Honorable Enemies (1994)

by Joe Weber

  Takagi was confused by the fact that Bremerton had suffered a massive structural failure and his crew had not heard an explosion or picked up the sound of a torpedo or the screws from a ship. The only audible noises had been generated by the propeller from the American attack boat and the distant explosive sounds that reminded him of depth charges.

  Shigezo Takagi had never experienced the terror of having depth charges dropped on him, but he had not forgotten the recorded sounds of an actual attack that had been played over and over in submarine school.

  Shaken by the disastrous event, Takagi listened until the two sections of Bremerton impacted the bottom of the strait, then returned to the control room and talked with his second-incommand, Lieutenant Commander Oda Kanjiro.

  "Let's step into my stateroom," Takagi said under his breath and turned to go to his cabin. He didn't like to discuss important matters in front of his men.

  Kanjiro wordlessly followed the CO down the narrow passageway and into the tiny sleeping compartment that was Takagi's sanctuary.

  The CO quietly shut the door and leaned against the smooth bulkhead. He could always count on the man he was recommending to become the next Commanding Officer of Harushio. "Do you have an opinion, Oda?"

  "We didn't hear a direct hit," Kanjiro observed and shrugged one shoulder, "so they may have collided with another submarine. We heard scraping and crunching sounds, and two distinct masses hit the bottom, so there may have been two submarines involved in the accident."

  "That's possible," the skipper said at last, "but we didn't hear any other screws--not a single thing except the cluttered background noises from the distant ships."

  Kanjiro folded his bony arms and frowned. "Let's take things in order, if you don't mind."

  "Go ahead," Takagi said and closely studied the bright young officer.

  "I think something hit the American sub . . ." Kanjiro trailed off, then continued. "What hit it is the unknown factor."

  "Or," Takagi quickly interjected, "the American could have hit something they didn't hear, like a large submerged obstacle, another submarine, or a new type of quiet weapon we don't know anything about."

  As always,. Kanjiro nodded in deference to his CO. It was a habit he had learned early in his naval career. "Someone may have a torpedo similar to our new Sea Ferret."

  "It might be extremely large," Takagi began, considering the various possibilities, "superfast, and capable of piercing the skin--actually puncturing the double hull of a submarine."

  The frown returned to Kanjiro's face. "We don't know what happened, and we don't know if someone initiated an attack or if it was simply an accident."

  "That's true," Takagi conceded, reviewing his sailing orders and the fact that his commander had been adamant about being aggressive. He had told Takagi not to hesitate to attack if he felt uncomfortable. The sub skipper also thought about his ultimate responsibility to Japan and the oath he had taken as an officer.

  "Sir, I respectfully recommend," Kanjiro offered with measured confidence, "that we immediately close on the American fleet and prepare for battle."

  Shigezo Takagi listened to his trusted second-in-command while he silently considered using the Sea Ferrets. The state-of-the-art torpedoes didn't use a conventional propeller, relying instead on the use of magnetohydrodynamics to supply the propulsion for the stealthy weapon.

  Using the advanced technology of MHD, which is similar to a jet engine without a turbine, Sea Ferret had an open tube running the length of the torpedo. The long tube was surrounded by a ferro-liquid in a thin-sealed sleeve. A high-density, pulsing magnetic field produced tremendous sympathetic vibrations in the ferro-liquid.

  This action caused a traveling wave, which resulted in the seawater in the tube being pumped out the back of the weapon. Sea Ferret was literally pulled through the water at a speed of 33 knots without making any perceptible sound.

  "I'm in agreement that we should approach the Americans," Shigezo Takagi said and took in his friend's expression of delight. "Rig the ship for supersilent running and continue on our present course."

  Kanjiro showed a moment of hesitation before he mustered the courage to speak. "Sir, do you want to seek permission to attack before we get too close?"

  Takagi gave him a look that would freeze salt water. "I am my own authority."

  "Yes, sir," Kanjiro replied in his practiced show of cordial respectfulness. One did not question the Captain of a Japanese maritime vessel, especially Commander Shigezo Takagi.

