Red Ice

by William Dietz

  So Hollis was in a jam. He couldn’t pass west of Big Diomede because of the heavily defended first span that connected Big D to the Russian mainland. And if ever there was a place where the enemy was likely to put sonobuoys that was it.

  And Hollis didn’t want to swing east around Little Diomede because of the shallow water there, not to mention the additional time involved. Every minute was precious. He cleared his throat. “I’m going to take the chance. Since the Russians are still putting the final touches on the span between Big D and Little D they’re unlikely to have sonobuoys in place yet. Rig for silent running, and pass the word for all hands to man their battle stations.”

  Ochi acknowledged the order and went to work. The boat’s department heads knew what to do. Crew members were to refrain from making unnecessary sounds, the submarine’s speed would be reduced to minimize propeller noise, and the reactor’s active cooling system would be off. That meant the sub would have to rely on water convection to cool the nuclear power plant. But, if sonobuoys had been placed in the passageway, perhaps the Hawaii would be able to slip past unnoticed .

  Once the preparations were complete there was nothing left for Hollis to do other than look cool, sip coffee, and wait to learn his fate. And looking cool was of paramount importance. Prior to commanding a submarine Hollis had been a member of the crew, of many crews, and knew how it worked. The skipper was in charge, so the people who worked for him or her were highly attuned to the CO’s non-verbal communications, and quick to notice subtle changes. And if someone said, “Did you see the captain? He looks pissy today.” That perception would race from one end of the sub to the other in a matter of minutes causing morale to suffer.

  So Hollis had to look cool. Even if his guts were tied in a knot. He knew the destroyers were opening the lead they already had. That made it tempting to order full speed ahead and take the chance. But that would be stupid. And, as his father liked to say, “Avoid being stupid. That will make you smart.”

  So Hollis stood there, shooting the shit with the control room crew, as the boat slipped through the water. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity Gregory cleared his throat. “We’re entering the passage skipper … So far so good.”

  But no sooner had the Gator spoken, than a sonar tech named Williams delivered the bad news. His voice was tense. “We have company Skipper … The sounds match the file for Akula Class attack boats.”

  The Weapons Officer, better known as Weps, was named Alan Kirk. He was husky, balding, and known for his ability to chug-a-lug a full pitcher of beer without taking a breath. “We’re working on a firing solution, sir.”

  Hollis felt his heart beat faster. An enemy sub had been sent to guard the passageway between Big D and Little D! Akula Class boats and Virginia Class subs had a great deal in common. The Akulas carried cruise missiles, and so did the American boats.

  But there were differences too. Important differences where underwater fights were concerned. The Akulas had four 533mm torpedo tubes, plus an equal number of 650mm tubes. That added up to eight tubes in all. While the Hawaii had four 533mm torpedo tubes. And that was a serious disparity.

  Moreover Hollis knew the Akula could dive deeper than the Hawaii could—although that wouldn’t mean much in such shallow water. And the Russian boat was faster too, which would suck in a chase.

  But there wasn’t going to be a chase. Fifteen seconds had passed without a response from the enemy submarine. They don’t know we’re here , Hollis concluded, and the reason for that was obvious. Thanks to specially designed anechoic coatings and a new propulsor design, Virginia Class submarines had an acoustic signature lower than the Akulas’ . But that precious advantage would vanish in a heartbeat if someone dropped a wrench onto the Hawaii’s steel plating. Hollis pitched his voice low. “This is not a drill. Prepare to fire tubes 1 and 3.”

  “Tubes 1 and 3 are ready, sir,” Kirk said.

  Hollis took a deep breath. “Fire 1! Fire 3!”

  The Hawaii was armed with MK-48 torpedoes. Unlike the straight running torpedoes of WWII, the MK-48s were equipped with sonar, and some artificial intelligence. That meant they could ping, analyze the returns, and make whatever adjustments were necessary.

  And, if an enemy sub chose to deploy decoys, the MK-48s could differentiate between the false targets and home on the real one. The 48s were also trailing wires that the Hawaii’s crew could use to steer the weapons. But in order to do that, they’d have to leave the bow mounted tubes open to the sea, and that would create turbulence which equaled noise. Hollis ordered Kirk to cut the wires.

