SSN

by Tom Clancy

  Cheyenne was currently deployed south of the Spratly Islands chain. Her new orders would send her on a voyage of over 660 miles.

  She had completed her mini-refit with McKee only a few days earlier, and the weapons she had taken on board during the load-out should serve nicely in the upcoming battle. She had twenty Mk 48 torpedoes and six Harpoon missiles ready for loading in her torpedo tubes, and six Tomahawk antishipping missiles (TASM) in her VLS tubes.

  This was the time when some submarine commanders delivered a pep talk to the officers and crew, but Mack didn’t believe in that. His men were all professionals, and he wanted them to act that way. They didn’t need to be pumped up to do their jobs. They simply needed to carry out their duties in a calm and proficient fashion.

  Mack smiled to himself at that thought. He’d leave the rah-rah speeches for cheerleaders and football coaches, who dealt with million-dollar prima donnas. Mack much preferred being able to rely on the competence and professionalism of the sailors on board Cheyenne.

  * * *

  Over a thousand miles away, the Chinese naval base at Zhanjiang was bustling with activity. The surface group had finally left port and was now headed in the direction of the Chinese Spratly Islands. They were going to position themselves between the American Carrier Battle Group and their islands in order to prevent the U.S. Navy from taking any actions against the Spratlys.

  This surface group was one of the most powerful surface-action groups ever to be assembled by the Chinese navy. Consisting of two of the new Luhu destroyers, three Luda I destroyers, and three Jianghu frigates, the group totaled eight ships in all, and they were all heavily armed.

  The two new Luhu destroyers carried two French Z- 9A helicopters apiece, and each surface ship carried a substantial quantity of surface-to-surface antiship missiles. Many of their vessels also were equipped with the French naval Crotale SAM system, which could take out any American helicopters that might stray too close to the Chinese force.

  The fleet had been rushed to sea, and though they were well armed, their commander couldn’t help wondering how well prepared they were. The Chinese People’s Liberation Army (Navy) had made great strides in gaining new equipment and training since he had graduated from the Canton Surface Vessel Academy, yet there were great strides remaining.

  The thing that bothered the Chinese commander the most was that, for all the strength and numbers of his surface group, he did not have the support of many submarines. The military, he knew, was strong in numbers, but much of their equipment was old and antiquated. Were the submarines in such a poor state of disrepair that they were unable to go to sea?

  This bothered him in part because of its implications for the Chinese armed forces as a whole. More important, however, like most of the officers in the navy, he had heard rumors of American submarines wreaking havoc on the Chinese forces in this area. If those rumors were true, without many SSNs or SSKs of his own, his surface group was a large, heavily armed, sitting duck.

  On board Cheyenne, Mack and his officers and crew were doing everything they could to substantiate those rumors — and maybe add a few new ones.

  Four hundred feet below the surface, Cheyenne picked up her next sonar contact.

  “Conn, sonar,” the sonar supervisor reported, “we’re getting a sonar contact, sounds like a Chinese merchant ship. It’s heading toward Swallow Reef.”

  Mack thought the situation over quickly and decided to ignore the merchant vessel. Cheyenne had a mission to perform, and he didn’t want to be delayed by taking out a noncombatant. He also didn’t want to alert the Chinese task group that Cheyenne was heading their way.

  Mack went to the conn. “Proceed at full speed, course 316,” he ordered the OOD. “Let the merchant go.”

  The OOD acknowledged his captain’s order.

  Slowly the Chinese merchant vessel steamed out of sonar range as Cheyenne continued on her way, not knowing that it had been a target and was saved by the graciousness of Captain Mack Mackey.

  Eighty-five miles southwest of the Spratlys, Cheyenne turned and headed northwest to bypass the Chinese-occupied Spratlys. Naval intelligence had reported a high probability of mines in the area, and Mack had opted to avoid the risk.

  The Chinese task group was still being tracked by the U.S. satellites. In addition, the carriers Independence and Nimitz—which were currently sailing in the Pacific — were monitoring radio traffic and electronic signals for any indications of the Chinese fleet’s plans.

