black Sea over the Ukraine situation. They expect us to take advantage of the crisis. So, this Fleet flooding out into the Med is to counter that.”

  The President held his hand up. “But we weren’t planning a move into the Black Sea.”

  “Mr President. If I may sum up,” said The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. “The Russians have long wanted to reaffirm their control of the Black Sea and to dominate or nearly so, the Eastern Mediterranean. The Ukraine situation aided by Sevastopol and the Kilo gives them a way to do it.”

  “Our analysis backed up by our asset’s contacts with the Ukraine resistance, reinforces this,” added the Director of the CIA.

  The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, went on. “Think of it this way. You wish to dominate the Black Sea, Ukraine and the eastern Mediterranean. Your push into the Ukraine puts the west’s nose out of joint. They run a recce into Sevastopol with one of their nukes, you chase it out and, in the process, you lose a Kilo. Now you have your justification. It was the west’s provocation; we were just ensuring our southern flank’s stability. That’s it gentlemen. They have their justification for Black Storm. They’ll say, the west caused us to do it.”

  “We have to warn our forces,” said the NSA.

  “Also reinforce the 6th Fleet and USEUCOM European command.” The Chairman added.

  “We’ll ratchet up our readiness posture. I’ll see what we have immediately available to help protect the Bosporus.”

  THE BLACK SEA.

  USS NEW YORK CITY MADE her way slowly near the surface, her masts protruded above the waves.

  “What’s our position update?” asked Franks.

  “Sir, we’re approx 100 miles west north west of Istanbul.”

  Franks considered the situation. What would the Russians be up to now? It was time to head north west off the Russian coast, towards the Crimea, then sit there quietly, listen and watch.

  “Flood forward. Open and trim vents fore and aft. Make for depth. Planesman, down bubble 15, make your depth 360. Speed 15 knots. What’s my course to Sevastopol?”

  “Forty three degrees Sir.”

  “Planesman, you heard the man.”

  “Forty three at fifteen knots, Aye Sir.” The boat vented air and started its descent.

  “Sir,” said Commander Krupa, the boat’s Communications Officer. He handed Captain Franks a communications slip. “This just came in from CINCUSNAVEUR sir.”

  PRIORITY RED

  B 86833571Z JUN 45 ZY87

  CINCUSNAVEUR NAVAL FORCES EUROPE. NAPLES ITALY//E1//

  TO NEW YORK CITY

  EURFLT// ID E947QV54//

  NAVAL OPS/31

  MSGID/EUROPS 6722/CINCUSNAVEUR ACTUAL//

  MSG BEGINS://

  ATTACHED IS A TRANSMISSION FOR YOUR EYES ONLY. ACKNOWLEDGE WHEN READ.

  MSG END//

  Franks read the document, then opened the transmission on his monitor. He frowned and read it again. Then detached his tablet.

  “Commander Krupa. Acknowledge transmission.”

  “Aye sir.”

  Franks turned and walked aft, he looked over his shoulder.

  “XO, Blake. Wardroom, now. War committee.”

  THE THREE MEN SAT AT the table. They were the war committee, the boat’s unofficial inner circle. They’d discuss freely and informally the boat’s offensive and defensive options. First names were used. Captain Franks had spent time on exchange with a Royal Navy submarine, and he’d learned the practice there, where they conducted what they called a Chinese Parliament. You could say what you wished, rank didn’t matter. If you thought the Captain was wrong, you’d say so.

  The Captain passed out the document for the two of them to read.

  He waited until they completed it, then let them both see the document on the tablet.

  “So,” said Franks, “the Russians have set what they call War Condition Two, meaning war is expected and imminent. All units are weapons free. ROE unlimited. They expect the Ukraine crises to get worse and the situation to provoke a full mobilisation by NATO. It’s got out of hand. The Arbat staff have the button under their finger. What do you say?”

  General Staff wass located in Moscow on Znamenka Street in the Arbat District. With the Ministry of Defense building and several staff directorate office buildings nearby, it forms what’s known as the "Arbat military district." Often referred to by military personnel as the supreme command of the Russian Armed Forces.

  “HAVE WE RESPONDED?” asked the XO.

  “We’ve gone to DEFCON 3. Some Chiefs wanted to go to DEFCON 2, so I think we can call it DEFCON 3+. The shit’s hanging and is ready to drop.”

  “And the fan’s spinning fast, ” Lieutenant Commander Nathan Blake added.

  “Full mobilisation of the Black Sea Fleet is a worrying sign,” said Franks.

  “Have they ever carried out this Eastern flood deployment before? As an exercise?” asked Blake.

