Submarine Warriors: The Enemy Beneath

by Rob Tiffany

  “We’ve got unauthorized movement of one of our submarines!” A Lieutenant yelled into his walkie-talkie as he walked briskly along the pier.

  The Petty Officer of the Watch who had previously ushered the group of kids inside the sub had already begun running up and down the length of the 560-foot submarine when each of the hatches had slammed shut. He made calls to the ship’s radio room but got no answer. When he saw the propeller spinning, his heightened sense of panic caused him to pull out his gun; he then sounded the alarm and called the Commander of Submarine Squadron 17.

  “Admiral Cunningham, this is Petty Officer Jimenez,” the Petty Officer said frantically through his headset. “The USS Alaska has been sealed shut and is underway westward along the Delta pier.”

  “Who’s onboard the ship right now?” Admiral Cunningham asked.

  “According to my log, we have a small skeleton crew, which isn’t too unusual in the first moments after we arrive home,” replied Petty Officer Jimenez. “We also had a pre-arranged tour of the sub for Admiral Connery and the group of kids whose fathers all died. They came through the missile deck hatch that I’ve been guarding.”

  “What about the other hatches that you haven’t been guarding?” the Admiral pressed.

  “There’s been a lot of commotion since we docked at the pier so it’s possible, but not likely, that someone could’ve entered through one of the other hatches,” the Petty Officer replied timidly.

  “You idiot!” The Admiral screamed into the phone. “For all I know, terrorists or agents of a foreign government could be stealing the Alaska right now with all those innocent children onboard. I don’t need this. Phone down to the boat to make sure that this isn’t a big misunderstanding before I call in the cavalry.”

  “I’ve tried, sir,” responded Jimenez. “The sound-powered phone lines are cut and I get nothing but static when trying to contact the radio room. No one from the Alaska has tried to contact me so I have no idea what’s going on inside.”

  “I’ve heard enough,” Admiral Cunningham barked through the phone. “I’m going to end this right now.”

  Fewer than thirty seconds passed before a squadron of Marines arrived on the scene in their Humvees and started firing machine guns at the submarine. Hearing the bullets hit the hull, the kids inside started to scream.

  “They’re going to kill us!” Mike shouted in the control room.

  “Hold your fire!” One of the Naval Officers on the pier yelled out to the Marines. “There’s still a Petty Officer topside on the missile deck and I don’t think your bullets are going to make a dent in the HY-180 steel submarine hull either.”

  The giant vessel started to pull away from the pier. When the long ropes that kept the sub tied to the cleats became taut, it was unable to move any further. A loud, groaning sound echoed down the pier as the metal cleats began to bend. Onlookers started backing away from over-stretched ropes holding the Alaska in place.

  “Helm, all-ahead flank,” commanded the Admiral. “We need to break free of the pier.”

  “All-ahead flank, aye,” Annie repeated.

  Back in Maneuvering, the Eng turned the giant wheel until all the steam the reactor could make was pushing the turbine to spin the propeller faster than ever. The churning water sprayed everyone on the dock with icy-cold salt water.

  After straining to the breaking point, all of the ropes snapped and the submarine broke free. The cleats holding the lines ripped from the pier and smashed into the Humvee, narrowly missing the heads of the Marines. With nothing holding it back now, the sub lunged forward and everyone inside fell over.

  Petty Officer Jimenez found himself thrown from the top of the sub and into the water.

  “Reduce your speed to ahead 1/3 and come right to heading 000,” ordered the Admiral.

  “Reducing my speed to ahead 1/3 and coming right to heading 000, aye,” Annie replied nervously to the Admiral.

  Back in the Squadron 17 building on the Delta pier, the Squadron Commander looked out the window at the chaos below and dropped his head into his hands. He watched people running frantically to get away from a sparking power cable that just snapped free from the departing sub.

  “This can’t be happening!” the Commander yelled out in his empty office. Noticing the phone on his desk, he quickly picked it up to call the tugboat that had previously guided the Alaska to the pier.