  “They made us,” Williams warned. “Their screw is turning at high rpms, and it sounds like they’re dumping decoys.”

  “Take evasive action,” Hollis ordered .

  Williams spoke again. “They fired what sounds like four torps, sir. About 2,000 yards and closing fast.”

  “Eject countermeasures,” Hollis ordered. Hopefully the ECM pods would draw the enemy torpedoes away. Hollis forced himself to think ahead. The Russian sub was equipped with eight tubes. That meant the enemy skipper still had four weapons available to him, while Hollis was left with two. Both submarines could attempt to reload, but it was a time consuming process, and unlikely to be completed in time to make a difference.

  A pair of thumps were heard. The Hawaii shuddered as a pressure wave hit the hull. “It sounds like our torps struck decoys,” Williams announced.

  Hollis felt a jab of fear. He had two torpedoes left. And if they missed the mark, his only option would be to outrun a boat he couldn’t outrun. “We’re going to close with the bastard,” Hollis announced grimly. “Ahead, flank, cavitate.” (Give me all the speed you can, and to hell with the noise.) “Prepare to fire tubes 2 and 4.”

  The power increased quickly, and as the Hawaii surged forward, the distance between the subs continued to close. “Two fish incoming,” Williams intoned.

  “Eject countermeasures,” Hollis said.

  “We’re closing fast,” Gregory warned.

  “Fire 2,” Hollis ordered, “and fire 4.”

  “They’re running straight and normal,” Weps announced.

  “Don’t cut the wires,” Hollis added. “Stay with them … Steer them all the way in.”

  Hollis heard two fire control (FT) techs confirm his order—and had no choice but to put his faith in them. “Shit!” one of the sailors said, as the enemy sub took a sharp turn, and his torp sailed past.

  “Stay with it Conway,” Kirk ordered, as the second FT continued to guide his torpedo to the target. “Put it to those bastards! ”

  Conway didn’t answer. A sweaty sheen covered his forehead, and his eyes were glued to the screen in front of him. Then came a thump that was considerably louder than those heard earlier, and a pressure wave hammered the sub. Hollis had to hang on, or be thrown to the deck. “A kill!” Ochi shouted. “You did it Conway … You goddamn did it!”

  A cheer went up, and Hollis grinned. “Belay the bullshit people, we have a couple of destroyers to catch up with. “Take her up,” Hollis added, “Let’s see if there’s anything new from PACOM.”

  Once the Hawaii arrived at the proper depth, the masts were raised, and Hollis eyed the photonics screen. The first thing he noticed were the pieces of debris that were bobbing up and down in the water. Video of the scene would become part of his report.

  Hollis used the remote to conduct a 360-degree sweep of the sub’s surroundings. He saw the humped shape of Big Diomede, the low lying bridge, and Little Diomede beyond. There were work boats in the area. Some were headed his way, but none represented a threat. “Evans pulled this down,” Ochi said, as she gave Hollis a slip of paper. He read it. “ONE UDALOY CLASS DESTROYER SUNK BY AIRCRAFT AND ONE UNDER TOW. INTERCEPT AND SINK.” The words were followed by a position and a heading.

  Gregory had been the first person other than Evans to see the message. “I crunched the numbers,” he said, “and it looks as if the destroyer is being towed to Lavrentiya. The
Russians have a new base there.”

  Hollis felt a rising sense of excitement. “Can we catch up?”

  “It’ll be close,” Gregory replied, “but there’s a chance.”

  Hollis could imagine what had transpired. American planes had been dispatched to attack the tin cans just as the Hawaii had. But, after sinking one ship, the zoomies had been driven off. By Russian aircraft? Quite possibly .

  If so, it seemed safe to suppose that the enemy planes were still on the job. But they couldn’t see the Hawaii. And, depending on the degree of damage the destroyer had suffered, there was a possibility that the tin can wouldn’t be able to “hear” the sub.

  Or that the attack boat would manage to close in even if the enemy’s sonar was operational. “Take her down,” Hollis ordered. “Set a course for Lavrentiya, and put the pedal to the metal. I want those bastards.”

