by Larry Bond
“He’s a good officer, and somehow he’s got to get through this, with our help.” Shimko said it firmly. He wanted it to be true. Jerry did, too, because he could not imagine the alternative.
The XO smiled, just a little. “Remember this when you’re a captain, and be kind to your executive officer.” He turned and walked the few steps to the electronics equipment space door. Shimko carefully peered in.
Chief Hudson, Lamberth, and Blocker were all in the space, quietly, even happily working. Jerry looked for Kearney, then sadly remembered he was on his way to the Churchill. Hudson was now short two men.
The chief spotted Shimko, then Jerry. “Progressing well here, sirs. No surprises so far. We’ll have one HF transmitter up tonight.”
The 1MC called them both this time. “XO AND MR. MITCHELL TO THE BRIDGE.”
“What now?” Shimko wondered aloud.
They both hurried back to the bridge, climbing back into the cold wind a few minutes after the call.
Rudel pointed to the southwest. “I thought it was the jets coming back, but it’s only one plane, and it’s larger.”
Jerry took a pair of binoculars and inspected the plane, little more than an irregular speck. “Slow mover, and a big one. ASW patrol plane, but not a Bear. Probably an 11-38 May.”
“I concur,” Rudel answered. “Mr. Mitchell, will those fighters escort him?”
“No, sir. They don’t need to, since we don’t have anything up here to threaten the patrol plane.”
“Can he hear our bridge-to-bridge radio?”
“Yessir, he should be able to. He has the UHF gear aboard. The Russians know our radios are down, and they just heard us use the bridge-to-bridge set to communicate with our helicopter. He’ll be listening on our frequency.”
The aircraft was closer now. Jerry could see the long, straight wing, four turboprop engines, and that wart of a radar dome below the cockpit. Definitely an 11-38 May. The Russians used them for ASW patrol. It carried radar, sonobuoys, magnetic detection gear, and a bomb bay full of torpedoes and depth charges.
Subs like Seawolf were this plane’s natural prey, and Jerry felt totally exposed. They were surfaced, crawling at slow speed, in a damaged boat. He forced himself to remember that it was peacetime, that there was no reason for the Russians to attack.
Rudel asked the XO, “Marcus, do you want to try?”
“I’d rather use one of the CTs, sir. My Russian’s a little weak for this.”
“All right, get one up here,” Rudel agreed.
Shimko ordered Hayes, “Have CT1 Sayers report to the bridge.”
In the few minutes it took for the CT to arrive, the patrol plane approached, and passed down their starboard side at low altitude and at a respectful distance. It began circling them.
After one circuit, the bridge-to-bridge radio came to life. “American submarine. You are in restricted place. Leave at once.” The words were heavily accented, with pauses between every few words.
“Well, that’s handy. He speaks English, sort of.” Shimko added with a touch of sarcasm, “That’s probably what my Russian would sound like to them.” He looked at the captain. “With your permission, sir.”
Rudel nodded, and Shimko keyed the mike. “Russian aircraft, this is USS Seawolf. We have Severodvinsk’s location. We have information on her condition.” Shimko spoke slowly, watching Rudel the entire time, who nodded approvingly at the end of each sentence. When he released the mike switch, they all listened, straining to hear the Russian’s reply.
“American submarine. You are in restricted place. Leave at once.”
“Well, this is not promising,” Shimko observed.
CT1 Sayers appeared from the hatchway, and somehow they made room for the petty officer. Shimko was trying again. “Russian aircraft, we have important information for you. Please respond.”
“American submarine. You are in restricted place. Leave at once.”
“He’s getting better with practice.” The absurdity of the situation almost made Jerry laugh. “We finally contact the Russians, and all they can do is repeat a message to leave. I’ll bet it’s written down for him.”
Shimko handed Sayers the mike. “See if you can establish some useful comms with this guy.”
Sayers nodded and keyed the switch. He spoke smoothly in Russian for a minute, then released the button. Jerry recognized the words “Seawolf’ and “Severodvinsk? as the CT spoke. “I said we were guarding Severodvinsk’s location,” Sayers reported.
Rudel nodded. “That’s fine.”
The plane made almost a complete circle before responding. “American submarine. You are in restricted place. Leave at once.” This time it was followed by a medium-length string of Russian.
Sayers keyed the mike, spoke two words, then turned to Rudel and the XO. “They repeated the same message in Russian, and added, ‘This is our last warning.’”
Jerry put himself in the pilot’s place. “He’s probably been ordered not to discuss anything with us, just deliver the message.”
“I don’t care what his orders are. Make the SOB listen,” Rudel ordered. “We have to guide them to Severodvinsk’s location. Tell them.”
As the captain spoke, the patrol plane had continued its circle until it was dead ahead, then tightened its turn. Even without the binoculars, they could all see doors opening up under the plane’s belly. The Il-38 carried its weapons internally.
As Sayers spoke a string of rapid phrases, the Ilyushin headed straight for them, descending. Jerry thought, They wouldn’t dare. Professionally, he wondered what ordnance aboard the patrol plane would be appropriate to use against a surfaced sub. Then Jerry saw it was too close to drop anything.