  Cheyenne continued the “sprint-and-drift” technique during her long transit, but she also periodically went to periscope depth to communicate via SSIXS and to obtain better information on the position of the Chinese fleet. She also received a refinement of her orders — a refinement that Mack approved of, even though it carried an element of risk.

  Cheyenne was scheduled to arrive on station a full day ahead of the Chinese task group. Within twelve hours, Chinese helicopters would come within range of Cheyenne’s position, dropping lines of sonobuoys all around them. Cheyenne would have to stay like this, deep and silent, until the task group came within fifty miles of her position. Depending upon Mack’s assessment at the time, his SSN was then supposed to proceed to shallow depth and launch her Harpoon antiship missiles. If there were more targets than Harpoons, Cheyenne was instructed to attack the remaining ships with her Tomahawk antiship missiles (TASM).

  The TASM was a longer range missile than the Harpoon, and it carried a warhead with nearly twice the explosive. The Harpoon, on the other hand, was smaller and about fifty knots faster and thus much harder to destroy. The alternative was for Cheyenne to use only her Tomahawks and attack the Chinese task group from more than 250 miles away. But that would require external targeting information from either a U.S. aircraft or a satellite.

  That would be safer for Cheyenne, at least initially, but with only six Tomahawks on board, Cheyenne had no chance to destroy the entire task group from such a distance. Mack would then have to decide between allowing at least two Chinese ships to get away, or waiting for those ships to close to within Harpoon range before he could attack them.

  Mack didn’t want to do that. In the long run, it put Cheyenne more at risk. Launching the Tomahawks would give away their general bearing, and every helicopter and surface ship in the area would be coming after Cheyenne.

  No, Mack liked the other plan better. He’d wait until he could release a large number of missiles all at the same time. Cheyenne would then dive deep and head back to the Sulu Sea and the waiting submarine tender McKee in order to rearm and resupply for another mission.

  Mack had the OOD slow and come shallow enough for the floating wire to copy.

  “Conn, radio, we’re receiving important traffic on the floating wire. It seems there may be some submarines operating at our planned launch point. The reports indicate that they might even be Alfas.”

  “Maintain your present course and speed,” Mack said to the OOD.

  “Maintain my present course and speed, aye, sir,” the OOD replied.

  Cheyenne was making ten knots at 247 feet, close to the point of inception of cavitation. Mack made his best selection of speed versus depth for continuous broadcast copying.

  * * *

  The American frigate Ingraham (FFG-61) was nearly five hundred miles from Independence, and she was alone. She had been ordered to an area north of the Spratly Islands so that her two SH-60B Seahawk helicopters could help Cheyenne’s target missiles. Her captain was pleased with neither her mission nor the reasoning behind it.

  Ingraham, an Oliver Hazard Perry class frigate, had been selected for this mission for two simple reasons: she could do the job and she was expendable. The 3,500-ton Ingraham was cheap, inexpensive, and had about 150 fewer sailors on board than did the more powerful Ticonderoga class cruisers.

  The captain had received word of this mission three days ago when his ship was dispatched from the Nimitz Carrier Battle Group into the South China Sea. He knew that Nim
itz could have sent one of the more powerful Aegis cruisers or destroyers, but that would have left the carrier more vulnerable to attack.

  Ingraham’s captain didn’t like being thought of as expendable — but he couldn’t really argue with the logic. And it didn’t matter anyway. He would carry out his orders to the best of his ability, whether he liked them or not.

  He didn’t know much about Cheyenne, the submarine he would be supporting. He knew that, like Ingraham herself, Cheyenne was the last of her class. He also knew that Cheyenne, though commissioned less than a year earlier, had already become one of the most successful submarines in American naval history. And he knew that her skipper, Captain Mackey, was a good man and a highly respected commanding officer. He hoped that this mission would put his own selection board jacket on the top of the pile when the 0–6 selection board was next in session.

  For this support mission, Ingraham was equipped with a full loadout of weapons, which had both pleased and surprised her Captain. He guessed that the full loadout was his admiral’s way of compensating for sending Ingraham on such a mission, without any support. Ingraham’ s armament included thirty-six Standard SM-1 surface-to-air missiles, four Harpoon missiles, and a full load of Mk 46 torpedoes for their Mk 32 torpedo tubes, plus lots of ammunition for both their Mk 75 gun and their 20mm Phalanx CIWS. The frigate also carried two SH- 60B Seahawks, each of which was equipped with a powerful APS-124 surface-search radar under its nose. This radar would be invaluable in providing mid-course guidance to the antiship missiles launched from Cheyenne.