  "Load and energize our two Sea Ferrets," Takagi ordered before Kanjiro could turn to leave, "and call the men to battle stations."

  "Yes, sir," Kanjiro replied with a determined look on his face.

  Alone in his darkened stateroom, Commander Shigezo Takagi sat in quiet meditation and experienced the heightened spiritual awareness and somatic calm of divine revelation. Like the other 10 million Japanese adherents of Zen Buddhism, the submarine commander thrived on experiencing the enlightenment and mental tranquillity that fostered spontaneity and fearlessness.

  The practice of Zen gave Takagi a feeling of breaking through the boundaries of ordinary everyday logical thought. The special edge of ecstatic contemplation carried Takagi beyond the limits of divine incomprehensibility into the world of revelation.

  He searched the depths of his mind, unraveling the unfathomable mysteries it contained. Revelation, as he had discovered over the years, transcended the categories of reason and rational thought.

  At last Takagi turned on the soft, red-filtered light over his small writing desk and reached into the drawer that contained his personal belongings. He retrieved a faded, yellowed picture and stared at the photograph of his parents and late grandparents. His grandparents had died from radiation sickness less than three weeks after their modest home in Hiroshima was destroyed by the first atomic bomb dropped on Japan.

  Using the single phone circuit to contact the submarine's control room, Takagi asked Oda Kanjiro to return to his stateroom.

  Seconds later the devoted officer gently tapped on the door and entered the cabin. "Yes, sir?"

  With total aplomb, Takagi looked up at Kanjiro. "My orders stipulate that I am free to use whatever measures necessary to protect Harushio in the event of a threat."

  Beaming with pleasure, Kanjiro nodded in agreement. "I understand, sir."

  "We are in a situation that I feel is extremely dangerous--the attack-sub incident and the unexplained explosions--so I have the responsibility to protect my crew."

  Kanjiro felt a sense of elation, but he was cautious. "If we attack the Americans, they'll saturate the strait with ASW coverage."

  Takagi worked his jaw muscles. "They will have a difficult time because of all the traffic. We will be okay."

  "I have no doubt, sir."

  "Set both torpedoes," Takagi calmly ordered, "to seek and destroy at a depth of ten-point-two meters. I'm going after their carrier."

  Kanjiro swallowed and felt the adrenaline pump through his veins. "Yes, sir," he answered exuberantly. "Seek and destroy at a depth of ten-point-two meters."

  From studying the displacements and dimensions of the American warships, the CO knew the depth of the vessel's keels below the waterline. The Kitty Hawk drew close to thirty-seven feet of water, while Chancellorsville and Cow-pens, the Aegis guided-missile cruisers, drew approximately thirty-one feet. Takagi would try to thread the needle and bag a U. S. carrier with the two stealth torpedoes he had been allocated.

  "Continue to close on the American task force, but don't go any closer than nine thousand meters," Takagi ordered and glanced at the navigation readout next to his bunk, "then prepare to go to periscope depth."

  Kanjiro gave him a nod. "Yes, sir."

  "Any questions?"

  "No, sir, no questions," Kanjiro said clearly and stepped out of the austere stateroom.

  Shigezo Takagi stared at the picture of his parents and grandparents for a few minutes, then turned out his light and rolled i
nto the built-in berth. He rehearsed the attack in his mind. The first order of business is to launch the torpedoes, then we'll quietly sail for the sanctity of the South China Sea. No one will know that we've been here, and I will have fulfilled my command responsibility in a high-threat environment.

  A few minutes later, the skipper turned on his side and dozed peacefully.

  Chapter 35.

  TOKYO INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, NARITA, JAPAN

  Prime Minister Genshiro Koyama stormed out of the sleek Aerospatiale helicopter and marched straight for the Boeing 747-400 VIP transport. Followed by his personal retinue and eight security specialists, Koyama ignored the crowd of well-wishers and journalists as he hurriedly boarded the lustrous jumbo jet.

