by Larry Bond
USS Seawolf
ETC Hudson had expected to find his department head fast asleep. He didn’t monitor Lieutenant Mitchell’s every move, but by his reckoning, the young officer was running about half empty, and that will catch up with a body after a while. Nobody wanted a cranky lieutenant.
But Mr. Mitchell was up and half buried in paperwork. The door was open, but Hudson still rapped politely on the doorframe. Jerry looked up and smiled. “Chief, excellent, come in. Here are the draft E-6 evaluations you gave me last week. I’ve made some changes. ”
Hudson glanced at the forms, marked with a red pen, then reported. “They’re preparing to recover LaVerne, sir.”
Jerry sighed and pushed himself back from the desk. “So soon?”
“They’ve already deployed the recovery arm.”
“Thanks, Chief, I’ll be along. ”
Suddenly the BONG, BONG, BONG of the general alarm filled the passageway, and both men dashed for the control room. The captain had promised that once UUV operations started, there would be no drills. Something was very wrong.
* * *
Jerry held in his questions as he hurried over to the plotting table by the fire-control consoles. He listened as Will Hayes quickly turned the deck over to Stan Lavoie, the General Quarters OOD. “New sonar contact, Sierra three zero, is on our port quarter, bearing one six five. The computer says it’s a submerged contact, close by at slow speed, with a zero bearing rate. Tracking party’s still getting set up, so they can’t confirm.”
Then Captain Rudel showed up and Hayes had to repeat himself. He’d barely finished when Rudel asked, “And the UUV?”
Hayes shook his head. “Still approaching the basket. About five hundred yards to port. ”
Hayes’s report was cut short when the WLR-9 acoustic intercept receiver started wailing.
“Conn, sonar, Mouse Squeak transmissions in the direction of Sierra three zero. Bearing one six five.”
Rudel quickly looked at the WLR-9 display and saw that the transmission frequency and pulse type matched the collision-avoidance/mine-hunting sonar on Russian submarines. “Mr. Mitchell, get the arm back inside, and send the UUV away.”
Jerry acknowledged the order and checked the chart. There was a likely spot over deep water a few miles from here, and it was already programmed..
“Conn, sonar! Sierra three zero is increasing speed!” There was concern in the sonar supervisor’s voice. A few seconds later, the intercom announced, “Sierra three zero is cavitating! Near zero bearing rate!” The last word was almost shouted over the intercom. Jerry recognized ST1 Stapp’s voice. He wasn’t easily rattled.
“Captain, recovery arm is stowed and the outer door is shut on tube two,” reported Shimko as he took his battle-stations position by the fire-control consoles.
“Very well, XO. I want a TMA solution on Sierra three zero immediately. Engineer, get us moving.”
Both men responded with, “Aye, aye, sir.”
“Conn, sonar. Sierra three zero’s speed is thirty-plus knots. Blade rate does not match any known Russian submarine.”
Rudel and Shimko looked at each other, both confused by the sonar supervisor’s report. Rudel reached up to the intercom. “Sonar, conn. Please confirm your last.”
“Conn, sonar. Sierra three zero’s acoustic signature does not match any, repeat any, known Russian submarine.”
“Who the hell are we dealing with?” asked Shimko.
“We’ll worry about that later, XO. For now, let’s concern ourselves with getting out of here.”
“Yessir!” Shimko replied enthusiastically. Then ten seconds later, “Captain, WAA range is… is seven hundred yards and closing!”
“Conn, sonar. Sierra three zero is closing rapidly. Bearing rate is slightly to the left.”
“He’s passing down our port side!” exclaimed Shimko.
“Helm, hard right rudder!” shouted Rudel.
“Captain has the conn,” announced Lavoie. While this statement would appear trivial to an outside observer, particularly given the circumstance, its importance was crucial. From this point on, until Rudel decided otherwise, he was giving the conning orders and everyone in control needed to know this.
A moment later Jerry heard the noise himself, right though the hull. It started as a soft rush, like a ventilation fan in high speed, but a few seconds later it was a solid rumble, and then a loud swishing that could be felt as well as heard.
