Blackmail

by Rick Campbell

  The other MH-60R dropped a MK 54 into the water while Falardeau’s Tactical Mission Officer readied another one from their helicopter. Both torpedoes slipped into the water and two more explosions followed. After the third explosion, Falardeau’s Sensor Operator reported breakup noises. They’d punctured the pressure hull in at least two compartments, and the submarine was descending past Crush Depth.

  76

  USS HARRY S. TRUMAN

  Captain Brent Sites viewed the icons on the Video Wall with concern. The air and surface battles continued, with each wave of American fighters inflicting and receiving damage. The Russian air defense systems were robust, and although every Russian surface combatant had been damaged by now, almost half were still operational, including Kuznetsov and Pyotr Velikiy.

  In the process, however, the American carrier air wings had been reduced to half strength. This wasn’t without consolation, as the Russian combat air patrol was almost nonexistent now, either having been shot down or vacating the area after running out of weapons. The few Russian fighters protecting their surface combatants were from Kuznetsov, and there were fewer than two dozen of those remaining.

  While the Russian surface ships and aircraft had taken a pounding, not a single American surface ship had been damaged. Above the ocean’s surface, the Americans were taking the fight to the Russians, and doing a good job of it. However, red submarine icons were starting to appear in the Bravo tier; they’d breached the Alpha ASW barrier in seven areas. So far, the MH-60Rs were performing admirably, and no Russian submarine had approached close enough to attack the American task force. Things were proceeding about as well as could be expected.

  77

  ARABIAN SEA

  Major Vadim Aleyev kept his Sukhoi Su-35S close to the water, just above the ocean waves. Accompanying him in the darkness were seventeen other tactical fighters of various designs, each outfitted with air-to-air missiles. The eighteen aircraft were all that remained of the three hundred fighters at Iranian air bases, making it aloft as the runways and hangars were destroyed. Although originally assigned to relieve aircraft in Russia’s combat air patrol, they had a new mission. As the Russian fighters streaked toward their targets, Aleyev looked forward to revenge.

  They could have gone after the American aircraft carriers. But the Americans had a solid screen of destroyers and cruisers designed to shoot down incoming aircraft, plus the task force had retained thirty F/A-18s for combat air patrol above their carriers. Few, if any, of Aleyev’s fighters would make it close enough to attack the carriers. Besides, Aleyev and the other Russian fighters were armed with air-to-air missiles, with no opportunity to change them out for air-to-surface ones. However, for their assigned targets, air-to-air missiles would suffice.

  Aleyev looked down as the targets appeared on his radar display. The Americans realized the real threat to their task force lurked beneath the ocean surface, and had established a three-layer Anti-Submarine Warfare defense: submarines, ASW helicopters, and surface combatants. To inflict major damage, Russian guided missile submarines had to penetrate only the first two layers. Aleyev and his fellow fighters couldn’t do much regarding the American submarines, but they could address the next tier.

  As Aleyev’s Su-35S closed on the targets, his early warning receiver alarmed. He’d been spotted by American radars. Aleyev was beyond the range of the American surface ship air defense missiles, but a quick check of his display told him the combat air patrol above the carrier task force was racing toward him and the other inbound Russian aircraft. It wouldn’t be long before the American fighters were within range, launching their missiles. However, the missiles would arrive too late.

  Aleyev targeted the first twelve MH-60Rs, assigning one missile to each helicopter. Although the MH-60Rs had advanced self-defense systems, they were sitting ducks compared to tactical fixed-wing aircraft. They wouldn’t fool many of Aleyev’s missiles. Aleyev fired a volley, releasing all twelve missiles, then banked to the right and headed toward shore, staying close to the ocean in an attempt to evade the incoming American fighters. If he made it back to the coast, he wouldn’t be able to refuel and rearm, but at least he could land and fight another day.

  As his fighter streaked toward the Iranian shoreline, Aleyev watched the MH-60Rs disappear from his radar.

