Deep Sound Channel cjf-1

by Joe Buff

  "The first one sounded different," ter Horst said.

  Van Gelder studied the sonar screens. "Confirmed! Captain, initial blast had power spectrum of a Mark 48. Others were our CAPTORs, no arming runs."

  "Did the Americans fire at the Daphne and have a premature?"

  "Sir," Van Gelder said, "they may be trying to blow a pathway through the mines."

  "Cheeky," ter Horst said. "It's a shame their CO has to die. Do we know which boat it is?"

  "Propulsion tonals extremely faint," Van Gelder said, "cannot determine hull number."

  "We'll find out soon enough, during the salvage operation."

  "Target depression angle rate is positive, sir," Van Gelder said. "They're past the continental shelf, their depth increasing fast."

  "Flooding noise?"

  "Impossible to tell."

  "Hull-popping sounds?"

  "Nothing, Captain," Van Gelder said.

  "Interesting," ter Horst said. "Los Angeles — class boats and the Virginias start popping at three hundred meters. Seawolf hulls have stronger steel, thick HY 100, but they'll reach their crush depth soon if this keeps up."

  "Sir," Van Gelder said, "we're coming to the shelf escarpment now."

  "Helm," ter Horst said, "thirty degrees down angle as we near the cliff. Take us to the deeper bottom smartly."

  "Thirty degrees down angle, aye aye, sir," the helmsman said. Van Gelder braced himself as Voortrekker nosed over. "Captain, we lost the contact. They may have made a knuckle while masked from us by the shelf edge."

  "Very well," ter Horst said, "time to launch another 65. Number One, make tube two ready in all respects including opening outer door. Tube two, firing point procedures, generated bearings on the Seawolf."

  "Torpedo room is ready," Van Gelder said.

  "Enable active search three thousand meters from target," ter Horst said. "Shoot."

  * * *

  "Torpedo in the water!" Sessions shouted. "Bearing two two zero relative!"

  "Sir," COB said, "we're about to hit live mines." Jeffrey hesitated, for just a moment. "Maintain course and speed! Tube three open the outer door! Firing point procedures on tube three, snap shot own ship's course!"

  "Sir," Sessions said, "if we keep ignoring Master 27, they'll continue firing at us."

  "We can't afford to turn and fight them now," Jeffrey said, "much as I would like to. Our rate of fire's too low." Challenger's damaged weapons compartment was down to World War II reloading technology, and as good as Kerr and Scutaro were, they weren't the first team — the boat's best torpedomen were on eternal patrol in the meat locker.

  "Tube three shoot!" Jeffrey ordered.

  "Set," Bell reported over the sound-powered phone. "Stand by. Fire … Tube three fired electrically."

  "Unit is running normally," Sessions said. "Sir, incoming torpedo has gone active!"

  "Range and range rate?" Jeffrey said as he launched more countermeasures.

  "Twelve hundred yards and gaining on us ten yards every second!"

  "Classification?" Jeffrey said.

  "Strong 1420 tonal," Sessions said, "gas turbine powered … It's a German-licensed Russian series-65!"

  "Weps," Jeffrey said, "on the AT rocket battery, target incoming torpedo. At one-second intervals, fire a salvo of three."

  * * *

  "Antitorpedo rocket noises!" Van Gelder said, watching the sonar screens and the live feed from the torpedo's fiber-optic wire. "Unit from two tube has been destroyed!" The blast wave struck, deafening through the hull and sonar speakers. Voortrekker seemed to stagger for a moment on her course.

  "Torpedo in the water!" the sonar chief shouted. "Closed-cycle Rankine steam turbine, a Mark 48 Improved ADCAP, range from us increasing." Another blast, followed by a series of crackling explosions.

  "What a waste of mines," ter Horst said. "Very well, prepare to fire tube one, another 65. This time use maximum attack speed."

  "Tube one, aye aye," Van Gelder said, "maximum attack speed."

  * * *

  "Make tube seven ready in all respects including a water slug," Jeffrey said. "Open the outer door. Ignore ISLMM way-point presets, pass weapon control to me."

  "Aye aye," Lieutenant Bell said.

  "Firing point procedures on tube seven, snap shot own ship's course, shoot."

  "Set," Bell said. "Stand by. Fire … Tube seven fired electrically."

  "Unit is running normally," Sessions said.