A few more seconds and the sound was past them. Just as it started to fade Jerry felt a vibration in the deck and then the whole boat was rocked first to starboard and then to port. Jerry had been leaning against the chart table and had reflexively grabbed at it. The watch stared at each other, wide-eyed.
Severodvinsk
“Sonar officer reports closest point of approach was four hundred meters,” said Kalinin.
“That will make them think twice!” laughed Petrov. “Make turns for ten knots. Shubin, do you still see their remote vehicle?”
“Yes, sir. Bearing red zero six five, range seventy-four meters, speed about three knots. It’s still heading toward the American sub.” Shubin was tracking the American UUV with Severodvinsk’s MG-519M mine-hunting sonar. It was no good as a general search set, but its high-resolution range and bearing data made it perfect for finding small objects nearby. “Recommend slow turn to port, or it will pass into our blind spot aft.”
“Agreed. Helm, left standard rudder, reverse our course, steady one five five. Starpom, don’t lose that thing’s position. If we’ve cut its tether, it should slow down and stop now. With luck, it will sink to the bottom, and we can mark the spot. What’s the American sub doing?”
“Passive sonar’s still limited from our high-speed pass, sir, but he was just starting to turn to starboard as we went by”
The American was being slow to react. After surprising him so completely, Petrov had expected a more violent reaction.
The high-frequency active sonar display showed two objects: the larger American sub, and a much smaller blip, no larger than a torpedo. The U.S. boat had been stationary, hovering, and it was obvious they were up to something that involved a remotely operated vehicle. Planting something? Recovering something? Whatever they were doing, it was not in Russia’s interests.
The obvious move was to break the tether on their ROV. The Americans would be forced to abandon it, and Severodvinsk would guard the device until it was salvaged. The U.S. would not be able to deny the physical evidence, and the clues it provided would tell what the Americans had been up to.
“Sonar, report.” Petrov was impatient. He’d made his move and was waiting for the Americans to react. Part of his impatience was because they had no good moves to make. This was his field, his game.
Mitrov responded, but he sounded puzzled. “The American sub is moving away slowly. Last good bearing before he went into our baffles was green one four five. The remote has turned sharply and is now heading away from the U.S. sub at a higher speed.”
“Toward us?” Petrov’s question held concern. It could still be a weapon.
“No sir, it’s going northwest at about five knots.”
“Then it’s still under control,” Petrov remarked, thinking aloud. “Apparently, we missed the tether.”
By now, Severodvinsk had reversed course and was heading to the rear of the slow-moving U.S. submarine. “Position us for another pass, closer to the American. Closer this time.”
USS Seawolf
“All hands, this is the Captain.” Rudel’s voice was calm. “We are not under attack. Nothing has collided with us. A Russian attack boat just made a fast, close-aboard pass down our port side. They’re not happy about us being here. He seems upset, so we are not going to do anything to provoke him.”
Rudel put the microphone down and asked Jerry, “Is the UUV heading away from us?”
Jerry nodded. “Just finished sending the instructions, sir. LaVerne’s been ordered to loiter at point Romeo One, about t
en miles from here.”
“And the quickest course away from the Russian coast?”
Jerry didn’t have to look at the chart. “Toward Romeo One, recommend three zero zero.”
“Very well. Make turns for five knots, right fifteen degrees rudder, come to course three zero zero.” That would take them through almost three-quarters of a full circle, but the quicker turn to the left would take Seawolf directly in front of their maneuvering adversary.
“Conn, sonar. Sierra three zero has zigged. Looks like he’s turning. His blade rate is also increasing again. Rapidly.”
“Sonar, conn, aye. Any classification yet? Who is he?”
“Hard to tell, sir.” Stapp’s voice was apologetic. “It’s a first-line attack boat given its speed, but it doesn’t match anything in the database. She’s very quiet, though. I’ve had somebody reviewing the recordings when she was on top.. ”
Then Stapp interrupted his report. “Blade rate’s still increasing, and the bearing drift’s changed from left to right. I think he’s going to make another run.”