  78

  ARABIAN SEA

  USS HARRY S. TRUMAN

  Captain Sites watched in dismay as the blue icons representing the MH-60Rs vanished from his display. The attack was sudden, with the approaching Russian jets lost in the sea clutter as they kept close to the ocean waves. As the Russian fighters turned outbound, chased by eighteen F/A-18s, Sites listened to the speaker as the ASW Commander dealt with the carnage. Almost every airborne MH-60R had been shot down, with only a half-dozen lucky survivors having successfully jammed the incoming missiles. The only other MH-60Rs available were those refueling or rearming aboard the aircraft carriers and destroyers; not enough to cover each sector in the Bravo tier.

  K-456 VILYUCHINSK

  With his crew at Combat Stations, Captain First Rank Dmitri Pavlov stood in the Central Command Post of his guided missile submarine, surveying his men at their watch stations. Their orders and reports remained calm and professional, although they’d been unable to suppress the surge of pride and excitement when they sent the American fast attack submarine opposing them to the bottom less than thirty minutes ago.

  As Pavlov’s submarine crept into the next tier of America’s ASW barrier, they’d been detected again, this time by ASW aircraft. Hydroacoustic reported rotary wing contacts headed their way—the helicopter rotor wash on the ocean surface was detectable as they approached. But then, suddenly, the contacts disappeared, accompanied by nearby splashes. Pavlov smiled. Vilyuchinsk was safe, at least for the time being.

  Vilyuchinsk was at one hundred meters, proceeding at ten knots toward the third tier of the American task force’s ASW screen. Unlike Russian attack submarines, Vilyuchinsk didn’t need to penetrate the screen; his weapons had a far greater range than torpedoes. However, he’d need to get close enough to the American surface combatants to eliminate their ability to react, which would place his submarine dangerously close. Additionally, he wouldn’t have the advantage of surprise he’d had several weeks ago, when he’d attacked the Roosevelt carrier strike group and damaged its aircraft carrier.

  Pavlov had returned to port following the successful mission, for which ship and individual awards would be forthcoming. In the meantime, Vilyuchinsk had reloaded all twenty-four silos with replacement P-700 Granit missiles and was back at sea, ready to add to its recent glory. After checking the two fire control consoles, displaying the positions of the American ships they were approaching, Pavlov decided they were close enough.

  He announced, “All stations, Command Post. Proceeding to periscope depth.”

  Vilyuchinsk tilted upward, rising toward the ocean’s surface as Pavlov kept his face pressed to the attack periscope. Despite the crowded Central Command Post, it was quiet as the submarine rose from the deep toward periscope depth. Pavlov couldn’t keep the periscope raised for long; Vilyuchinsk was close to the American destroyers and cruisers, and their periscope detection radars would identify a scope if it remained up for too long.

  Pavlov announced, “Periscope clear,” as Vilyuchinsk settled out at periscope depth at a speed of five knots to minimize the wake created by their periscope. After several sweeps to verify there were no combatants close enough to pose an immediate threat, Pavlov searched the horizon for his targets, pressing the red button on the periscope handle twice, sending the bearings to fire control.

  Pavlov lowered the scope, announcing, “No close contacts.”

  Close was a relative term, as the American surface combatants were a few thousand meters to the southeast. In the distance, Pavlov had detected two gray specks on the horizon. Two of the American aircraft carriers. The other two carriers were farther back, undetectable visually at this range. However
, two targets would suffice.

  Pavlov checked the bearing to the two aircraft carriers, then announced, “Prepare to fire, full missile salvo, twelve missiles to each contact. Set arming range at ten thousand meters.” Pavlov needed to ensure the Granit missiles enabled after they passed over the American cruisers and destroyers, not before.

  The Missile Officer acknowledged and prepared to launch Vilyuchinsk’s surface attack missiles, each one armed with a warhead weighing almost one ton. It wouldn’t take many hits to seriously damage the American aircraft carriers.

  “All missiles are energized,” reported a watchstander seated at one of the fire control consoles. A moment later, he added, “All missiles have accepted target bearing.”

  “Open all missile hatches,” Pavlov ordered.

  The hatches lining the submarine’s port and starboard sides retracted.

  The Missile Officer reported, “All missile hatches are open. Ready to fire, full missile salvo.”

  Pavlov surveyed the tactical situation and the readiness of his submarine one final time, then gave the order.

  “Fire.”

