SSN

by Tom Clancy

  “Sonar, conn, aye,” responded the captain. “Time to acquisition?”

  “Fourteen minutes, fifteen seconds, Captain,” answered the combat systems officer.

  By now, Mack had learned that a minute never lasted so long as when you were waiting for torpedoes to acquire the enemy — unless, of course, you were waiting for an enemy torpedo to acquire you.

  “Both units have acquired.”

  “Conn, sonar, Masters 76 and 80 are increasing speed, cavitating heavily.”

  Sonar reported noisemakers launched by the two Akulas. Mack responded by ordering “steer the weapons.” In order to do this, Cheyenne needed to change her course to the left by ninety degrees so that the bearings to the incoming Akula would diverge from the bearings to the stationary noisemakers.

  As soon as the course change was completed, sonar detected the other three Akulas. They were to the northwest of the ones being attacked and were heading for the Paracels.

  When a bearing spread was obtained, the combat systems officer reported the torpedoes on course for intercept.

  “Cut the wires, shut the outer doors, and reload tubes three and four,” ordered the captain. “Make tubes one and two ready in all respects, including opening the outer doors.”

  He didn’t expect to need them, but another melee situation was always possible, and it was better to be prepared for an emergency that never happened than to save the effort and regret it.

  “Conn, sonar, we have four torpedoes in the water, bearings 358, 359, 006, and 008. Both Akulas have launched.”

  “Match sonar bearings and shoot, Masters 76 and 80, as soon as tubes one and two are ready.”

  Mack knew it was time for Cheyenne to clear datum. It was also time for their own countermeasures to be launched. As soon as he received the report of tubes one and two being fired electrically, he ordered the outer doors shut and the tubes reloaded. That would cut the guidance wires, but there was no help for it, and those torpedoes were outstanding at doing their own thing.

  “Steady as she goes,” he said. “All ahead flank. Do not cavitate. Make your depth one thousand feet.” When those orders had been acknowledged, but before they had been executed, he added, “Rig ship for depth charge.”

  The Akulas were running away. Mack was relying on the countermeasures to hide him from their sonar. That would give Cheyenne the chance to slip away — but Mack had no intention of slipping away. He was going after the fleeing Akulas.

  Cheyenne reached flank speed, on course 275, and at one thousand feet, as the Russian torpedoes entered the baffles after the countermeasures. Sonar didn’t hear Cheyenne’s last two torpedoes as they entered their terminal homing modes.

  “Conn, sonar, two explosions bearing,” the sonar supervisor began, but he interrupted himself. “Two more explosions, all to the north. They’re lighting up all three sonar consoles, Captain.”

  He couldn’t provide range information for Mack, however. There was too much reverberation to get both direct path and bottom bounce information. But with the four explosions, sonar was sure the torpedoes found their mark.

  Moments later sonar’s guess was confirmed. The four explosions were followed by the distinctive sounds of external pressure vessels on the Russian SSNs imploding from their descent to the bottom of the South China Sea. All four Akulas had been killed.

  Four of seven, Mack thought. That’s what CTF 74 wanted. But it’s not what I want. Cheyenne would try for the last three, if she could catch them before they entered the territorial waters surrounding the Paracels.

  First, though, he had to make sure the Akulas didn’t have any support. He ordered Cheyenne to proceed above the layer, and then to clear her baffles to starboard. Only the three Akulas fleeing to the Paracels were there.

  Satisfied, Mack took Cheyenne back beneath the layer. He also took the opportunity to secure from battle stations while they took up hot pursuit toward the shallow waters of the Paracels. At his command, the crew deployed the TB-16 for the time being, at least until they started their approach to shallow water.

  Cheyenne continued on course toward the Paracels, at seven hundred feet to keep beneath the layer, while battle stations and the rig for depth charge were secured.

  Mack held his all-officer meeting after the battle stations fire-control party had reconstructed the attacks and reported their findings. Cheyenne had performed superbly, and the critique was very positive, but one item from the battle was bothering Mack.