  “No,” said Franks. “They intend to deploy all surface and subsurface units out into the Black Sea, through the Bosporus and into the Med. All units are ROE free. If you look at appendix 2, they have advanced plans to deploy the VDV - they’re airborne units - to the Bosporus. The 56th Brigade at Kamyshin in the Southern Military district has been mobilised.” Franks sat forward and fixed Cortez and Nathan with a hard stare. “If you’re going to move your Fleet through the Bosporus, you need to control it. For that, you need boots on the ground.”

  “Surely Karl, the Turkish army would defeat them? It’s their largest city,” said the XO.

  “The Turks will throw their rattles out of their cots.”

  Franks nodded. “They would defeat the Russians, the document agrees. However, how quickly? They only have to occupy the strait for long enough to get the Fleet through.”

  “Can you imagine?” said Cortez. “The whole Black Sea Fleet, ROE free, and sailing by Istanbul. It’s like the Russian Pacific Fleet sailing under the Golden Gate bridge.”

  Cortez shook his head. “Not much we can do about it. The whole Black Sea Fleet against us; just one boat.”

  Nathan grinned. “Gabriel, maybe there is something we can do?”

  “Yeah, like what?”

  At length Nathan explained his plan; there was a growing incredulity, followed by some shock.

  Cortez leaned across the table. “Blake. That’s fucking madness.”

  “But it might work.” Nathan smiled.

  The XO looked to the Captain. “Karl. It’s crazy.”

  “It is,” Franks agreed. “But work it out, Nathan. Write it up. It’s a long shot, but it’s a possibility. I’ll contact CINCUSNAVEUR and ask her to work directly with you.” He sat back and stared at the ceiling. “Nathan, you have a way of summing the situation up.” He smirked. “A lesson from history.” Franks looked pensively into the distance, then turned and looked at Nathan. “Let’s hope it works out better than the first time, because you know what? I think we might just have to do it.”

  Chapter 8

  LATER THAT SAME WATCH, Nathan approached Captain Franks at his Conn. “Sir, I’d like some advice.”

  “Ok Lieutenant Commander, we’ll go into my cabin.”

  Nathan had never been in Captain Franks’ cabin. Franks pointed to a small chair, while he sat on his bunk.

  “Sir, it’s looking like a big one. CINCUSNAVEUR is committing the 6th Fleet, there’s an MEU in the area. Nothing’s been said, but it’s certain that the USAF will be involved. I’d like some direction, sir.”

  Franks pursed his lips and looked into the distance. “It’s a big picture operation. That’s bigger than you’ve been used to, so just assume you’re up to it. I think you’ll do well. But if you don’t, then they’ll know it was a lot for a Commander in the USN submarine service to take on. You’ll be given some slack. As far as the op’
s concerned, we’re taking on a superior foe, so play to our strengths. Let them think they’re winning. They’ll be overconfident. Appear weak against their strength. If you get the chance, read up on Hannibal.”

  “Hannibal?”

  “Yeah, the Punic wars, Rome against Carthage. The Elephant’s crossing of the Alps guy. Study his tactics. Military genius.”

  “I’ll try sir, thanks.”

  NATHAN TOOK TO HIS bunk with his laptop and drew up his plan; it had to be flexible but bold. He had to do what the enemy expected, but be ready to trick them. It took him time and several times he had to consult the boat’s electronic libraries.

  He made his way to the control room. “Sir, I need to request information from The Department of the Navy. I’ll have to go through CINCUSNAVEUR.”

  Franks nodded. “Come to periscope depth, speed five knots. Commander Krupa. Float the communications buoy.”

  Nathan transmitted his request for information to the DoN. Later, he downloaded the files he’d requested.

  “Down bubble fifteen, make your depth two sixty. Blake, before you get on with that, get some food and some sleep,” said Franks. “You’re no good to the Navy if you’re half asleep. Do it now.”

  “Sir.” He took his time and slept. He spent time in the Wardroom at the desk, reading, writing and drinking coffee. Nathan worked on. Finally, the next day he handed a RAM stick to Captain Franks.

  “Sir, I have the outlines of Operation VOROTA ready.”

  Franks loaded it into his comm slot and read it on the monitor. He looked at Nathan with an odd mix of respect and dismay. Franks questioned Nathan on the plan, he was dubious. It was brilliant and yet stupid.

  But needs must when the Lord of Chaos drives.

  “Go with it. And God help us.”

  “Sir.” Nathan handed the stick to the Communications Officer.

  “Commander Krupa, send this to CINCUSNAVEUR.”