by Tom Clancy
The old Romeos were China’s most numerous submarine class, and Mack knew that China had dozens of them. He was also sure that this would probably not be the only attack headed in their direction.
“Captain,” the communicator said, tapping Mack on the shoulder in order to get his attention. “Gettysburg just sent us a message. Their radar has picked up three contacts that they think are Chinese missile boats, and they are asking if we have detected them or any other warships in the area.”
Mack analyzed the situation quickly and decided to bring Cheyenne back to periscope depth. He wanted to tell the cruisers about the Romeos they had detected, but before he could give the order sonar had another urgent report.
“Conn, sonar, we just picked up five fast attack craft headed in our direction, on nearly the same bearing as the Romeos. They’re running at twelve knots, sir, and we can tell that they’re operating very close together.”
More information was flowing through the computers, and Mack walked into the sonar room to get the information as soon as it was available.
“Captain, these are definitely Chinese. They sound most like the Hainan class fast attack craft.”
That was enough for Mack. Without waiting for more information, he turned and ran back to the control room. The surface ships in the convoy he was tasked with protecting needed this information, and they needed it fast.
“Come to periscope depth,” he ordered as soon as he reached the control room.
“Come to periscope depth, aye, sir.”
Under normal circumstances, Cheyenne would have cleared her baffles at 130 feet, but Mack ordered her to go directly to periscope depth. There simply wasn’t time to do everything by the numbers, and he was confident that he had control of the tactical situation and the current contacts.
Once the message was sent, Cheyenne proceeded immediately to 247 feet without waiting for an answer. They could receive confirmation via the floating wire. She only needed to be at periscope depth to transmit messages, not to receive them.
On board Gettysburg, the convoy group commander immediately realized the seriousness of this situation. The submarines he wasn’t too worried about — they were Cheyenne’s responsibility, and he had absolute confidence in Captain Mackey and his crew. The surface ships were a different matter. They were up to him, but he and his crew had been well trained to deal with situations like this one.
Princeton immediately launched one of her Seahawk helicopters in the direction of the Chinese task group. In order to increase its range, the SH-60 was unarmed for this mission. It would have to loiter for some time and get accurate data on the Chinese ships headed for the Ticonderoga group. The SH-60s from Gettysburg would stay ready in case Cheyenne needed any help with the two submarine contacts.
Nine hundred feet above the South China Sea, Seahawk 309, assigned to the USS Princeton, searched the sea with her powerful radar. It didn’t take long to detect their targets. From their vantage point high above sea level, the operators on board could see much farther, both with their eyes and with their instruments.
On board Cheyenne, sonar detected the SH-60 launch.
“Conn, sonar, the towed array just detected a helicopter flying overhead,” reported the sonar supervisor.
Mack assumed it was a Seahawk from the Ticonderoga group, heading out to get a better look at those attack craft headed in their direction. Either way, he didn’t have time to worry about it. Cheyenne’s primary responsibility was those two Romeos, Masters 83 and 84, and Mack set about taking care of them before they could threaten the convoy.
“Increase speed to thirty-two knots,” Mack ordered. At that speed, Cheyenne would be within Mk 48 range of the two Romeos within an hour — less if the Chinese submarines continued at their current speed. He also ordered battle stations manned.
Cheyenne picked up speed rapidly. Mack kept his towed array deployed to detect any other sonar contacts that might be in the area, but his first priority was killing the Romeos. He knew very well that the Ticonderoga cruiser group above would be more than a match for the surface boats headed toward the group.
The Chinese missile boats sped forward, confidently. The five Hainan fast attack craft had been scrambled from Zhanjiang Naval Base several hours earlier, just one hour after the Romeo submarines had left. They were part of an all-out effort on the part of the Chinese. As soon as he had received word that the captured American oil vessel had been seized by American SEALs, the Chinese South Sea Fleet commander, Vice Admiral Wang Yongguo, decided to sink it at any cost. He ordered every available ship not already assigned to a prior mission to attack the task force escorting the vessel.