  It had been clear earlier that the Chinese commander-in-chief had ordered drastic measures. Cheyenne had seen that before, and had taken measures to counter it — at least, as much as possible. And Mack could understand it, from the Chinese… but not from the Russians. They weren’t at war with the United States. They had no reason to sacrifice themselves in battle. But they had.

  Just like the Chinese Hans earlier, these Akulas had continued on course right at Cheyenne’s datum without trying to turn away, even when Mk 48s were coming their way. And it just didn’t make sense. Not with Russian crews aboard those Akulas. And not with Russia not formally involved in this war.

  The officers discussed it among themselves, but no one came up with an answer that satisfied Mack. He filed the problem for the time being, but he intended to keep it in mind. Just as he’d shifted his tactics against the Chinese, so, too, would he take this into account the next time he went head-to-head with an Akula.

  As Cheyenne approached the time for coming shallow, sonar reported numerous merchant ship contacts and also reported contact lost on the three Akulas. Mack wasn’t surprised, and at least they were still south of the banks where they didn’t have to worry about the oil rigs.

  Biologics were also hindering the sonar search, and increasing the Russians’ options. Running beneath and with the merchant ships was an old ploy, and one Mack wasn’t about to fall for. He ordered sonar to conduct a careful tonal search on the bearings of the merchants and the biologics. A disturbance of previously undisturbed biologics could mean that a submarine was proceeding in their scattering layer.

  The search was painstaking, but it paid off. Sonar gained contact on one Akula as it entered shallow water — and none too soon. Cheyenne’s towed array would have to be at least partially retrieved before she could enter the shallows without fear of damaging the array, and Mack couldn’t risk that. He expected he would need it for future patrols, especially since neither Arco nor McKee had replacement arrays for Cheyenne. If the runways at Cubi got fixed before the war was over, replacements would come in by airlift. Until then, Cheyenne couldn’t risk the one she had.

  Mack ordered the TB-16 to short stay as Cheyenne ventured inside the one hundred fathom curve south of Bombay Reef in the Paracels. There would not be much time before the Akulas were safely in port, which meant that despite the Crazy Ivan or kamikaze Chinese maneuvers, a short-range attack was inevitable.

  Battle stations were manned once the range to the Akula closed to inside 15,000 yards. Almost immediately sonar reported transient noises, surfacing submarines bearing 345 and 350. Cheyenne was ready with two outer doors already open.

  “Snapshots, tubes one and two, bearings 345 and 350 respectively,” Mack ordered. He had no idea what the Master Numbers were from the previous battle in deep water, but it didn’t really matter. They would shoot now and reconstruct later.

  As with almost all snapshots, the Mk 48s would have to do their own thing in detecting, tracking, and sinking two of the Akulas, but Mack expected them to deliver. This would be just like sinking surface ships. The Russian submarines would increase speed after surfacing and, cavitating heavily, would never hear the torpedoes approaching in their baffles.

  No battle plan ever survives contact with the enemy, Mack reminded himself. But there was an answer to that. If the only element of your plan is contact with the enemy, there’s nothing to survive, and you’ve got a better chance of success.

  He was right. The two torpedoes, which had been set for shallow wa
ter, quickly acquired the Akulas. They detonated beneath their targets, rupturing the ballast tanks and sending the SSNs to settle to the bottom onto the coral reef.

  “Conn, sonar, we have explosions on the bearings of the torpedoes. Also have those same sounds of Christmas balls falling off a tree and breaking.” Two of the Akulas were running aground on purpose after the explosions, hoping to keep their sails high enough out of the water that the crew could escape safely. Mack let them go. He didn’t care about the Russian sailors. He cared only that the boats would be useless for the rest of the war.

  Cheyenne got to periscope depth in one hundred feet of water in time to see the third Akula passing safely over the horizon. Mack didn’t mind the one getting away so much as he minded not being able to get closer to the grounded Akulas. He would have liked to give the crew a special movie that night — periscope videos of Russian submariners jumping ship.