  “This is Admiral Cunningham,” the Squadron Commander announced through the phone. “I want you to tell your tug pilot to block the Alaska’s path so it can’t make it north up the Hood Canal.”

  “I’m not interested in putting my boat in that kind of danger Commander,” replied the pilot. “I don’t care what you’re interested in!” the Commander shot back. “Block that sub or the only thing you’ll be piloting is a rubber duck in your bathtub!”

  The tugboat gunned its engines and set an intercept course for the Alaska.

  Back on the Alaska, Admiral Connery was looking through the periscope and could see the approaching vessel.

  “Helm, all-ahead full,” he ordered. “I don’t want that tug to crack our sonar dome.”

  The big ballistic missile sub came to life and raced ahead up the canal. By the time the two vessels intersected, the tug was no longer able to block the Alaska and crashed midway into its starboard hull. The sub shook violently but the tug got the bad end of the deal as it bounced off and started taking on water, its engines quickly flooded, forcing the tug out of action. With that, the Alaska made its way north towards its next obstacle, the Hood Canal Bridge.

  Fulfilling their part of the mission, an SUV containing Mike’s and Chrissie’s moms headed northwest out of Poulsbo toward the Hood Canal Bridge at a high rate of speed.

  “I hope we don’t get pulled over by the cops,” Chrissie’s mom Ashley spoke frantically.

  “Don’t sweat the small stuff,” replied Mike’s mom Michelle. “Our husbands might be alive, our kids are heading into danger on a stolen submarine, and the Marines are shooting at them.”

  “Good point,” Ashley commented. “I guess we just need to play it cool and act like we know what we’re doing.”

  The Hood Canal Bridge was created by the military and serves as the only way for people living in the northern Olympic Peninsula to cross North America’s largest fjord. The bridge can only be opened by the Navy to allow submarines in and out of the Hood Canal, greatly inconveniencing motorists on either side who need to get across. It has a control tower near the center where naval personnel can open or close this submarine gateway.

  Admiral Cunningham from Squadron 17 placed a phone call to the petty officer manning the bridge.

  “Petty Officer, the USS Alaska has been hijacked by an unknown group of hostiles and is heading your way,” Admiral Cunningham announced. “Under no circumstances are you to let that submarine through.”

  “Yes, sir, Admiral,” the Petty Officer replied. “No one’s getting through here today.”

  “One other thing.” The Admiral paused. “Make sure that your sidearm is available, just in case. This situation is critical to our national security.”

  The SUV arrived at the bridge and Ashley and Michelle made their way into the tower. “I know you’re scared,” Michelle whispered. “Just act tough and let’s do the SWAT team thing.”

  “Got it!” Ashley whispered back as she kicked open the door to the control room to let Michelle inside.

  “Open the bridge right now or I’m taking you down!” Michelle pointed her son’s airsoft gun menacingly at the Petty Officer. “Don’t make me kill you.”

  “I’m afraid I won’t be able to do that,” the Petty Officer replied, turning around with his 45 drawn. “Conspiracy to steal a Trident submarine with 24 ICBMs is treason and punishable by death. I don’t know which government you work for, but you won’t get very far in this business using a gun with an orange muzzle on the tip.”

  Ashley was hiding just outside and called her daughter to let her know tha
t they had failed in their mission to subdue the Petty Officer and get the bridge opened. Chrissie relayed the bad news to the Admiral and everyone else in the sub’s control room.

  “There’s no going back,” Admiral Connery proclaimed. “Chief of the Boat, do we have any Torpedomen down below?”

  “Yes sir,” replied the Chief of the Boat. “What in the world do we need torpedoes for?”

  The Admiral picked up his sound-powered phone and twisted the dial to the torpedo room.

  “Torpedo room, Conn, make torpedo tubes one, two, three and four ready in all respects,” the Admiral ordered through the phone.

  “Make torpedo tubes one, two, three, and four ready in all respects, Conn, Torpedo room, aye,” replied the Torpedoman on the other end of the line.