  Jeffrey watched the tactical display. The ISLMM moved forward slowly, its speed at first— even with the water slug — barely more than Challenger's. Then it accelerated away. Jeffrey brought the unit to 400 feet from the bottom. He programmed the first mine to detonate ten seconds after jettison, then commanded the ISLMM to drop the warhead. It should go off at about 150 feet. He brought the ISLMM itself down to 150. It was moving even faster now with the weight of just one warhead. On his ten count Jeffrey fired the second warhead. The resulting concussions once more jarred his bones.

  "Loud explosions bearing zero nine zero!" Sessions said. "Both ISLMM warheads and seven enemy bottom mines!"

  "Very well, Sonar," Jeffrey said.

  "Torpedo in the water!" Sessions said. "In our baffles, another 65!"

  "Weps," Jeffrey said, "stand by on the AT rockets."

  "Second torpedo in the water!" Sessions shouted. "Relative bearing two six five. Otto fuel closed-cycle engine, wide-field hydrophone effects — a CAPTOR'S after us!"

  "Keep your voice down, Sonar," Jeffrey said, "you'll get hoarse … Weps, take out the CAPTOR."

  There was a roaring sound, diminishing quickly, then a dreadful double crack.

  "Incoming CAPTOR-fish destroyed," Sessions said.

  "Good shooting, Weps," Jeffrey said, but the AT rocket supply was running low. "Helm, hard right rudder, make your course zero nine zero."

  "Hard right rudder, make my course zero nine zero, aye," Meltzer said. The boat banked into the turn.

  "Sir," COB said, "more live mines are dead ahead." Jeffrey glanced at his weapons board — all tubes were empty.

  "Weps, how much longer to reload an ADCAP?" Bell paused. "Thirty seconds, sir." Too damn long. "COB and Sonar," Jeffrey said, "the LMRS probe — we're catching up with it now. Any sign of Master 26?"

  "Nothing, Commander," Sessions said.

  "Negative contact," COB said. "If she's smart, that diesel's clearing datum fast."

  "Sonar," Jeffrey said, "get the LMRS specs from Weps. We'll try to use its active sonar as transducers, send a signal through the fiber-optic wire and put out a signature like Seawolf."

  "Aye aye, sir," Sessions said. "Second 65 still gaining on us fast." Jeffrey fired more noisemakers as Challenger rushed past its own probe. "COB, put the LMRS on a reciprocal course, make noises like a Seawolf — now."

  * * *

  "Unit from tube one has passive lock on target," Van Gelder said, "depth six hundred meters … Sonar re-ports target reversing course!"

  "So he's turned to fight at last," ter Horst said, "or he's hoping to bottom in shallower water. Tube two status?"

  "Tube two reloaded with another high-explosive series-65."

  "Tube two, target the Seawolf. Program maximum attack speed and fire on generated bearings."

  "Torpedo room is ready," Van Gelder said.

  "Shoot," ter Horst said.

  "Target is reversing course again!"

  "Hah!" ter Horst said. "We've got them on the run. Her captain's lost it, Gunther. It's almost over now."

  * * *

  "Helm," Jeffrey said, "all stop."

  "All stop, aye," Meltzer said. "Maneuvering acknowledges all stop."

  "Another torpedo in the water!" Sessions said. "Another 65 incoming in our baffles!" Challenger began to coast. Jeffrey fired more noisemakers — he had few left, he needed to parcel them more carefully, and this deep they didn't work well from the pressure.

  "COB," Jeffrey said, "bring the LMRS back to us and then lead it around to p
ort and out in front."

  "Understood," COB said.

  "Sonar," Jeffrey said, "increase probe's active signal intensity by three decibels now."

  "Doubling signal intensity, aye," Sessions said. "Status of incoming torpedoes?"

  "Sir, the first one's tracking the LMRS — it's got passive lock. The second one's in passive search, coming in our direction."

  "COB," Jeffrey said, "the 65s are biggies. Put the LMRS three hundred yards off the bow, hold it there at two five zero feet up from the bottom."

  "Understood."

  "First incoming torpedo passing down our port side now," Sessions said. "Torpedo speed is seventy-five knots."

  Jeffrey heard its awful scream first swell and then diminish, the whining of the gas turbine and counterrotating screw props.

  "Weps," Jeffrey said, "stand by on the AT rockets. Target the second torpedo."

  "On the AT battery," Bell responded, "target the second torpedo, aye." A huge eruption shook the boat. Mines went off like strings of firecrackers — in front of Challenger, then to the sides, even back behind her.