  He smiled to himself as he gave the orders to take Cheyenne back out into deeper water. They’d have to settle for The Sound of Music, which was one of Mack’s favorites. Or, he thought, his grin growing wider, maybe he’d give them a real treat and let them watch From Russia with Love.

  10. Rescue

  Cheyenne’s new orders came through on her floating wire communications antenna. Mack was still thinkin about the fact that the Chinese had Akula II class SSNs, and wondering how many other surprises he would have to face before this war was over.

  One more, at least, he realized as he read over the new orders. At least one more.

  Mack called for a wardroom meeting in half an hour and then headed to his stateroom as he read over the orders again. He could have called the meeting immediately, but he wanted to thoroughly examine the details of these new orders.

  Thirty minutes later, the captain was seated at his normal position at the head of the wardroom table when the other officers entered. Mack didn’t wait for the normal exchange of greetings and other pleasantries. As soon as the others took their seats he began to speak.

  “As you may have guessed from this meeting, we have received new orders.” He nodded at the printout lying on the table before him. “You all, I’m sure, remember the United Fuels Corporation prospecting ship, Benthic Adventure. She was seized by the Chinese back in late July. That seizure, it turns out, is what started this war we are now fighting.”

  The officers around the table stirred at that. They knew that Mack wouldn’t be bringing this up now unless it impacted on their current mission.

  “Thus far,” Mack went on, “the Chinese had been using the ship for drilling operations around the oil fields in the Spratly Islands.” He paused for a moment, glancing around at each of his assembled officers. “The reason I say the Chinese ’had’ been using the ship for drilling is because at 2300 last night, elements of the U.S. Navy’s SEAL Team One were inserted by helicopter from Independence, boarded, and recaptured Benthic Adventure. Which means, among other things, that we won’t have to worry about the ASDS (Advanced Swimmer Delivery System) vehicle. So far, the Chinese have yet to realize that the ship is now back under American control.”

  Mack paused again, smiling at the thought of the Chinese’s reaction when they learned. Then he sobered and went on, “The Chinese, of course, will find out soon enough. Benthic Adventure is now leaving the Spratly Islands under the protection of two Ticonderoga class cruisers, Gettysburg and Princeton. We are to join this convoy as soon as they clear the shallow water of the Spratly Islands. I have already directed the navigator to plot the most expedient course for the rendezvous point in order to meet up with the escort group as quickly as possible.”

  Several questions were asked of the captain who then dismissed the meeting and headed to the control room to find out from the navigator what timetable they could expect on their voyage to meet the convoy group.

  * * *

  Several hundred miles away, some other members of U.S. Navy SEAL Team One had been inserted into the Spratlys and had begun fortifying their new home. For the next few days, their teammates on board would make every effort to take Benthic Adventure out of danger. In the meantime, their job was to deploy Stinger antiaircraft missiles in positions near the probable routes of attack for any enemy aircraft or ships.

  These missiles, however, as the SEAL team knew, were more of an emotional security blanket than any real support. Benthic Adventure’s real protection was provided by the two Aegis cruisers, Princeton (CG-59) and Gettysburg (CG-64), two of the most capable warships in the entire U.S. Navy.

  The Aegis warships had been designed to protect American aircraft carriers from massive Soviet air attacks, and these vessels also were equipped with the latest technology in antisubmarine and antisurface warfare. These two warships had sailed from Pearl Harbor as part of the Independence CVBG and had been waiting with Independence until they received word that the SEALs had recaptured the United Fuels prospecting ship. Once the capture was confirmed, Princeton and Gettysburg sailed at flank speed to Benthic’s position and were now providing an escort out of the shallow Spratly Islands area.

  The entire group would be glad once they reached deeper water. Once there, Cheyenne would be able to join them and take over their antisubmarine warfare patrols. Each of the warships’ two Seahawk helicopters had been working nonstop attempting to track any submarines that might pose a threat to their mission, but they weren’t as well equipped for this as Cheyenne.

