by Stephen Makk
The men and women all assembled in the engine room. The chief got a few grease monkeys to hand out steel bars, spanners, hammers and other struts and sundry items.
“Ok, people gather around this big cylinder and that pump there. Now when I tell you I want you to bang in the damn thing at the same time. One two tree etc... Don’t bang on it like you want to smash it to pieces. These are a generator and a water pump. They’re part of your boat, damage them and you’ll be in deep shit. But make bloody noise ok? Right when I tell you.” He picked up the intercom. “Skipper ready?”
“Revs full Wasim.” The drive sped up fast.
“Now.” They banged away, causing a bloody noise. He waited, “Stop. Revs down.” He waited, and they repeated it twice more. “Right that’s the fun over back to whatever you were doing.
Pike heard the banging din from aft. “Ok ears back on Mel, let’s see if it provokes him.” After a few minutes it happened.
“Sir, aspect change on the Shang, it’s turning this way.”
“Weaps, designate contact as tango papa one, Jin as tango papa two and the diesel electric as tango papa three.” Planes down ten, put her gently on the bottom and cut revs, Melanie help him.”
“Yes sir.” The bottom was eight hundred feet here, just right. The boat slid slowly toward the seabed as the Shang approached.
“Weaps, flood one, open outer doors.” Bellerophon came to rest and the silt billowed up around her, drifting slowly away in the gentle current.
“Sheng one mile away now, searching but no active pings,” said Petty Officer Mercer.
Pike picked up the intercom. “All hands, boat to quiet state, action stations.”
The minutes went by. “Sir, Sheng’s above us maybe three hundred feet, cruising past us. No sign he’s heard us. Wait sir,” an edge crept into her voice, “he’s slowing, now very slow, she looked up to Commander Pike. “Sir he may be detecting us on his MAD. He’s holding slow. He’s gone by sir.” A MAD is a Magnetic Anomaly Detector, sensing changes in the Earth’s magnetic field from a large metallic body. Five minutes later the Sheng returned. “Passing us by again, slowing again,” she paused, “now heading north again.” Pike waited. Sir aspect change on Tango papa one, he’s turning back, for another look.”
“Planes. Lift of the bottom, but nice and quiet.” After an abortive first attempt, the boat lifted clear.
“Seven sixty feet sir.”
“Thanks, planes hold us at six hundred feet. Range to Sheng?”
“One hundred meters said Mercer,” there was a wait, “two hundred meters.” Pike waited, his black hunter killer hanging there, invisible, unheard in the blackness. “Three hundred meters, turning towards us. Tube flooding. Outer door open”
“Weaps, launch tube one, tango papa one.” The Stingray torpedo was blown out of its tube and sped off.
“Sir, fish running, running pinging.”
“Sheng has revs on full,” said Mel.
“Running.” I was too late, the range too short.
“Hot datum Tango Papa one.” She punched the air and waved both fists. The Sheng blew apart, it’s stern gone, the forward end of the ship sank into the depths, already dead.
“Ok crew, let’s move in, one down more to come. Twelve knots, intercept course with tango’s two and three.”
A few minutes later. Mel piped up. “Contact ahead one mile, Song class, he’s bearing down on us.”
“Flood tubes two and three, open outer doors, Weaps.”
“Aye sir.”
“He’s active pinging us. One ping, two ping, pulsing, flooding tubes.”
“Launch tubes one and two at Tango two, ripple fire. One up and under, one from his left.”
“Launch tubes two and three, Stingray running, our fish are pinging.”
“Sir, Tango two has launched two fish, running in 1,500 yards, 1,100 yards.” Mel sounded tense, “800 yards. Pinging us.”
“Weaps, launch countermeasures both sides,” snapped Pike.
Mel kept calm, just. “550 yards, still pinging.
Sir, our fish closing, one fish, no now two fish. Hot datum on Tango two. She’s broken up, gas rising, huge bubble formed. Hull falling. Sir, fish still closing.”
“On my command blow one and two forward and ready full ahead.”
Melanie raised her voice in surprise. “What? What? The enemy fish sir, they’re circling downwards, pinging. What the hell?”
“They must have been still wire driven when we hit the Song, they’ve gone auto search,” said Weaps.