  The Hawaii could do 28mph underwater. And there was no way to know what kind of speed the Russian tug was capable of with a large ship under tow. Gregory had chosen to plug 10mph into his calculations. If that was correct the sub would catch up with the destroyer in an hour and fifteen minutes. But, if the tug was faster than projected, the warship could be safely anchored within Lavrentiya’s harbor by the time the Hawaii arrived offshore.

  Whatever would be, would be. That’s what Hollis told himself as he challenged the Chief of the Boat to a nerf basketball game. Look cool , Hollis thought, look cool. Meanwhile, up forward, a full set of fish were being loaded into the Hawaii’s tubes.

  Hollis lost the game, much to the enjoyment of the control room crew, and the minutes continued to drag by. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, they hit the one-hour mark. Hollis felt a sinking sensation. Now it appeared that the tug had been towing the destroyer at something like 15mph . And the bastards were sitting around drinking vodka. Williams spoke. “I have something, sir … It doesn’t match anything in our files. But it would make sense if I’m hearing two signatures mixed together.”

  Hollis felt the first stirrings of hope. According to what they had on file Udaloy class destroyers were equipped with four gas turbines, and two propeller shafts. What if one shaft was offline—and one was turning? But doing so at low rpms? That sound, superimposed over the noise produced by the tug, might generate the sort of sonic mishmash Williams had described. “The signal’s getting stronger,” the sonar operator reported. “We’re catching up.”

  “Take her up to photonics depth,” Hollis ordered. “Let’s see what we have.”

  The sub rose, the photonics mast broke the surface of the water, and Hollis felt an unexpected tightness in his chest. He was looking at the destroyer from an angle. He could see the ship and the tug laboring beyond. Both vessels were headed for Zaliv Bay, and the town of Lavrentiya. “The bottom’s rising,” the pilot warned. “We’re at one-five-six.”

  That depth was sufficient for the moment. “Keep me advised,” Hollis replied. “Prepare to fire all four tubes.”

  But, as the Hawaii continued to close with the destroyer, an idea occurred to Hollis. He had a thing for submarine movies. Run Silent, Run Deep, The Hunt For Red October and Das Boot. He enjoyed them all, including a comedy, in which a sub sneaks into a harbor by hiding under an incoming merchant vessel. Was that crazy? Or could such a strategy work?

  If it did, the Hawaii would be able to target the Russian destroyer. “Ignore my last order,” Hollis said, “but be ready with the tubes. Take her down to a hundred. Is the destroyer pinging?”

  “No sir,” Williams replied. “But they could be passive.”

  Hollis figured they were. But the enemy sonar operators would hear the same cacophony of sounds that Williams had described. And the Hawaii was very quiet. “Take us in under that tin can,” Hollis ordered. “And keep us there.”

  The pilot looked back over his shoulder. “For real, Skipper? It isn’t very deep.”

  “I realize that,” Hollis answered. “So tuck the bow in under the ship, with the sail just under the surface. Williams, monitor those rpms. If they drop we’ll need to cut speed or we’ll run into the destroyer’s ass. ”

  The pilot turned back to his controls. It wasn’t long before the sub entered the turbulence created by the destroyer’s hull and single screw. The hull began to shake violently. Loose items rattled. An alarm started to beep. Someone turned it off.

  Hollis turned to Kirk. “Do me a favor, Weps … Pull the targeting data for the Anadyr naval base.” Anadyr was 350 miles away, which put it well within a Tomahawk missile’s one-thousand mile range.

  Kirk’s eyes widened. “Holy shit! Let me see if I understand … We’re going to sneak into an enemy harbor, torpedo a tin can, and fire Tomahawks at Anadyr!”

  The Hawaii stopped rattling. Hollis turned to the pilot. “How are we doing?”

  “We’re directly below her, sir,” the petty officer replied. “In the sweet spot.”

  “Williams? How’s it going?”

  “So far, so good skipper.”

  “The targeting solution is loaded, sir,” Kirk assured him. “We’re ready when you are.”

  Hollis nodded. “We’ll fire the torpedoes first, followed by the missiles. All of them. Then we’ll run like hell. The Russians won’t be able to respond without running the risk of targeting their own assets. As for PACOM, what are they going to do? Send me to the artic?”

  Kirk laughed. “This will make for one helluva sea story.”

  Ochi nodded. “No one will believe it.”