This was more a matter of national pride than of military significance, but it was a decision Vice Admiral Yongguo agreed with. The American-registered prospecting ship had been in Chinese waters — contested waters, perhaps, but Chinese nonetheless — after China had invaded the Spratly Islands. Now the Americans had recaptured the ship and the Chinese military, under direct orders from the Chinese government, wanted the ship destroyed.
The Hainan fast attack craft were generally considered to be ordinary patrol boats. They were usually armed with guns and were often tasked with mining activities. These five boats, however, had their aft 57mm guns replaced — not with the YJ-1 anti-ship missile launchers that were the usual replacement, but with two HY-2 missiles. These missiles had a maximum range of over fifty nautical miles. To take advantage of this, Vice Admiral Yongguo had ordered them to head in the direction of the Americans, hoping that at least some of their craft would get close enough to launch their missiles.
The crew on the Chinese patrol boats had been pleased with their assignment. They had long-range missiles on board. They had help beneath the surface from two diesel attack submarines. And they had a chance to strike a blow for their country.
They remained extremely confident until they heard the whoosh of a helicopter rotor fly near them from the south.
* * *
As instructed, the American SH-60 buzzed in for a close look at the five Chinese attack craft. The copilot on board the Seahawk, examining the ship through his binoculars, could tell that each of the ships had what looked like two missile tubes fitted on their aft end. He would have liked to have gotten even closer, but when the pilot tried to move in, the lead Chinese boat opened up on them with a barrage of 25mm gunfire.
The SH-60 pulled back and the pilot radioed Princeton. “Seahawk 309 to Princeton, we’ve just received small-caliber fire from the lead boat. They are fast attack craft and it looked like they are each carrying two big missiles on their aft end.”
“We copy that, 309. Is your current position safe?”
The helicopter had gained altitude and was out of danger. “Sure is,” the pilot responded. “You can launch those Harpoons anytime.”
Princeton acknowledged that, and the Seahawk took up station near the five Chinese attack boats. Her job now would be to provide target data on the surface ships, first to Princeton and then to the actual missiles in order to ensure that they hit their correct targets.
* * *
The Chinese Romeo submarines, like most older Romeo models, carried the standard sonar system given them by the Soviets many years before. Called the Feniks, the Russian word for “phoenix,” this system dated back to the 1950s. Outdated and obsolete, it was no match for an ultramodern opponent like Cheyenne and, unlike its namesake, could not rise again from the ashes of defeat.
“What’s the range to our Romeos?” Mack asked. They had been travelling for thirteen minutes at thirty-two knots and had just slowed to get a clear picture of the events going on around them. The Romeos had continued running at twelve knots in their direction, apparently not aware that Cheyenne was stalking them.
“BSY-1 convergence zone range to the first Romeo, Master 83, is 68,000 yards, bearing 030,” the fire-control coordinator reported. “The other Romeo, Master 84, is at 69,000 yards, bearing 320.”
Mack ordered f
lank speed in pursuit of the closing Romeos, and secured from battle stations until the range was closed.
* * *
On board the USS Princeton, five Harpoons exploded out of their missile canisters fitted in the far aft portion of the warship. The missiles streaked fast and low, flying at sea level to avoid radar detection. They had been given the general location of the craft, but because the Chinese boats were moving at a high rate of speed and operating very close together, the missiles would be more accurate when they had direct feedback on their targets via helicopter.
But the Harpoons weren’t the only missiles in the air. Shortly after Princeton fired off its Harpoons, two smaller, thinner missiles were launched, this time from one of the Chinese fast attack craft. Within seconds, the two SA-14s, hand-held surface-to-air missiles, had reached their top speed and were homing in on the American SH-60.