  Down in the torpedo room, the men began the process of getting the torpedoes ready to launch. Fortunately, torpedo tubes one, two and three were already loaded. Using a sophisticated block-and-tackle system, they lifted the fourth torpedo off its rack and carefully loaded it into the open tube. They quickly ran diagnostic tests on the tubes to verify they were ready to shoot.

  “Conn, Torpedo room, tubes one, two, three and four are loaded and ready to go,” the Torpedoman exclaimed. “I’m not comfortable with arming torpedoes inside the Hood Canal sir.”

  “Do your job and keep your comments to yourself,” replied the Admiral.

  “Fire control, plot a firing solution to the bridge,” the Admiral commanded. “This should be easy since the bridge is directly in front of us.”

  “Admiral, the bridge is full of people,” replied Nick.

  “Plot a firing solution or I’ll find someone else to do it,” the Admiral snapped back impatiently.

  “Yes, sir,” replied Nick. “Hey, is anyone in the sonar shack?” he yelled out down the passageway. “I need a ping to verify range to the Hood Canal Bridge.”

  Without a reply, the sound of a loud ping echoed through the control room. Ping! The digital readout on Nick’s fire control panel went from zero to 1,500 yards. Using what he learned from his training class just hours before, Nick plotted a simple firing solution that would shoot the torpedo directly ahead with a range of 1,500 yards and closing.

  “The firing solution is ready,” Nick exclaimed.

  “Torpedo room, Conn, open the outer door and flood torpedo tube one,” Admiral Connery spoke.

  “Opening the outer door and flooding torpedo tube one, aye,” replied the Torpedoman. “You better know what you’re doing, old man.”

  “You’re relieved,” the Admiral ordered.

  “You’re letting your missing son cloud your judgment, Admiral!” The Chief of the Boat got up in the Admiral’s face.

  “I know what I’m doing, COB,” countered the Admiral.

  “Chrissie, call your mom and tell her she has less than a minute to clear the bridge.” The Admiral motioned.

  Chrissie frantically dialed her phone.

  “Mom, you’ve got to get everyone off the bridge right way!” Chrissie screamed into the phone. “We’re going to blow up the bridge with one of our torpedoes. Hurry, get out of there!”

  Ashley burst into the bridge control room to see the Petty Officer pointing his gun at Michelle.

  “Looks like we have company,” the Petty Officer remarked. “Let me guess, you probably brought a rubber knife to take me down, right?”

  “Okay, I admit it, we’re not commandos.” Michelle held her hands up in the air.

  Ashley turned to the Petty Officer. “Unfortunately, we have a little problem here. The thing is, if you don’t open this bridge, the Alaska is going to blow it up with its torpedoes.”

  “You’re bluffing,” said the Petty Officer.

  “I’m no Texas Hold’em player, but are you willing to bet your life on that?” she retorted. “Are you going to bet the lives of all these civilians in their cars on the bridge? We’re all going to be dead in the next minute.”

  The Petty Officer turned to the window and his demeanor changed when he saw the approaching submarine. He immediately pulled down a lever that lowered crossing-guard arms on both ends of the bridge and then picked up a microphone.

  “Ladies and gentleman,” the Petty Officer spoke. “You have less than a minute to get out of your cars and run back to shore. Clear the bridge immediately. This is an emergency. Run!”

  Complete hysteria ensued on both sides of the Hood Canal Bridge.

  The Petty Officer looked back at Mike and Chrissie’s moms. “I’ll make sure all these civilians are safe, but my orders are clear; I will not let the Alaska and the enemies of America through this bridge.”

  Back on the Alaska, Admiral Connery ordered, “Nick, shoot torpedo one.”

  “What about the people on the bridge?” Nick pled with the Admiral.

  “Just trust me,” replied Admiral Connery.

  Nick pushed the firing button for torpedo tube one. Seconds later, with the assistance of 1,500 PSI hydraulic power, a giant water-ram inside the tube forced the water and torpedo out of the sub. The Alaska shuddered and everyone felt a whoosh as it fired a torpedo out into the Hood Canal.

  From the bridge tower, the Petty Officer looked on in disbelief as a giant bullet of water and bubbles emerged from the sub.

  Michelle screamed, “We’ve got to get out of here!”