  The powerful turbine engines were spinning to life when Koyama entered the conference area where Foreign Minister Nagumo Katsumoto calmly waited along with one of Koyama's aides. He smiled and shifted in his chair in order to ease the pain in his curved spine.

  "How could this possibly happen?" Koyama exclaimed in his raspy voice as he tossed his coat across the end of the table. "How could anyone--especially the commander of an Aegis destroyer--be so stupid?"

  The courteous and restrained expert on foreign affairs remained quiet, allowing the agitated Prime Minister to vent his anger and frustration while his aide placed Koyama's coat in the closet.

  "Japan is in the middle of an inherently unstable strategic position," Koyama said bitterly, "and an idiot shoots a missile at an American carrier." His taut neck muscles and darkened features reflected his rage. "He will never again step foot on a Japanese military ship."

  Katsumoto was aware that Defense Minister Yutaka Isida had relieved the commanding officer of Hayasa of his duties and ordered an investigation into the tragic accident. The former commander of the destroyer and his tactical action officer were being flown to Tokyo for interrogation. The Hayasa's ex-commanding officer would be fortunate if the powers in Tokyo merely threw him out of the military.

  Koyama and Katsumoto felt the specially configured government 747 begin to roll as it taxied toward the duty runway. All air traffic bound for Tokyo International would be vectored to distant holding patterns or held in place on the ground until the Prime Minister was safely airborne and out of the local flying area.

  Koyama leaned over and stared out the window at the scores of onlookers and media representatives before turning to the Foreign Minister. "The ship--the carrier--is still on fire and the loss of life is staggering."

  "It was an accident," Katsumoto responded in his low-key manner. "The Americans must know that. I'm sure they've thought about some of their own embarrassing incidents. They've had their share of blunders over the years."

  Koyama was not about to be appeased by the unflappable Foreign Minister. "The newspapers and magazines are full of headlines about the global fears and deep suspicions about our military reinventing itself, and--and"--he sputtered in his grating voice--"and then one of our finest Aegis commanders shoots a missile at an American aircraft carrier--and reminds the world of Japan's violent past."

  "He didn't do it on purpose," Katsumoto said in his calm, measured style.

  "What difference does it make?" Koyama barked. "The end result makes us look incompetent."

  "It makes us look human. Everyone makes mistakes from time to time, and this was obviously a mistake--a bad one, but still a human error."

  "The timing," Koyama hissed, "could not have been worse in light of the current events."

  Katsumoto sipped his warm tea and waited for an opportunity to speak calmly with Koyama. "We have offered our deepest apologies to the Americans, and we must trust that responsible people will understand the circumstances."

  "I don't think you clearly understand the situation," Koyama suddenly blurted, which prompted the aide to discreetly step out of the soundproof meeting room. "We've got an arms race going on--a major arms race--that is rapidly gaining momentum throughout Asia."

  Nagumo Katsumoto didn't respond to the cutting remark. When he was a young man attending Tokyo University, he had taught himself the self-discipline not to be lured into fruitless arguments with upset or inebriated people.

  The Prime Minister cast a glance out the window. "The instability is becoming more obvious by the day, and I'm deeply concerned about the security of our military forces.

  "And all of this," Koyama boldly went on, "at a time when Japan is in a downward spiral into slower business growth and constant restructuring.

  "We can eventually correct our business deficiencies," the Prime Minister said cryptically, "but our most important concern at the moment is how our Asian neighbors view our military image while the U. S. continues to shrink its forces in the region."

  "I'm quite aware of the problems our country faces," Katsumoto said evenly, "and we must understand and deal with the fact that emotions and feelings of insecurity are always stirred when the balance of power swings from one side of the pendulum to the other."

  With a disgusted look, Koyama pushed himself back in his thickly padded chair. "The cycle of mistrust and open animosity between the U. S. and Japan, along with the fears of our Asian neighbors, are forcing us to repeat the same things we had to do in the first half of the century."