  USS HARRY S. TRUMAN

  Red icons appeared on Captain Sites’s display, almost on top of the task force’s cruiser and destroyer screen. As the red icons moved swiftly toward the center of the American task force, he realized there was insufficient time for the cruisers and destroyers to target and launch their SM-2 missiles and destroy the inbound weapons before they reached Truman. As the icons moved across the screen, they split into two groups, twelve missiles targeting Reagan and twelve heading toward Truman. Sites turned to his Tactical Action Officer.

  “Shift SSDS to auto.”

  The TAO acknowledged, then shifted Truman’s SSDS—Ship Self Defense System—to automatic. The SSDS would assign contacts to their Sea Sparrow and Rolling Airframe missiles, then target any leakers with their CIWS Gatling guns. It was out of Sites’s hands. All he could do was watch.

  The TAO called out, “Inbound missiles. Brace for impact!”

  Sites reached up and grabbed on to an I-beam, watching as the SSDS automatically targeted the inbound missiles. It all happened in a matter of seconds. Sea Sparrow and Rolling Airframe missiles were launched in succession, taking out six of the inbound missiles, and the CIWS system engaged next, taking out three more.

  Three missiles made it through and Sites felt the ship shudder when the missiles hit. On the damage control status board, red symbols on the carrier’s port side marked each missile impact and damage radius. Thankfully, the Hangar Deck hadn’t been penetrated, nor was the carrier’s Island superstructure damaged. Fires raged in three compartments, but Truman had survived the missile onslaught relatively unscathed.

  Reagan, however, didn’t fare as well. One of the screens on the Video Wall switched to a real-time feed from one of the F/A-18 tankers refueling the task force’s combat air patrol. In the darkness, flames leapt skyward from USS Ronald Reagan, illuminating the water’s surface an orange hue.

  It wasn’t long before the TAO announced, “Reagan has terminated flight ops.”

  Sites wasn’t surprised. Reagan’s crew would have their hands full for a while, battling to get the fires under control. In the meantime, things would get busier aboard Truman and the other two carriers, with Reagan’s aircraft aloft looking for a new home.

  Sites returned his attention to the Common Operational Picture on his display, fusing all sensor data. More red U-shaped icons, representing Russian submarines, had appeared in the Bravo ASW tier. If they were guided missile submarines, the remaining MH-60Rs would arrive too late to prevent them from launching. The situation was deteriorating rapidly.

  The ASW Commander reached the same conclusion, and Sites listened to his orders over the speaker as he called in the cavalry.

  79

  PELICAN ZERO-EIGHT

  The P-8A Poseidon aircraft, call sign Pelican zero-eight, cruised at twenty thousand feet, high above and well behind the American task force. Normally, anti-submarine warfare platforms wouldn’t be so far from the action, but the VP-45 Pelican submarine-hunter aircraft was a modified Boeing 737-800ERX, the replacement for the venerable P-3C Orion. Cruising at a high altitude and distance from the enemy helped keep the new P-8As out of harm’s way. Plus, with the new weapons they carried, they didn’t need to descend to less than a thousand feet and be right on top of the target to drop their torpedo.

  Seated in Pelican zero-eight’s cabin with four other operators at their consoles, Lieutenant Commander John Martin, the crew’s Tactical Coordinator, or TACCO, monitored the status of the five weapons in the aircraft’s bomb bay. In each bomb stow was a HAAWC—High Altitude ASW Weapon Capability—a MK 54 torpedo with a wing kit. Once the torpedo was ejected, the HAAWC’s wings would pop out and guide the torpedo, changing its descent angle and course as required, aiming for a GPS coordinate in the ocean.

  Although the P-8A didn’t have cabin windows, Martin knew that in the distance there were seven squadrons of the Navy’s new Poseidon aircraft, each aircraft loaded with five HAAWCs. As Martin wondered whether their weapons would be called into service, launch orders were received by Martin’s Communicator, seated beside him.

  The aim point coordinates were transferred to Martin’s console, and he spoke into his headset, informing the pilots and other operators of the pending launch.

  “All stations, TACCO. Set Battle Condition One. Coordinates have been received for all five torpedoes.”