“We were lucky,” smiled Frank Pike at the XO, “we had an inexperienced Captain to deal with.” Right Nathan, there you are, the escorts are gone, the Jin’s yours now.
Chapter 20
USS Stonewall Jackson.
BENSON TOOK OFF HIS headset off and gave his ears a rubbing. The Virginia Visionary looked to Nathan.
“I’ve played back the recordings several times and watched the spectrum analyser sir. Three explosions, the first was definitely a British Spearfish. The second two, probably were. They were close together in time and space. It makes the acoustic spectrum inaccurate, but close in space means one target. I can’t say for sure sir, but my guess is, yes, all three were Spearfish.”
Nathan nodded, he couldn’t believe Pike had been sunk. He could have been, but damn unlikely.
“I’m going to assume the escorts are gone. Ok so it’s us and Mr Jin, anything out there?”
“Not so far sir, I’ve been listening to the Bellerophon stuff. I’ll get on it.” He placed his headset on and looked at his screen. He was back where he belonged, the deep abyss.
“Lieutenant Kaminski. Get your Tablet and come with me.” He set off aft.
“Where are we going sir?”
“To the galley, It’s near that time, I’m going to treat.” A sailor walked by, “Sir,” he saluted.
“I’m going to treat my girl to some dinner and a drink. I can do that?”
She smiled. “Yeah, I guess so.” It was Mexican night, Grilled Chicken and fruit Tacos and Qusadilla. Drinks were a coffee each.
They took the food to a spare table. “How’s it going?”
“Ok, I guess.”
What do you fancy after this patrol Nik?”
“Something different.”
“Yeah, I could get that too. How about Europe. Paris, London, Copenhagen?”
“Sounds great.” He nodded and smiled at her.
“We’ll do it.” He pulled over her tablet.
“Not all fun I’m afraid.” Nikki pulled out her bottom lip.
“Tracks. Where will the Jin go?” She lit it up, picked maps and windowed into the Yellow Sea. Then zoomed out to the full Pacific.
“Well, he’s looking to get here.” She indicated a line back into the Pacific away from the north-western US coast. “From North California, south of the Oregon border, back here to a place about 900 miles north east of Hawaii. All along here is prime SLBM launching spots. The closer he is to the coast the further his bird’s will fly, with the JL-2 missile, north of Hawaii might be enough to hit NYC and Boston.”
“Yeah,” Nathan frowned, “3 MIRV warheads, 90kt each. Not nice.”
“It might be enough, but he’ll want closer,” she smirked, “I know how sub drivers like to get in close.” He tried to ignore her sultry gaze.
“So, I think we’ re pretty sure about the South of Japan, and then?” Nathan shrugged.
“It’s south, direct or north, what would you pick Nathan?”
“He’ll know that ASW birds will be buzzing around Hawaii like flies around steaming Moose shit. There will be some out of Kodiak Island and Unalaska, Alaska. Will he go direct, I don’t know? I don’t know the guy out there. I doubt it. I think I’d go North, but not too North. It’s a tough one, he may be a surprise us all guy and go South.”
NOW BACK IN THE CONTROL room Nathan stood by the XO.
“We’ll stand picket duty Larry. Transit a line north northeast to so
uth southwest from Yakushima Island to Amami Island, best speed for Benson and Lucy to pick her up. After that she’ll be out into the Pacific.”
“Yes sir. Planesman come to ten degrees trim for depth, down fifteen, make your depth 400 feet, speed 15 kts. Benson, I’ll put you a long smooth curve in the lure line and then it’s a south-southwest track.” It took seven and a quarter hour to complete one leg of the search. The first pass was coming to an end Amami Island lay ahead. Larry knew it was time
“Right rudder one quarter. Come to north northeast, nice and slow, long turn Planesman.” The boat started her slow turn back to mainland Japan.
GREAT WALL II.
CAPTAIN WANG YITIAN, of The People’s Republic Liberation Army Navy Submarine force,
stood before the navigation Officers chart. He knew the Japanese and American foes would be out here listening for him. They were so boring and unimaginative, he’d use a trick he’d used before to slip by. Right under their noses.
“Come to seven degrees, maintain speed.” He’d slip out north of Mishima and Takeshima about five kilometres south of Sata at the end of Kagoshima peninsula. Well inside Japanese waters. He counted the minutes down on his Japanese digital wristwatch.