  Hollis could hear the blood pounding in his head. His hands were trembling so he took hold of a chair to hide it. “I think we’re in the bay,” Williams said. “The destroyer cut power—and I’m picking up other signatures. Small craft probably, coming out to assist the destroyer.”

  “Back us out from under the destroyer, pilot,” Hollis ordered. “I’ll be filling out paperwork for years if the Russians drop an anchor on us. Once we’re clear take her up to photonics depth.”

  Hollis turned to Kirk. “Pass the word … Prepare to fire tubes 1 and 3, followed by the Tomahawks.”

  Kirk repeated the order followed by an “Aye, aye, sir.”

  Hollis stood waiting in front of the screen as the photonics package broke the surface. He could see the town of Lavrentiya. Cranes were visible to the left, with buildings in the middle of the screen, and docks to the right. Most of the one, two, and three story structures were painted bright colors as if to make the town more cheerful during the long artic winters.

  As Hollis panned to his right he saw that some sizeable fishing boats were anchored in the bay. Targeting data appeared for each. But the vessels were too small to justify a nine- hundred-thousand dollar torpedo.

  Hollis continued the turn and there she was! Gray smoke dribbled out of a black-edged hole in the destroyer’s hull, and she sat low in the water, as boats swarmed around her. It seemed that none of Lavrentiya’s docks could accommodate such a large ship. So the Russians were hoisting pumps on board in a desperate attempt to keep the tin can afloat.

  It was tempting to take the shot. But Hollis forced himself to continue the sweep. There was nothing to see but empty water at first. Then a white-over-red cargo ship slid onto the screen! Hollis recognized the vessel as an SA-15 class multipurpose icebreaker. She was about 500 feet long, and equipped with three cranes, all located forward of the ship’s superstructure. The freighter was off-loading cargo onto a barge that was moored alongside. “Check this Weps,” Hollis said. “We’ll sink her first. But, unless we’re careful, our torpedoes will hit the barge. Make sure they’re set to pass under it.”

  “Aye, aye, sir,” Kirk said, before passing the word to his techs. Then, about thirty seconds later, he was ready. “Tubes 1 and 3 are ready to fire. ”

  Hollis turned to the pilot. “Standby … Once the fish are running, I want you to turn back toward the destroyer.” Then, without waiting for a response, Hollis gave the orders. “Fire 1, and fire 3.”

  “Both torpedoe
s are running straight and normal,” Kirk assured him.

  Hollis forced himself to focus on the next target … And that was the destroyer. Even as the pilot turned the boat toward the Russian warship, Kirk and his techs were targeting it. There was no need to point the torpedoes directly at the ship. “Tubes 2 and 4 are ready to fire Captain.”

  “Fire 2,” Hollis said. “Fire 4.”

  “Torpedoes away,” Kick confirmed. “Both are running straight and normal.”

  “Prepare to fire Tomahawks in sequence,” Hollis said. “Fire!”

  Hollis couldn’t see the launches first hand, but he could imagine the way the missiles would explode up through the surface of the bay, turn, and head for the naval base in Anadyr. Each weapon would be traveling at 550mph, and their turbofan engines would be audible for miles around. Everyone, military personnel included, would ask themselves the same question: “What the hell is going on?”

  Hollis heard some dull thumps. “Two hits on the freighter,” Kirk said. “I think …”

  Kirk never got to finish his sentence. A louder thump was heard, and a pressure wave rocked the sub. Mugs clattered and a pencil rolled onto the deck. “She blew!” Kirk exclaimed.

  “I’ll bet she was loaded with ammo,” Ochi added.

  “Only one hit on the destroyer,” Kirk added, as another thump was heard.

  Hollis could tell that the weapons officer was disappointed. But, as Hollis stared at the screen, he could see that the single torpedo had been sufficient. A gun turret rode a column of flame up into the air and seemed to pause there before crashing down.

  The internal fire continued to burn as the destroyer settled deeper in the water. Fortunately for the crew small boats were there to take them off. It wasn’t long before waves sloshed over the warship’s main deck. Some of them found the interior and produced clouds of steam.

  Hollis wanted to get the Hawaii out of the harbor as quickly as possible, but forced himself to wait, so he could capture the scene on video. Otherwise Hollis would be forced to use the words, “presumably sunk” in his report … And that would suck.