“Helm, increase your rudder, right full. Get us some more separation to starboard.”
“Increase my rudder to right full, helm aye.”
“Should we use our HF sonar? There’s no point in staying covert,” said Lavoie.
Jerry thought that sounded like a good idea. It would be nice to have a better idea of where the Russian was.
Rudel paused before answering Lavoie, but shook his head. “No. I don’t know how he’d react to it. He might interpret it as a prelude to hostile action. Some Russians like to use HF sonars for fire-control ranging.” The captain spoke quickly, and Lavoie nodded his understanding as they watched the command displays and tried to fathom the Russian’s intention.
“Conn, sonar. Sierra three zero is closing, zero bearing rate, signal strength all increasing. I’m starting to get separate bearings on different parts of the boat!” Jerry felt a lump of ice forming in his chest. The Russian was closer this time.
Rudel looked over toward the BCP and yelled, “Chief of the Watch, sound collision. All hands brace for impact.” As the collision alarm screeched, Jerry imagined men in spaces throughout the sub, with little idea of what was happening, being told to brace. Expecting what? A crushing blow, icy water, and a sudden death?
“Eventually we’ll have to break contact and sort out how he found us, but right now my only goal is to not make a bad situation worse.”
The Russian sub thundered by again, closer. This time the sound was stronger, more intense. Jerry could distinguish the beating of the sub’s propeller blades.
As it reached a peak, another sound, an even louder solid bang, resonated in the control room. It stopped, then came again, and again, in fast rhythmic pulses. The Russian had turned on his main active sonar and focused its energy into a tight narrow beam, pointed straight at Seawolf.
A nuclear sub’s main active sonar could send out a sound pulse that could be heard hundreds of miles away. It would kill a diver nearby. Almost in pain, Jerry tried to cover his ears, but by the time he could react, the Russian was gone, and welcome quiet returned.
Then Seawolf, all nine thousand two hundred tons, tilted to the right, pushed aside by the wake of the harassing Russian sub. Jerry was glad for the captain’s warning, but he’d lost his grip raising his hands. He almost fell, and several in control did stumble.
Shaken, Jerry saw his face mirrored in the rest of the watch, pale and wide-eyed, some picking themselves up.
Lavoie, compelled to state the obvious, said, “That was too close.”
“Conn, sonar. Sierra three zero is not, repeat not, transmitting known Shark Gill waveforms.” Shark Gill was the NATO nickname for the SKAT family of sonars on all current Russian nuclear-powered attack submarines.
Jerry watched Captain Rudel, waiting for a reaction, or new orders, but the captain was as pale as the rest. Jerry watched him scan the displays, even glancing toward the plotting table. He was a man in desperate need of information. What boat was this? What did the Russian captain want? Would his next pass be even closer?
“Skipper, who are we dealing with?” asked Shimko, clearly shaken as well.
Rudel initially looked just as confused as the others; then abruptly, his demeanor changed as an idea popped into his head.
“Navigator, check the intel traffic and see if a Russian boat has left Sayda Guba in the last few days.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” replied Jerry, still puzzled.
“You’ve got that look, sir,” quipped Shimko.
“I have a theory, XO. Nothing more.”
“Would you mind sharing this theory with the rest of us ignorant peasants?”
“I think it’s Severodvinsk, Marcus.”
Shimko took his captain’s theory and compared it to the available data. A nuclear-powered attack submarine with an unknown acoustic signature and unknown active sonar in the Northern Fleet led to but one conclusion—Severodvinsk.
“Ooh shit.”
“Yeah, that’s about it,” said Rudel. “Hopefully, Jerry will be able to confirm it once he gets done searching the message traffic.”
Lieutenant Commander Lavoie was searching as well. “Whoever he is, he’s real unhappy we’re here. Maybe he’s trying to drive us away.”
Rudel nodded, still thinking, but answering, “It’s a possibility. Maybe we aren’t moving fast enough for him. But then why block our path out?”
Lavoie continued. “If he’d wanted to hit us, he could have. He isn’t that crazy”
“I sure as hell think he’s nucking futs to get as close as he has,” remarked Shimko.