  Katsumoto sighed and leaned back to ease the discomfort in his lower back. "It isn't 'us' or 'we.' "

  "You can't change the inevitable," Koyama snapped and lighted a cigarette. "Despite years of lying to each other, nothing has changed the fundamental feelings between the Japanese and the American people. If we had mutual trust, no one would worry about the size of our military forces."

  The Foreign Minister let his head rest on the back of his chair and serenely closed his eyes. "The majority of Japanese know they're superior to anyone else on this planet--especially to the Americans--and most Americans believe they're superior to anyone who doesn't have their collective power and money. So the hostility goes on because we can't blend as basic human beings."

  "Don't count Japan out," the Prime Minister said contemptuously as the airplane began its takeoff roll.

  BENEATH THE STRAIT OF MALACCA

  Commander Shigezo Takagi was startled awake when Oda Kanjiro gently touched his shoulder. The skipper groaned and rolled over, then switched on the dull red light and swung his legs over the side of the bunk.

  "We are in position at nine thousand meters, sir," Kanjiro reported in a hushed voice. "Both torpedoes are active and sonar holds no close contacts."

  "That is a good omen," Takagi said excitedly and quickly slipped his feet into the soft, padded sock-shoes the crew wore while on patrol. "Take us to periscope depth and lock in a solution on the carrier."

  "Yes sir," Kanjiro responded quietly and turned toward the crowded control room.

  A contact's course, range, and speed were calculated to determine the target's bearing rate--the "solution" for the torpedo shot.

  Takagi sat still for a last moment of contemplation. His mind was clear and he felt comfortable with the pleasure he would derive from his inner calling. He looked forward to avenging his grandparents and the atrocious way the Americans had killed them.

  Shigezo Takagi felt a visceral impulse toward the course of action he had set in motion, and the driving force was accompanied by a strong conviction of divine influence. Harushio was in harm's way and it was his responsibility to protect her and his crew.

  The CO patiently waited until the depth readout next to his navigational data window indicated that Harushio was stabilized at periscope depth, then he calmly rose from his bed and walked to the control room.

  All eyes turned to Takagi when he stepped through the hatch and approached the periscope.

  "Sir," Kanjiro whispered, "we have a solution on a ship, but we don't think it's the carrier. The signature is different and sonar hasn't been able to locate the carrier."

  "Keep trying."

  Kanjiro obediently nodded and toggled the switch to raise the periscope before he glance
d at the array of lights on the status board. "We are making two knots, outer torpedo doors are open, tubes one and two are flooded, and the fire-control system is up and ready."

  "Excellent," Takagi replied as he grabbed the handgrips and quickly rotated the periscope 360 degrees, then reversed his crablike shuffle to take in the flotilla of American ships. "We're clear--no surface threats."

  He was astonished to see Kitty Hawk burning while her escort ships were assisting with the firefighting efforts. Takagi was elated and felt a sudden sense of relief when he recognized where the strange explosions had originated.

  "The carrier is dead in the water," he whispered to Kanjiro.

  "It's on fire. That's why we can't get a signature--the screws aren't turning. There's only one ship moving, and it's a guided-missile cruiser."

  The executive officer pursed his lips and smiled. "The sounds--the explosions we've been hearing--must have come from the carrier."

  Takagi acknowledged his exec and stared at the blazing aircraft carrier. He was confident the Sea Ferrets would be enough to sink the beleaguered ship. The conventional 2,800-pound shaped charge explosive in each weapon was enough to blast a gaping hole in the hull of the carrier.

  Harushio's CO felt a tingling sensation shoot through his chest. "This is a perfect opportunity. They'll most likely think a fire-related explosion sank the carrier."

  Takagi tilted his head and looked at the glowing lights on the status board. The gyroscope, sonar transducer, and computer system in each torpedo was on line. The weapons were "hot" and ready for immediate use as soon as the final launch-code was punched into the complex fire-control system. The fire-control computer was constantly providing a solution to Chancellorsville, the guided-missile cruiser that was maneuvering around the burning carrier.

  "The contact is turning." Takagi paused and waited to see what the Aegis cruiser would do next. "He's circling the carrier like a mother hen."