  "First 65 has detonated!" Sessions yelled. "LMRS destroyed!" Jeffrey smiled. "Helm, ahead flank smartly."

  * * *

  "Unit from tube one has detonated on target," Van Gelder shouted. "Impact on the Seawolf at a depth of eight hundred meters!" There was a noise like rolling thunder, and endless concussions pounded the hull. "Multiple secondary explosions from bottom mines as well!"

  "Finally" ter Horst said. "No one could live through that."

  "Concur," Van Gelder said as surface reflections echoed and Voortrekker rocked. He glanced at his tactical displays. "Captain, recommend we command-detonate the unit from tube two, to avoid endangering the Daphne and nearby surface craft."

  "Concur. Self-destruct the weapon."

  Van Gelder passed the order to the torpedo room. In moments the fiber-optic feed showed DETONATED and the other data ceased. The noise and buffeting hit, then more shivering bubble pulses and echoes from the surface.

  "Sir," Van Gelder shouted as he gripped his handrests, "we're picking up target propulsion transients!"

  "That's impossible!" ter Horst said.

  "Captain, our sonar algorithms confirm the target not destroyed! Intermittent ambient sonar contact on her hull!"

  "Target depth?"

  "Now well past one thousand meters! … Passive sonar contact lost, course unknown, no bulkhead ruptures or implosion sounds."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Sir," Van Gelder said, "the explosive rebound psheew of a steel sub past its crush depth is impossible to miss!"

  "Challenger," ter Horst gasped. "We've found her, Gunther, yes! Warm up the nuclear-tipped 65s in tubes seven and eight."

  * * *

  "Sir," Sessions said, "high-frequency mine-avoidance sonar indicates we're now clear of the minefield. Second incoming torpedo has detonated prematurely."

  "Very well," Jeffrey said. "Probably a self-destruct before they lost the wire from all the turbulence out there. How's our bow cap doing?"

  "Real banged-up now, sir. Self-noise from boundary-layer flow is up by four more decibels."

  "Helm," Jeffrey said, "slow to ahead two thirds, make turns for twenty-six knots."

  "Ahead two thirds, make turns for twenty-six knots, aye," Meltzer said. "Maneuvering acknowledges ahead two thirds, making turns for twenty-six knots, sir."

  "I want to put some bearing separation between our attacker and the stirred-up water, throw Master 27 off our trail and let them think we're dead from progressive flooding. Helm, make your course one three seven. That'll also unmask our starboard wideaperture array."

  "Make my course one three seven, aye," Meltzer said.

  "At this point," Jeffrey said, "the best strategy's to head for deeper water at top quiet speed, dive beneath whatever limit Axis fish can handle. This course'll take us to the thousand-fathom curve a little faster, then we use full nap-of-seafloor cruising mode."

  "Our depth is three eight zero zero feet now, sir," COB said.

  "Very well, Chief of the Watch," Jeffrey said. "If Intel's right, we're more or less safe now, at least from nonnuclear devices, and A-bombs probably won't catch us so long as we don't give Hans another datum once we're well offshore of the latest one. At twenty-six knots and with the stormy seas up there we can outrun any surface ships they have, and conditions aren't good for airborne dipping sonars either."

  "Captain," Sessions said, using Jeffrey's formal acting title, "intermittent passive sonar contact bearing two eight four on Master 27, reflections off her sail and bow sphere using reverb from the last torpedo detonation."

  "Range?" Jeffrey said, turning to face Sessions, who was busy eyeing data from his staff. Jeffrey almost started when he saw Ilse sitting there — somehow he'd forgotten all about her.

  Jeffrey glanced aft. Captain Wilson and Morse were gone and the senior corpsman was working hard on Monaghan, now wearing a neck brace with his head taped to a backboard. The corpsman paused from giving artificial respiration to put a defibrillator to the navigator's chest.

  "Clear!" he said, his forehead damp with sweat. Jeffrey realized he'd already done this several times — he smelled burned skin and hair. Tunnel vision, Jeffrey told himself. I got so fixated on the battle I forgot about my crew. I can't afford to do that.

  "Captain," Sessions said, "contact bearing too far sternward to triangulate or range-gate by wide-aperture array, and no surface bounce range possible. Ambient sonar signal strength puts distance to Master 27 at roughly fifteen thousand yards. Cannot classify the contact based on ambient signature alone."

  "Very well," Jeffrey said.