  Ingraham’s job was to support Cheyenne. If any of the submarine’s missiles failed to hit their mark, Ingraham had permission to fire her Harpoon missiles at the Chinese task group. She was also permitted to fire on any enemy vessels or aircraft with which she came into contact, but the emphasis of her mission was to support Cheyenne.

  On board Cheyenne, the communicator had an update for Mack. “Captain,” he said, “we just received word that Ingraham has arrived in position. She relayed a message for you, Captain. It reads, ‘all quiet on the northern front.’”

  Mack smiled at that. “Funny,” he said. “How long until we reach our launch point?”

  The OOD conversed quickly with the QMOW (quartermaster of the watch) and determined that Cheyenne was currently ninety-two miles southwest of where she needed to be. “If we increase speed to full, our ETA will be in four hours, Captain,” answered the OOD.

  Mack acknowledged that. “Come right to course 045, speed full, depth four hundred feet,” he ordered.

  Two hours later the sonar room began buzzing with action.

  “Conn, sonar, we have two convergence zone contacts on the spherical array, classified as probable Alfa class SSNs, bearing 010 and 014.”

  As the sonar supervisor continued the basis of his classification, a picture emerged that Mack didn’t like — and one that Ingraham’s captain was going to like even less.

  The frigate was supposed to be on station forty-three miles northeast of Cheyenne. Mack didn’t know it yet, but the two sonar contacts, Masters 37 and 38, were traveling next to each other forty miles northwest of Ingraham, which put them at the third point of an almost equilateral triangle, approximately forty-two miles from Cheyenne.

  Making turns for 12 knots, the Alfas were running at a depth of fifty meters, not knowing that Cheyenne was approaching the area. They were heading toward Ingraham, closing in for what they thought would be an easy kill.

  “Come to periscope depth,” Mack ordered the OOD. “I want to alert Ingraham.”

  Within minutes, Cheyenne was at sixty feet and the “flash” message was sent via satellite to the lone frigate. The message included Cheyenne’s estimated position and bearing to the two Chinese submarines and the fact that Cheyenne had tentatively classified them as Alfas.

  “Conn, sonar, Masters 37 and 38 have increased speed. Blade rate indicates they’re running at thirty-eight — make that forty knots, sir. It looks like they’re making their move.”

  Mack frowned. That wasn’t what he’d wanted to hear. He’d wanted to remain silent until he launched his missiles, but that was no longer an option. Not with two Chinese Alfas racing to destroy Ingraham. There were few circumstances where Mack would have stood by and watched an American ship come under fire, and this wasn’t one of them. He needed Ingraham. He needed it to guide Cheyenne‘s missiles over the horizon. Without Ingraham, Cheyenne’s mission was likely to fail.

  “Increase speed to flank,” he ordered. “I want to intercept those Alfas. Come right to course 025.”

  “Increase speed to flank and come right to course 025, aye, sir.”

  Cheyenne‘s message, rapidly turned around at CTF 74 headquarters, galvanized Ingraham’s officers and crew. The SH-60 crew members ran toward their helicopters, strapping their gear to their flight vests as they ran.

  “Launch both helos,” the Ingraham captain ordered.

  In the operations center on the frigate the sonar room was silent, listening. They had detected the two Alfas, bearing 310 and 320 from them, as soon as the Chinese submarines increased their speed to flank.

  “Captain, sonar, we just detected what must be Cheyenne, bearing 235. She’s running at flank speed also. It looks like she’s trying to put herself in between us and the Chinese submarines.”

  “Way to go, Mack,” Ingraham’s captain said softly.

  But the frigate wasn’t out of the woods yet. The Chinese Alfas could accelerate up to forty-three knots submerged. On a good day, with a clean hull, Cheyenne maxed out at nearly forty knots which meant that the Alfas were going to arrive first.