The American helicopter detected the missiles as soon as they were launched, but that was already far too late. The Seahawk was too close, with no room to maneuver and no time to run. Moments later, they exploded into the bottom of the helicopter, sending it down in a burning fireball.
Princeton knew immediately that something had happened.
“Captain, we just lost contact with the Seahawk. She’s no longer showing up on the radar scope.”
There was only one way to interpret that. The captain knew as soon as he heard it that his helicopter had been shot down. His first thought was to get a rescue helicopter out to find any survivors. His second thought was for revenge.
* * *
The five Harpoon missiles continued on their way toward the Chinese task group. The plan had been for each missile to strike a different ship, but that plan had depended on the Seahawk to act as a spotter. Without the final data from the SH-60, the Harpoons turned on their active seekers when they neared the programmed area and searched for whatever targets they could find in the water.
The first two Harpoons to hit closed in and slammed into the lead Hainan. They struck directly below the waterline. The entire boat, which displaced less than five hundred tons, was literally picked up out of the water and thrown upside down. Very little was left of the small craft after the two Harpoons exploded.
The third Harpoon homed in on the boat farthest from the pack. The missile streaked in and detonated in the bridge of the ship, killing over half of the seventy-eight sailors on board. The rest died slowly, of smoke inhalation and the fires caused by the burning fuel, ammunition, and aluminum.
Two more Harpoons, as if they were guided by vengeance, crashed into the same ship that had launched the SA-14s at the helo. One of the missiles hit in the fore section, the other in the aft portion. Between them they tore the thin metal hull apart.
Three ships hit, three ships sunk. In other circumstances, that would have been an excellent record. In this case, however, the important thing was not how many ships had been destroyed. What mattered was the two ships that survived, with their missiles intact, to launch against Benthic Adventure.
The remaining Hainan attack craft were in trouble. They lacked good data on the location of the American surface group, but they lacked time as well. They had no idea how long it would be before another salvo of Harpoons appeared on the horizon. Playing it safe, the two commanding officers gave the orders for the two craft to launch their missiles in the overall direction of Benthic Adventure and then turn back and head for China. They had lost more than half of their group, but their mission would still be a success if they could destroy an American naval vessel — or, even better, Benthic Adventure herself.
* * *
Mack was notified of the latest developments in his stateroom. The communicator appeared in his doorway, a message printout in his hand.
“Captain,” the communicator said, “we just received a message from Gettysburg. They report that the Chinese task group has shot down their Seahawk. They also report that three of the Chinese craft have been destroyed, but the remaining two have managed to squeeze off four missiles in their direction. They have requested our help, sir. They ask that, if we are within range of the missile craft, we engage them while Princeton and Gettysburg focus on the incoming antiship missiles. If we are unable to get an exact fix on their location, Gettysburg asks us to radio back and they will launch their Tomahawks at the targets.”
The thought of a 1,000-pound Tomahawk missile warhead blowing apart a small Chinese craft brought a momentary smile to Mack’s face. Then he thought of the crew on board the Seahawk and suddenly it didn’t seem so amusing.
He grabbed a pencil and paper and drafted a quick message.
BASED ON YOUR REPORT, CHINESE FAST ATTACK CRAFT ARE BEARING 279 AND 283 FROM CHEYENNE. RANGE IS NOW 66,000 YARDS. WILL COMMENCE HARPOON LAUNCHING AS SOON AS PRACTICAL.
“Send this to Gettysburg,” he said, “and then have the navigator plot a course to those two Chinese ships.” He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t have to. Cheyenne would worry about the two noisy Romeo submarines later.
Tubes one and two were reloaded with Harpoon missiles and the intercept course to the attack craft was again verified. As soon as Cheyenne was in optimal firing position, at one hundred feet beneath the surface, the Harpoons were ejected from Cheyenne’s torpedo tubes on the manual fire-control solution, and they headed toward the surface and then toward Masters 85 and 86. Once their engines ignited, there was no stopping them.