  * * *

  “What’s our time of arrival for rendezvous off the Spratly Islands?” Mack asked.

  The navigator looked up from the quartermaster’s chart he’d been studying. Cheyenne was running at the ordered depth of four hundred feet and twenty-six knots as they approached the islands from the north, having earlier departed the Paracels. “We should be there within seven hours,” he said.

  “Come to periscope depth as soon as we’re sure that there are no surface ships in the area,” ordered the captain. “I want to send a message to Gettysburg and tell them what time they should expect us.”

  Cheyenne proceeded to periscope depth and transmitted the SSIXS message over her communications mast to the Ticonderoga cruiser escort group. They had been running with their TB-23 thin-line array deployed for several hours now, but had not detected any sonar contacts other than biologics, the undersea life of the South China Sea.

  As soon as Cheyenne arrived in position to work with the escort ships, Captain Mackey would be in charge of ASW operations. Benthic Adventure would stay in the center of the group, with Gettysburg and Princeton to her left and right respectively. In order to cover the group’s blind spots to their rear, the cruisers would take turns deploying their SQR-19 towed arrays, and their SH-60B helicopters would provide long-range, over-the-horizon radar coverage, thus giving the group a 360-degree buffer zone protecting the recaptured vessel. Cheyenne would run quietly in advance of the group.

  Time passed quickly. Five and a half hours later, Cheyenne’s sonar supervisor advised the captain that they had detected the Ticonderoga cruisers to their south. Upon hearing this, Mack again went to periscope depth and transmitted their location to the escorts, with an updated ETA and his own tonal map.

  The sonar operators on board Princeton detected Cheyenne’s knuckle soon afterward, and recognized Mack’s sonar signature quickly. Mack had realized early on that the top speed of the convoy had never gone above twelve knots. This was, he correctly guessed, Benthic Adventure’s top speed.

  After making her transmission, Cheyenne began receiving updated information on the cruisers’ new course, heading 270. The three surface ships were to sail in this direction in order to meet up with the USS Independence.

  Naval intelligence had reported numerous Chinese surface and submarine groups operating in the area between the Spratlys and USS Independence. That didn’t bother Mack, though. Cheyenne could handle the ASW mission, and the Aegis cruisers would easily deal with any surface or air threats.

  As soon as the group left the shallow portio
n of the waters near the Spratly Islands, Cheyenne was once more in her element. Mack ordered the OOD to proceed to four hundred feet and patrol the area in front of their escort group.

  Sprinting several thousand yards ahead of the group and then waiting, Cheyenne detected her first contact less than an hour later. The TB-23 was receiving tonals on this contact at quite a distance, which indicated that the signal’s source was not making any effort to be quiet. Still, it was more than an hour before they were able to provide enough information to the BSY-1 computers to determine range with any reasonable degree of accuracy.

  “Conn, sonar, we’ve got two positive submarine contacts, probable second convergence zone. Both are making turns for thirteen knots, bearing 310. The contacts are coming from the northwest and are closing.”

  Cheyenne was currently operating about 14,000 yards in advance of the surface group. Mack did a quick mental calculation and determined that the enemy submarines were roughly sixty miles from Benthic Adventure.

  Mack didn’t have to guess at the orders those two enemy submarines were operating under. They were headed in their direction in an effort to intercept the convoy and destroy as many American ships as possible. The fact that they were coming from the northwest indicated that they were part of the Chinese task group originating at Zhanjiang Naval Base.

  Mack couldn’t know whether word had reached China yet that Benthic Adventure had been liberated, but he was sure that as soon as they learned that fact they would make every effort to destroy it and embarrass the United States.

  “Conn, sonar,” the sonar supervisor reported, “those two sonar contacts have now been positively identified as Romeo class diesel attack submarines. I estimate that they are ten thousand yards apart. Their speed is constant at thirteen knots based on the blade rate.” Thirteen knots meant that they were in a hurry.