  Not if I can help it, the Ingraham captain thought to himself. “Helm,” he ordered, “come left to 235, all ahead flank.” He planned to head toward Cheyenne at his frigate’s top speed. With luck and a strong tail wind, Ingraham just might have a chance.

  * * *

  Even running at flank speed, Cheyenne‘s sonar was able to detect Ingraham’s maneuver. The bearing indicated to Mack that she was on station where she was supposed to be. It didn’t take Mack long to figure out what her captain had in mind. On the 1MC, Mack himself ordered, “Man battle stations.”

  According to the BSY-1 computers, the range to the Alfas was closing fast. The Chinese submarines were heading southeast at forty-two knots, and Cheyenne was heading northeast at 38 knots. Mack would have liked to stay silent, but flank speed was Cheyenne‘s only hope of heading off the Alfas. Besides, at forty-two knots, the Chinese submarines had no chance of hearing Cheyenne’s approach.

  When the range to the closest Alfa, Master 37, reached 30,000 yards, Mack ordered tubes one and two made ready in all respects. He also ordered the outer doors opened. The range to the second Alfa, Master 38, was just under 33,000 yards.

  “Sir,” the fire-control coordinator reported, “we’re in range of the first Alfa, Master 37. We’ll be in range of Master 38 in three minutes.”

  Mack nodded, but he did not give the command to shoot. “I want to wait until they are within 28,000 yards,” he said. “Tell me when Master 37 comes within that range. Firing point procedures, tube one, Master 37.”

  Travelling at this speed, Cheyenne was relying on her BSY-1 computers to give her any information she required on the positions of the sonar contacts. Because of her speed, sonar was not able to hear much beyond the water rushing by the hull.

  As Cheyenne‘s BSY-1 computed range neared 28,000 yards, and the Ingraham’s CIC (combat information center) reported the range to the Chinese submarines as 25,000 yards, the SH-60 Seahawks from Ingraham came into play, laying down lines of sonobuoys one after the other in an effort to determine the exact location of the Alfas. Once they had that information in their onboard computers, they could drop their own torpedoes on the Alfas.

  The fire-control coordinator informed Mack the moment the range had decreased to 28,000 yards. Without hesitating, Mack ordered, “Back full. Match sonar bearings and shoot, tube one, Master 37.”
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  With Cheyenne’s headway quickly killed by the backing bell, Mack ordered, “Ahead one third.”

  “Conn, sonar, unit one running hot, straight, and normal.”

  If the Alfa continued on its present course and speed, the torpedo would reach it in seven and a half minutes.

  The crew of the lead Alfa was excited. They had been chasing their quarry for some time now and were finally closing in for their first kill — against an American warship, no less. For all their excitement, though, they had no idea that there was an American Mk 48 headed their way.

  A hundred feet above the surface, one of Ingraham‘s SH-60 LAMPS III helicopters detected Cheyenne’s first torpedo within moments of its launch. The helos each had a single Mk 50 on board, which were smaller than Cheyenne’s torpedoes. The Mk 50’s hundred pound warhead was less than a sixth the weight of the explosive packed into Mack’s Mk 48.

  A quick communication flashed between the two helos, and moments later both pilots launched their Mk 50s — but not at the lead Alfa. Cheyenne wasn’t likely to need their help with that one. Instead, they targeted the second Chinese submarine, Mack’s Master 38.

  Below the surface, Cheyenne was now comfortably within range of both submarines and was steering the Mk 48 into the lead Alfa, Master 37.

  “Conn, sonar,” the sonar supervisor reported, “Ingraham’ s SH-60s just dropped two torpedoes, sounds like Mk 50s, on the bearing to the second Alfa, Master 38.” There was a pause and then the fire-control coordinator added, “It looks like they’re going to hit, too, sir. BSY-1 shows they dropped them right on top of it.”

  Neither of the Chinese submarines had any idea that they had been targeted by any American torpedoes. The lead Chinese Alfa never would.

  The 650-pound warhead of Cheyenne’s Mk 48 detonated directly aft of the Alfa’s single screw and blew off the stern of the submarine. Running at four hundred feet, the crew on board the lead Alfa never had a chance. Those that didn’t drown immediately as water rushed into the engine room were crushed by the pressure of the deep sea.