  Each member of the crew, from the pilots to the Sensor Operators, pulled out their weapon release checklists, methodically accomplishing each step. As a P-3C TACCO, Martin would have calculated the Release Points—the locations where the aircraft would drop its free-falling torpedo ordnance. However, that was no longer necessary, since HAAWCs could fly to their destination, as long as they had enough glide path.

  After verifying that was the case for all five weapons, Martin reported, “All weapons are in the launch basket. We are Weapons Red and Free.”

  As Martin reviewed the weapon impact coordinates, he was surprised they were releasing all five HAAWCs at once with their aim points almost on top of each other. There couldn’t possibly be that many submarines so close together, nor would you want to waste five torpedoes on a single target. Martin looked over at his Communicator’s screen, spotting orders going to twenty of the P-8As aloft. Each had been ordered to drop their entire contingent of weapons. One hundred HAAWCs, all at once. Martin finally realized what they’d been ordered to do.

  It was a torpedo version of carpet-bombing, saturating the operating areas with MK 54s.

  “Flight, TACCO. Give me bomb bay open, Master Arm On.”

  The aircraft shuddered as the bomb bay doors swung open. Martin selected Bay One first, holding his hand over the Storage Release button.

  An amber light illuminated on Martin’s console.

  “Flight, TACCO. I have a Kill Ready light. Standing by for weapon release.”

  “TACCO, Flight. You are authorized to release.”

  Martin pressed the Storage Release button for Bays One through Five.

  Bombs away.

  80

  K-456 VILYUCHINSK

  Captain First Rank Dmitri Pavlov stopped behind his men seated at the fire control consoles, examining the solutions for the American surface ships ahead. Having launched his twenty-four missiles against two American aircraft carriers, Pavlov had gone deep and ordered his submarine toward the American destroyers and cruisers. If he made it past them, he could bring his six torpedo tubes and twenty-eight torpedoes to bear on the wounded aircraft carriers.

  As Pavlov’s submarine approached the American surface combatants, the first indication Vilyuchinsk was in trouble was the report from Hydroacoustic.

  “Command Post, Hydroacoustic. Splash detected on bow array, bearing zero-five-zero.”

  Before Pavlov could respond, Hydroacoustic reported three more.

  “Additional splashes, bearing one-four-ze
ro, two-two-zero, and three-one-zero.”

  With four splashes surrounding his submarine, Pavlov realized they’d been boxed in by whatever entered the water. He had a suspicion as to what they were, and Hydroacoustic’s next report confirmed it.

  “Torpedo in the water, bearing zero-five-zero!”

  Pavlov’s eyes went to the nearest fire control screen as the bearing to each splash appeared. They truly were boxed in; there was nowhere to turn.

  “Ahead flank!” Pavlov announced. “Launch torpedo countermeasures.”

  Vilyuchinsk’s Watch Officer launched a torpedo decoy, then a moment later a jammer to ensure the torpedoes behind them saw only the decoy and not Vilyuchinsk speeding away. However, there was no good option for the torpedoes in front of them. Vilyuchinsk would loom large and enticing on their sonar returns.

  Pavlov decided to turn ninety degrees to starboard. “Steersman, right full rudder, steady course two-seven-zero.” Turning to his Watch Officer, he ordered, “Launch decoy.”

  Vilyuchinsk steadied on course, and with the decoy behind him, Pavlov ordered another jammer into the water. Maybe, with the jammer partially obscuring Vilyuchinsk as it sped away, one of the torpedoes would suck up on the decoy.

  The torpedo off Vilyuchinsk’s port bow wasn’t fooled, however. It had a clear view of the submarine speeding to the west and altered course to intercept. Additionally, the torpedo off his port stern sniffed out the decoy and went around, locking on to Vilyuchinsk as the submarine attempted to slip away. Likewise, the two torpedoes off Vilyuchinsk’s starboard side correctly identified the small object in the water pretending to be a submarine as a decoy, and went around. One torpedo veered to the east and the other to the west, and the latter torpedo detected the Russian guided missile submarine.

  With three torpedoes closing fast, one from each side and one from behind, there was nowhere for Pavlov to turn. Vilyuchinsk was at maximum speed and it was obvious more decoys would be ineffective, nor could his submarine outrun the speedy torpedoes. That left one option.