  "Sir," Sessions said, "recommend another turn to starboard for a better wide-array incidence angle, a tighter estimate of contact range and possible capture of tonals."

  "Negative," Jeffrey said. "That would bring the contact's bearing closer to our beam, make us a bigger apparent target and also expose the starboard maximum in our radial self-noise profile."

  "Understood, sir," Sessions said.

  Jeffrey read his TMA display. The latest datum showed Master 27's course unchanged, still zero nine zero true.

  "They haven't turned to follow," Jeffrey said. "I think they've lost us, Sonar, and we're both too close to other Axis forces for them to go for area effect with an atomic warhead."

  "Concur, sir," Sessions said. "Doppler indicates the range is opening. No sign of weapon launch or loading transients on Master 27's bearing."

  Commodore Morse came back to the CACC. "It looks like Captain Wilson doesn't have a broken skull, just a bad concussion. They say he's completely out of action for at least two days."

  "Understood," Jeffrey said, then he glanced at Monaghan again.

  "They put him in your rack," Morse continued. "They're stitching up his scalp now."

  "Why not the CO's state-room?" Jeffrey said distractedly.

  "You need the data repeaters in his cabin, when you turn in for some rest … You know you're acting captain now."

  "I got a heartbeat," the corpsman called.

  "Can you keep him going?" Jeffrey said. Then he tried to stand. He could barely put weight on his leg now.

  "I don't know," the corpsman said. He inserted a plastic airway down the navigator's throat and started squeezing rhythmically on a breather bag. "It's a nasty translation injury, like you'd expect from a torpedo hit. Neck vertebrae are crushed, his spinal cord's been damaged, maybe severed altogether. He needs to be on a life support respirator and we don't have one aboard."

  "Come on, Chief," Jeffrey said. "We've got a boatload of fancy pumps and spark-proof motors, a lifetime supply of pure 02, and some of the best engineers in the world. We'll make a respirator."

  "Sir," the corpsman said, pressing down on Monaghan's chest to get him to exhale, "that could take us hours."

  "Then we give him artificial respiration for hours … Phone Talker," Jeffrey ordered, " SEAL medic to the CACC stat …
They'll go in the hyperbaric chamber in the ASDS together, on oxygen, and the SEAL'Il breathe for Monaghan, however long it takes. When the respirator's done, we lock it into the chamber with them."

  Jeffrey eyed his weapons screen. Tubes one and three were loaded now with ADCAPs. Turn and rise and fire on Master 27? Get set to use one of the precious Mark 88s, a deepcapable nuclear torpedo, since Challenger's ADCAPs were conventional?

  Jeffrey turned to Sessions. "Sonar, can you tell me Master 27's depth?"

  "Sir, passive contact lost as reverb dwindled. Doppler showed her moving but less fast than us." Sessions worked his keyboard and conferred with Ilse. She worked her keyboard too. Sessions looked up. "Sir, last elevation angle datum applied to local ray trace path shows Master 27 passing through three thousand feet."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Sir, the calculations check."

  "Any sounds of hull distress? A bad equipment casualty, maybe, or hit by friendly CAPTOR fire?"

  Jeffrey waited as Sessions scanned his tapes.

  "No inrushing water or hatches popping, sir, no escaping bubbles or collapsing frames … No high-speed dive flow noise or groaning steel … and no impact with the bottom." Jeffrey made eye contact with Ilse.

  "It's Jan's boat," Ilse said. "This far down it has to be."

  "Yeah," Jeffrey said. "The Axis doesn't use titanium hulls."

  "Deutschland's in the North Atlantic," Morse said, "busy devastating the convoys from America."

  Jeffrey looked around the crowded CACC, silently cursing the typically overoptimistic battle damage assessment. "Voortrekker survived, people, and now she's after us. Our battle isn't over, it's just begun."

  * * *

  "Number One," ter Horst said, "launch another message buoy, Flash Double Zed priority again. Message reads: Am in contact with USS Challenger. Am best platform to prosecute, all units stand clear my chase, ter Horst sends … Add our position, depth and course and speed, and get it off immediately."

  "Aye aye, sir," Van Gelder said.

  "Load tube six with a nuclear 65. Prepare to fire a salvo of three."

  "Sir, this close to shore?"

  "I'm not going to detonate them here, Gunther. I'll run them twenty thousand meters further out, use a nice wide spread, since we don't have the target localized. That'll put the bursts a comfy forty klicks from land."