“Come to twenty-three degrees.” Nice and slow, just 3 miles off the enemy coast.
The guests onboard were an odd bunch, mostly political he knew, with a few Military types, he’s spoken to two Generals in the Galley. They had to cram them in as best they could, some officers and men now slept on the fish up forward. The newcomers had discovered the large torpedo room in the bow and cleared it for meetings. Apart from the two times, Yitan had insisted his crew get their sleep.
“If you want another meeting, then hold it on deck.” They’d grumbled but gave way.
Two hours later the Navigation Officer looked up from his chart.
“Sir, chart and inertial instruments tell me we are ten kilometres clear of Tanegashima Island. We are in the open sea.”
“Thank you. Increase speed three knots. Come left to forty degrees.” The Jin class boat Great Wall II, with twelve JL-2 missiles and 36 warheads, each five times more powerful than the Nagasaki bomb was on her way across the Pacific.
USS STONEWALL JACKSON.
“OK PLANESMAN, LONG slow left hander come to south southwest, we’re just off Yakushima Island. All clear Benson?” asked the XO.
“I’m afraid so sir. Just Whales and surface shit shifters.”
A couple of minutes later Nathan returned from Engineering, he saw the course change and made a sour face.
“No sign of him?”
“No sir. I’d have thought we have a tingling by now.” Nathan stood by the Conn with the XO.
“Larry, let’s think about this. Given the time he left Qingdao I’d have expected some activity by now.”
“Me too. We know Benson and his Lucy are just about shit hot. We’ve got ziltch.”
“Either this mother is the coolest sub driver they’ve got, or we’ve missed him. He could be creeping out, hanging back. He‘ll expect we’ll be here. He could be sat back waiting quietly until we give up.”
“He could Nathan, but I doubt it. He knows he has a job to do.” Nathan sighed.
“It’s down to us. Either we hang around here with our dicks in our hands, hoping we’ll hear him. Or we run out west, also with our dicks in our hands, and follow his ghost.” Nathan shook his head. It was his call.
“Run down southeast, let’s see if the bastard’s here. After that, it’s west, into the big blue guessing game.” Nathan went back to his bunk and got some sleep, he hoped he’d need it.
PACIFIC OCEAN. 300 feet altitude, 400 miles east southeast of Yokohama City. Japan.
“DROP LEG ROW ONE, COMING up now.” Sonobuoys started to fall from port side mounts in the rear fuselage. The loader filled the port mount with replacements. The small parachute filled as the sonobuoy fell towards the grey sea. Two yards to go the chute detached and was pulled away. The sonobuoy fell into the sea and extended its Ariel. Handshake communications linked up with the controller aboard the aircraft. The JSDF Kawasaki P-1 ASW aircraft turned northwest, it’s four IHI F7 turbofans increased revs. Two minutes later it turned left again.
“Drop leg row two, coming up now.” More sonobuoys fell into the sea. Listening, listening for a subsurface contact. The Japanese Self Defence Force aircraft had flown out of Yamato air base near Tokyo hours ago. It still had plenty of time left on station. The P-1 added revs and increased its altitude.
“Sir, I have a possible contact,” said the Weapons Officer, “I’m refining.” The Kawasaki cruised in a large arc over its two rows of sonobuoys.
“Sir, drop leg one has contact to the east.” Two minutes went by.
“Sir, drop leg two has contact too. Subsurface, six miles east, depth 100 meters, speed 14 knots, heading four zero degrees. Still refining.” The pilot Commander glanced at his Weapons Officer, he was young but very competent.
“Sir, the NEC system analyser is indicating a 73% chance of a Jin class SSBN.”
“Good work keep monitoring it, let’s see if we can refine it.” He pulled the P-1 into a left turn and let the wings level out. He held her at 700 feet.
“Sir, leg two readings are fully applied, contact is closer now, five miles east. NEC system analyser is indicating a 79% chance of a Jin class SSBN.”
“Ok, call it in Lieutenant Okada,”
“JSDF ASW. JSDF ASW. We are Shadow Diamond. Flash, flash, flash. Jin class SSBN 79% contact. 32.0305N 142.9002E, depth 100 meters, speed 14 knots, heading four zero degrees. Two lines confirm contact. Copy to Dark fish.