Whatever Sayers was saying over the radio was drowned out by the plane as it passed overhead. All four engines were at maximum throttle, and the massive aircraft blocked the sun for a moment. It was almost twice as long as a Flanker, with three times the wingspan. Jerry tried to study the open bomb bay as the plane passed overhead. It was visible for only a moment, but he could see dark shapes inside.
Then it was past, and Jerry and the others all found themselves blinking, looking at each other. “I could see ‘Made in Minsk’ on the depth charges,” Shimko joked. Rudel smiled weakly.
Jerry tried to reply in kind. “And I left my camera at the hotel.”
The patrol plane did not turn, but was climbing. “He won’t leave,” Jerry predicted. “He’ll climb to medium altitude and watch us with his radar.”
“And we’ve been reminded again we’re not welcome.” Rudel added. “But I won’t be driven off. Thank you, Petty Officer Sayers. Let’s go below and give Mr. Hayes and his lookout some elbow room.”
In control, Rudel gave his coat to a petty officer and asked for the 1MC microphone. Jerry saw him think for a moment, then draw a breath, gathering himself.
“This is the Captain. We’ve had some visitors, Russian aircraft passing close overhead. We’ve tried to talk to them, and although I’m sure they heard us, they’ve only responded by repeatedly asking us to leave, and they’ve been pretty rude about it. But I am not abandoning the men aboard Severodvinsk until I’m satisfied the Russians are on station. Thank you for your hard work and continued dedication to this rescue mission.”
Rudel hung up the mike and turned to Jerry. “Nav, make sure we don’t get more than two miles from Severodvinsk’s position.” Grabbing his jacket once again, Rudel snatched the vital satellite phone from its charger near the chart table. “I’m going to report to SUBGRU Two.”
~ * ~
Petr Velikiy
Vidchenko and Kurganov waited for the reports. Kurganov was still speaking to the Ilyushin’s pilot when the messenger appeared. The rating handed a slip of paper to Admiral Vidchenko. “Intercept reports the American is using his satellite phone.”
Kurganov hung up the secure phone and took the slip from Vidchenko. He read the report quickly. “He’s reporting in, as he should.”
; Vidchenko asked, “Still no sign of him moving away from the datum?”
“It’s been less than ten minutes. He may be asking for orders. Their radio receivers still don’t work, after all.”
Vidchenko shook his head. “Not an American submarine captain. They have more autonomy. He may be telling his commander what he will do, but he won’t ask.” The admiral looked at the clock, then his counterpart and surface group commander. “I say give him another fifteen minutes. If he hasn’t left by then, he’s not going to.”
Kurganov asked, “Is that an order, Admiral? Or are you asking my opinion?”
Vidchenko smiled. “I value your opinion greatly, Ivan Aleksandrovich.”
“You know I have two Kamovs on alert plus fifteen. I think we’ve given the American more time than they deserve.”
“Then give the order. And increase the formation’s speed to twenty-five knots. We don’t have to steer evasively, either, since we know the American submarine’s location. Leave one escort with that tub Rudnitskiy, but tell her we want maximum speed.”
Kurganov responded brightly, “Aye, aye, sir! That will cut our time to datum in half. If Rudnitskiy is on the ball, we might get one sortie out of AS-34 before dark.”
~ * ~
USS Churchill
A radioman knocked on the door to Captain Baker’s day cabin. The enlisted man handed hard copies to Baker and Patterson. “Flash traffic, sir,” he explained. Silas and Lindstrom watched the others quickly scan the page.
“Rudel’s phoned in to SUBGRU Two. He’ll have a transmitter up this evening, and he reports being buzzed by Russian aircraft.”
“That’s old news,” Silas commented. “The Seahawk pilot’s been back an hour, and he’s still twitching from seeing those Flankers.”
Baker shook his head. “No, Commander. According to Rudel, after the fighters left, a May patrol aircraft showed up and buzzed them at very low altitude—with an open weapons bay.”
Concern flashed through Patterson, and she saw it in the others’ expressions. “They wouldn’t dare.”
“They’ve violated the incidents at sea agreement,” Baker observed. “I wonder what else they’d be willing to do.”
“This is the first time an American sub has operated openly that far north. As touchy as they are, Seawolf’s mere presence would anger them. Imagine how they must feel after the collision with Severodvinsk. And as far as they are concerned we sank their submarine. And even though it was an accident, they’re bound to be more paranoid than usual.”
Patterson studied her copy. “Washington’s asking for my recommendations.” She sounded a little amused.
Baker replied, “You are the mission commander, ma’am.” He smiled, but his tone was serious. “You don’t make ‘recommendations.’”
“My feelings exactly, Captain. Please take Churchill into the exclusion zone and rendezvous with Seawolf. So far the Russians have threatened an unarmed helicopter and a damaged submarine. Let’s even up the odds and see if that improves their behavior.”
Baker stood and started to leave, but stopped at the door. “Speed, ma’am?”