The missiles found their targets within minutes. The data provided via Cheyenne’s BSY-1 fire-control system was remarkably accurate, and even had the Chinese craft tried to evade, it would have done them no good. As it was, they were confident that with their own HY-2 missiles tracking toward the American surface group and keeping them occupied, they were out of danger.
Their first clue that they were wrong was also their last. The two Harpoons closed quickly, impacting amidships, just below the waterline, one missile per Hainan.
Minutes later, the sea was once again calm as the remains of the two attack craft slipped below the surface.
“Now,” said Mack calmly, “about those two Chinese submarines… ”
Tubes one and two were reloaded with Mk 48s.
* * *
On board the American cruisers Princeton and Gettysburg, an air of tension ran through the control rooms. Their SPY-1B multifunction radars were doing exactly what they were designed to — track the incoming Chinese missiles and calculate optimal intercept locations for the cruisers’ SM-2 surface-to-air missiles. The four Chinese missiles were closing in at just under the speed of sound, which left only a few minutes of reaction time.
Less than thirty seconds after the Chinese ships had launched their four HY-2s, the fire-control systems had their data and the two Aegis cruisers began launching their SM-2 SAMs at the incoming missiles. Gettysburg was the first to fire, her fore Mk 41, sixty-one-cell launcher shooting off six missiles one after another. Six more SAMs leapt from the deck of Princeton, all twelve heading straight for the speeding Chinese HY-2s.
Within seconds, the SPG-62 missile illuminators on board the cruisers began directing the American missiles. These illuminators, four of which were on each ship, switched guidance controls from missile to missile, providing minute flight changes so that the missiles would know exactly where to fly in order to intercept the incoming targets.
Approximately ninety meters above the surface of the sea, thirty miles from Benthic Adventure and her escorts, the first SM-2s began to detonate around the incoming Chinese targets.
The first explosions occurred near two of the HY-2s, throwing them off target and then destroying them with shrapnel from the warheads. The remaining two HY-2 missiles were destroyed outright by the American SAMs targeted in their direction.
Three minutes after the launch of the Chinese HY-2 missiles, what was left of all four of them lay scattered on the surface of the sea, floating briefly before slipping beneath the waves.
* * *
On board Cheyenne, Mack had no idea how th
ings were progressing above the surface, and no chance to try and find out. Cheyenne outmanned, outgunned, and simply outperformed the two Romeos, but that didn’t mean he could afford to treat them lightly.
Mack ordered one Mk 48 targeted at each Romeo. With their antiquated Feniks sonar systems, he doubted that the Romeos would even detect the torpedoes before they had acquired. If one of them were to miss, however, he knew that Cheyenne would still be out of range of the Chinese weapons and could re-attack at will.
After establishing firing point procedures, the Mk 48 in tube one was launched at Master 83 and the one in tube two at Master 84. His officers and crew had recently had far too much practice at this, and performed their duties as flawlessly as ever.
The Mk 48s closed the gap and detonated beneath the unaware Romeos, sending both to the bottom, but Mack’s pride and pleasure in their performance was short-lived.
Cheyenne had just secured from battle stations and begun to head back to her escort position near Benthic Adventure when she received a sonar detection indicating that she had trouble.
“Conn, sonar. We just picked up two possible submarine contacts on the towed array.”
Five minutes later, the sonar supervisor had an updated report for Mack, who had gone to his place in the sonar room.
“Captain, I’m classifying the possible submarine contacts as one Akula II class SSN based on its tonals, and one Kilo class SSK based on his single 6-bladed screw. Both are headed in the direction of the Ticonderoga group. The Kilo just started running at three knots. The Akula’s bearing is remaining constant. Captain — I’m pretty sure that they heard us.”
Mack acknowledged the report. He was certain that the sonar supervisor was correct, and that the Chinese submarines had heard them. Launching two Mk 48s, both of which detonated at their intended targets, was bound to attract some attention.