  “Oh my God, they really did it!” yelled the Petty Officer. “Our only chance to survive is to open the bridge and hope the torpedo will pass through the opening.”

  “Hurry! Do it before we get blown to bits,” Michelle shouted.

  The Petty Officer turned his back on the sub and ran to the control panel. He hammered his fist on the large red button, opening the bridge.

  Meanwhile, panicked people on the bridge ran for the shore, leaving their cars behind.

  “There’s a torpedo coming right at us!” screamed a woman, as she ran from her car carrying her baby.

  On the Alaska, Admiral Connery looked through the periscope and could see the bridge begin to open.

  “Helm, all-ahead flank, cavitate,” commanded the Admiral. We’ve got to catch up to the torpedo and get through the open bridge before they change their minds.

  Back in Maneuvering, the Eng spun the wheel as fast as he could to apply all of the power of the reactor’s steam to the turbines.

  “Admiral, the torpedo has made it to the bridge opening,” Nick called out to Admiral Connery. “Do you want me to detonate it?”

  “Negative,” replied the Admiral. “Let the fish pass through the opening and then deactivate it. I want it on the bottom of the Hood Canal where it won’t hurt anyone.”

  Back in the bridge control tower, the Petty Officer remained almost frozen in terror as he watched the torpedo pass through the bridge opening. Almost another minute passed before he snapped back to reality.

  “We’re still alive,” exclaimed the relieved Petty Officer. “I wonder why they didn’t blow us up?”

  He got his answer when he heard Alaska’s fog horn blow as it passed through the open bridge trailing 500 yards behind the torpedo. The Petty Officer spun around and pushed the button to close the bridge - but it was too late; the Alaska had made it past its last physical barrier.

  Once the bridge reconnected, Marine Humvees made their way across to the tower. Moments later, the door busted open and Marines armed with M16s flooded the room.

  “Both of you put your hands on your heads and get on your knees.” A large Marine motioned to Michelle and Ashley. “Petty Officer, you’re under arrest for disobeying a direct order. And you two,” he said pointing the machine gun towards the women,” you’re under arrest for conspiracy to steal a submarine. We’re well within our rights to shoot you both right here and now for committing treason. Take them away.”

  The Marines led the three of them out of the tower and into one of the Humvees at gunpoint.

  Meanwhile, people who had been on the bridge and watched everything transpire began to open their cell phones
and make calls. The situation was no longer contained - the Navy’s secret was out!

  The White House

  “Mr. President, someone has stolen one of our submarines,” the National Security Advisor said as he barged into the Oval Office. “A Trident, no less.”

  “NSA, take us to DEFCON three while we try to figure this out,” responded the President. “Where is this happening? Kings Bay or Bangor?”

  “Bangor, sir,” the NSA replied.

  “Put me in contact with whoever’s in charge at the scene,” ordered the President.

  “I’ve got COMSUBRON 17 on the line for you right now.” The NSA pointed to a flashing light on the President’s desk phone. The Commander in Chief quickly picked up the phone.

  “Admiral, how could something like this happen?” the President asked sternly.

  “We don’t know, sir,” replied Admiral Cunningham. “Our information is still very sketchy at the moment.”

  “Well then, tell me what information you do have!” The President’s voice grew impatient.

  “Right after the Alaska returned home, it was hijacked while most of the crew was on the pier,” stammered the Admiral.

  “The Alaska?” the President said with a curious tone.

  “Mr. President, retired Admiral Connery and the children of the deceased Alaska Captain and crewmembers went onboard the sub for a tour immediately after it docked,” Admiral Cunningham continued.

  “I just conducted a funeral service a few weeks ago over at Arlington for the Alaska’s skipper and some of his crew,” the President grumbled. “This seems like more than a coincidence. Are you saying that a bunch of kids just made off with the most powerful weapon in my arsenal?”

  “I’m not saying that at all,” replied the Admiral. “We can’t get through to them via radio so we don’t know what’s going on inside or who’s in charge. I’m worried that Admiral Connery and those kids just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when this theft took place.”