“JSDF ASW. JSDF ASW. We are Shadow Diamond. Flash, flash, flash. Jin class SSBN 79% contact. 32.0305N 142.9002E, depth 100 meters, speed 14 knots, heading four zero degrees. Two lines now confirm contact. Copy to Dark fish end.”
“Copy Shadow Diamond. Good work. JSDF ASW out.”
“Sir, we can put a Mk 46 or a Type 97 fish on the contact. We can sink this bastard.”
“Our orders are to report any PLAN boats out here.”
“But sir, we can be the first JSDF crew to sink an enemy boat with a Type 97.”
The Pilot Commander wished he could do exactly that, Okada was right. We could sink the Jin. But orders are to report only.
“Kento Okada, you are right. But we cannot disobey orders. We’ll keep with the Jin as long as we can and report in. but that’s it.”
THERE WAS A KNOCKING on Nathan’s cabin door.
“Sir, are you up? Sir.”
“Yes.”
“Communication urgent from COMSUBPAC sir.” Nathan got out of his bunk and pulled on his blue coverall.
The duty Communications Officer saw him enter the control room. “Comms Sir, from Pearl.”
“Run it to my screen.” Nathan sat at the Conn.
PRIORITY RED
R 251367Z MAR 91 ZY09
COMSUBPAC PEARL HARBOR HAWAII//N1//
TO STONEWALL JACKSON
PACFLT// ID S072RQ81//
NAVAL OPS/02
MSGID/PACOPS 6722/COMSUBPAC ACTUAL//
MSG BEGINS://
SOURCE:// JSDF ASW.
DARK FISH FROM SHADOW DIAMOND. REPORT JIN CLASS SSBN 79% CONTACT. 32.0305N 142.9002E, DEPTH 100 METERS, SPEED 14 KNOTS, HEADING FOUR ZERO DEGREES.
SHADOW DIAMOND OUT.
GOOD HUNTING COMMANDER BLAKE. JSDF ASW OUT.
KAMOV:// BLAKE. WE NEED WORDS OVER THIS JSDF COMMUNICATION. ADMIRAL KAMOV OUT.
MSG END://
Nathan smiled. Admiral Kamov knew he’d been outside the normal channels of communication. Admiral Nakata of the JSDF had delivered, and that was that for now. He checked the depth 300 feet.
“Nikki, get me an intercept course with the Jin.”
“Sir, zero three seven degrees.”
“Thanks, get a backup and then get yourself off to your bunk right now.
Planesman, come to 037 degrees, speed 20 knots. Maintain depth.”
USS Stonewall Jackson was now in pursuit of her quarry.
NATHAN HAD THE FILES up on his screen. Whatever he and the idiot's guide had on the Jin class boat. It was his Sun Tzu thing. “Know your enemy, know yourself and in a hundred battles a hundred victories.” He learned all he could about the Jin class, known and suspected. After all it was him against the Jin, win and the threat was gone, lose and his homeland was decimated. So, no pressure then.
11,000 tons, 442 feet long 41 feet beam, 1 shaft nuclear powered, 6 x 533mm bow tubes. Diving depth ? Sonar ? Sound profile, about the same as a Soviet Delta III boat.
Its bow tubes would probably house Yu-6 or Yu-9 torpedoes. All the PLAN SSBN Captains were known to have come up through the ranks and been in command of diesel electric and nuclear attack submarines. So, they’d understand what it means to hunt and be hunted. Whoever this man was, he wasn’t to be underestimated. Nathan took that on board. He had something he thought maybe an advantage. His opposition probably expected to be up against a United States Navy SSN. If detected he’d try to behave that way, until he didn’t.
His favourite navigation officer walked to her station. Blue baseball cap, blond ponytail, she carried a paper cup of coffee. He walked over.
“Hi,”
“Hello sir,”
“How long until we’re within sixty miles of him?” She set to.
“Assuming no speed change sir, approx. eight hours.” He rubbed her shoulder a couple of seconds longer than he should.
“Good to have the first team back.” He sat back at his Conn.
“Weaps, I want tubes one to three Mk 48, tubes four to six. Deputy Dawg, Ren and Stimpy.”
“Aye sir, I’ll get Deputy dawg in tube four.” Nathan smirked.
“Weaps, while you’re at it, open a file, the Jin will be known as Tango one now.”