“Concur, XO. He’s crazy enough for me as well. Helm, all ahead two-thirds, steady on three zero zero.”
Severodvinsk
“What about the remote vehicle?” Petrov’s attention was almost entirely fixed on its progress. He’d let Kalinin take Severodvinsk in a right turn this time, paralleling the American’s turn on the outside.
He might have been unconsciously acknowledging the starpom’s concern. The last pass had been only two hundred meters to port of the American, at an unbelievable thirty-three knots. Even their mine-hunting sonar had been blind at that speed.
Mitrov answered, “It’s still heading northwest at a steady speed. And we’ve identified the sub’s class. It’s an American Seawolf-class.” Petrov barely acknowledged the report.
“Even if the tether’s cut, it may have an inertial guidance and its own power supply. Assuming it’s a tethered vehicle to begin with.” Kalinin’s suggestion was certainly possible. It would explain the vehicle’s behavior, but it was unsatisfying. His evidence was slipping away. “We could follow it,” the starpom suggested.
“And leave the perpetrator?” Petrov retorted. “The remote vehicle can lead us on a wild-goose chase while the American escapes. And we have no way to stop or recover the device. No,” he concluded, “we will stay with the American sub.”
Petrov studied the tactical display. The American lay ahead of him, to the north. He’d increased speed to fifteen knots and was headed northwest, away from Russian waters. Severodvinsk was in a slow right turn, swinging past south.
For one moment, he contemplated letting the American go. He had confirmed its existence, identified it, and disrupted whatever they were trying to do. He had met all his mission objectives.
Even as this thought flashed through Petrov’s mind, he rejected it. He could trail them. He could follow them out of this area, watch them recover their remote, and then leave Russian waters, virtually unscathed. They could deny ever being there, and Russia would have only the word of Severodvinsk and her crew. And they still didn’t know what the Americans’ mission was.
They needed more proof. “Increase our speed to twenty-five knots and set up an intercept. I want to pass directly in front of the American. I’m not letting him leave the area.”
As Kalinin acknowledged and turned toward the helmsman, Petrov added, “
And Vasiliy — no margin.”
USS Seawolf
“Conn, sonar. Sierra three zero’s blade rate is increasing again. Possible target zig to starboard. He may be getting ready to make another pass.”
“That’s it,” Rudel announced defiantly. “I’m not betting our lives on his seamanship. Increase speed to twenty knots. XO, prepare a spread of coun-termeasures. Two ADC Mk 5s, an NAE, and a mobile decoy.” He didn’t wait for a reply. “Sonar, conn. We’re speeding up. Stand by to go active on the HF set, but try and keep tracking him passively. Regular reports.”
Sonar’s first report put the Russian at two thousand yards, off their port quarter. “Blade rate is increasing. Contact has steadied up on a new course.”
“Sonar, conn. Good job, Stapp, you’re our eyes. Keep the reports coming.” Rudel released the intercom key and looked at the control-room watch. They were silent, expectant.
“There’s no point in only maneuvering. He can follow our movements and it just increases the chance of a collision. I intend to wait until he’s committed to his run, release a mobile decoy and some countermeasures, then break hard left away at speed. We will then head southwest and break contact. Comments?”
Jerry felt some of the ice in his chest start to melt. The skipper had a plan. It was reassuring to know the captain could still think clearly with a nuclear sub buzzing them.
“Captain, Sierra three zero now bears one seven five at fourteen hundred yards. Estimated speed twenty-three knots and increasing,” reported Shimko.
Rudel watched the display. “Very well, XO. What’s the status of the decoy?”
“CSA launcher ready, where do you want the mobile decoy to go?”
“Preset base course three five zero, maximum speed. Jamming function enabled.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
“Conn, sonar. Sierra three zero’s bearing is unchanged! Repeat, constant bearing, decreasing range. Speed now twenty-five knots.” If a contact didn’t change his bearing and the range decreased, there was only one possible result. Jerry wondered if the Russian planned to swerve at the last minute. Or did he really intend to ram them?