“As fast as you can get us there.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am.” He was smiling as he left.
Silas looked worried, but Patterson didn’t give him a chance to speak. “Get our team in the wardroom right away. We’re going to need to put together messages to State, SUBGRU Two, Wright, Seawolf, and especially the Russians.”
The deck surged forward as Churchill increased her speed; they felt the deck vibration as all four gas turbines slammed their power into the two shafts.
“They may not want to talk to Seawolf, but we’ll make them talk to us.”
She looked at Lindstrom. “Besides, you’re supposed to be the advance man for Marine Diving and Salvage. You can’t do any good fifty miles from Severodvinsk.”
~ * ~
21
TURN AWAY
9 October 2008
1030/10:30 AM
USS Seawolf
Jerry and Shimko were both in control when they received the message. Captain Rudel was still topside, so Jerry volunteered to take it up to him. The fresh air helped settle his queasy stomach.
The bridge was roomier with only Hayes, the lookout, and the captain. “Message from USS Churchill, Skipper. They’re coming to join us.”
Rudel smiled broadly. “It will be nice to see a friendly face.” The message stated Churchill’s intentions and ETA, in a little over two and a half hours.
“They’re going to ignore the Russians’ exclusion zone,” Jerry observed.
“I’ll still be glad for the company. Particularly given the Russians’ behavior as of late,” Rudel answered. There was a hint of relief in his tone.
The lookout called down, “Sir, air contact to the southwest, just above the horizon.”
Hayes and Rudel instantly turned their glasses in that direction. Jerry had to wait, then borrowed the pair that Hayes was using. He’d anticipated more fighters, but this was worse: two Kamov antisubmarine helicopters.
“Ka-27 Helixes,” Rudel announced as Jerry got his first look, and of course he was right. These helicopters carried their ordnance externally, but they were still too far away for Jerry to see whether or not they were armed.
Rudel didn’t wait to find out. “Sound General Quarters.” Hayes passed the order below, and soon thereafter the BONG, BONG, BONG of the general alarm reverberated from the access trunk. As Jerry handed him back his binoculars and stepped toward the open hatch, Rudel told him, “Tell the XO I’m staying up here.”
“Aye, sir.” Jerry couldn’t see the point in the captain staying topside, but there was little precedent for where the captain of a surfaced nuclear sub should be during General Quarters.
Jerry ran into the organized chaos of the control room and passed the captain’s message on. The XO nodded, although he didn’t look comfortable with Rudel’s decision. Wordlessly, he pointed to the plotting table by the fire-control displays, Jerry’s GQ station.
Shimko took station near the useless periscopes. These helicopters were harbingers of the approaching Russian surface task force, a group that contained some pretty significant firepower. Their radar was down, as was the ESM system, and all the bow arrays were useless. They could still use the wide-aperture array on flanks, but they had to steer a beam manually. That was it. They were almost blind.
Jerry tried to imagine what Seawolf could see or do. She could fire a torpedo while surfaced, since the tubes were still functional, but you couldn’t torpedo a helicopter. Besides, they didn’t want to shoot at anybody. This was supposed to be a rescue mission, not a wartime patrol.
Rudel’s voice came over the intercom a moment later. “Control, bridge. This is the Captain. I have the deck and the conn.” The watch section acknowledged the relinquishing of command from Mr. Hayes to the captain, but not without an odd look. A couple of minutes later, both Hayes and the lookout came in to control and repeated Rudel’s intention to stay topside. Confused, Will Hayes shrugged his shoulders. Shimko nodded silently. Jerry could see the XO was even less of a happy camper now. Hayes then sat at one of the blank fire-control consoles, his General Quarters station.
“Control, bridge. Both Helixes are armed.” Rudel’s voice described their movements. “One’s coming straight in. The other’s pacing us a hundred yards to port.”
Jerry and the others could only wait. Seawolf was out of her natural element, and defenseless. Without her electronic sensors, the watchstanders in control had to rely on Rudel’s running commentary of the events up on deck.
“The first is passing directly over us. They’re loaded with four depth charges.” That was bad. Russian air-dropped antisubmarine torpedoes only work against submerged subs, but a Helix could set a depth charge to detonate at shallow depth, say thirty feet. Dropped at close range, it would shatter Seawolf’s hull.
“They’re not responding to my hails on the bridge-to-bridge radio.” Rude
l then added, “The helicopter to port is lowering its dipping sonar.”
Most antisubmarine helicopters either carried a small sonar at the end of a cable or dropped expendable sonobuoys. Ka-27 Helix helicopters could carry sonobuoys along with the dipping sonar, but only at the expense of ordnance. To hunt for a sub, a Helix driver would be directed to a likely spot where the crew would then lower the sonar “ball” into the water, and listen. If they didn’t hear the sub, they could actively search, or ping, for it by transmitting an intense burst of acoustic energy and then listen for the echo. The main advantage of a dipping sonar was that it could change its search depth by raising or lowering the array. This negated a submarine’s ability to hide from a shallow sensor by ducking below the thermocline.