by Tom Clancy
“Conn, sonar, we have diesel lines bearing 285. No screw blade information yet. But it’s not a submarine’s diesel. More like two old Chinese twelve-cylinders firing away, out of sync with each other. No bearing drift, either. He’s closing.”
Cheyenne had detected the Hainan. Mack was sure of it. Which meant the Romeo might be around.
Mack found himself wondering how accurate his intel was this time. Naval intelligence and the CIA had been wrong a bit too often lately, and it was especially important this time. If he could count on the report that the Romeo had replaced all its torpedoes with mines, he wouldn’t have to worry about getting shot at. On the other hand, he couldn’t just ignore the Chinese submarine, either. The last thing he wanted was a submerged collision at sea.
Mack decided it was time for some active sonar practice — forward of the beam in sector searches. This would alert the Romeo, but that’s what Mack wanted. With luck, the Chinese captain would be smart enough to “pull up his pants and go home,” as the old saying went. Besides, it was better than two quiet submarines running into each other.
Within minutes of going active, sonar reported contact on a submarine based on the elevation angle of the returning energy. Range 1,850 yards and on the same bearing of the twelve-cylinder diesels’ platform, which also was being painted by the BSY-1.
Mack wanted to make tube one ready for a snap shot, but he couldn’t. His orders prevented him. He could only fire first at an Akula, not at a Romeo.
Moments later, though, Mack realized that he wasn’t going to need to fire. He knew that when sonar reported the submerged contact blowing ballast and increasing speed, two shafts, four blades each, and squawking on his underwater telephone to the Hainan.
The Chinese Romeo’s captain had indeed decided to get away from the famous Cheyenne, but he had panicked, remembering too late that the Hainan was above him. He ordered the main ballast tank vents opened, but it was too late to stop his ascent. His full rudder turn didn’t help either, because the Hainan turned in the same direction.
Moments later, the Romeo’s sail sliced through the thin Hainan hull, right at the engine room. The Hainan diesels sputtered and died, their hot engine blocks cracked by the much cooler seawater. Its captain ordered his men to abandon ship as the seawater continued rushing in, helping to put out the fires but causing the tiny craft to sink beneath the waves.
The Romeo was undamaged, but its mission was over. It was going to be busy rescuing the survivors from the diesel fuel-slicked grasp of the sea.
Mack grinned and made another quick decision. He decided to save the torpedoes after all and not use them as off-board sensors. Using their active sonar had given them a pretty good idea where the minefield was, so he ordered a notice-to-mariners message drafted and loaded into an SSIXS buoy. This notice would be transmitted to CTF 74 once the buoy reached the surface and unfurled its tiny satellite antenna. After repeating the transmission four times, the buoy would scuttle itself.
Mack was pleased with his decision. He saved his Mk 48s. He didn’t have to go to periscope depth near where the rescue efforts were taking place. And he was able to proceed upon his mission right away.
But there was a downside to his plan, one which Mack hadn’t considered. By not being at periscope depth, Cheyenne’s WLR-8(V) antenna was not able to detect a radio transmission from the Romeo, a transmission in which the Romeo’s captain reported Cheyenne’s presence in the area.
This information was picked up and put on the Chinese South Sea Fleet and East Sea Fleet broadcasts. Hours later, with Mack unaware of any of this, General Yu’s Akulas and also some Kilos were closing on the datum reported by the Romeo. Three Akulas were closing from the southwest at a comfortable twenty-five knots, while two slower Kilos were making an end around northeast of Taiwan, running on their batteries at eight knots so that they would not have to recharge their batteries before getting on station east of the big island.
By supper time, Cheyenne had arrived in her first search area and slowed to one-third speed to launch several SSXBTs, but Mack rescinded the SSXBT order after the OOD reported that sonar had weak tonals from an Akula to the south. These were the same tonals that had been detected on the last Akula that supposedly sank after the Typhoon hunt. Sonar also detected a loud shaft rub, which easily allowed them to determine the Akula’s twenty-five knot speed.
Mack realized that they must have only damaged the Akula’s shafting. With a word of caution to his officers about their returning adversary, Mack ordered battle stations torpedo manned.
This was a Russian-crewed Akula. Captain Mackey was aware of this, and knew it was dangerous. He also knew that this could be a repeat of a previous hornets’ nest, when quieter Akulas popped up out of nowhere. But he didn’t expect two hornets’ nests.
When the Akula’s range closed to 25,000 yards, the shaft rub stopped. The Akula had slowed to determine where his counterparts were. The two other Akulas, manned by Chinese who had only recently completed their training in the North Fleet, lost contact on their leader, so they also slowed.
One lesson the Chinese had learned during their training was not to communicate over underwater telephone. Instead, they had come up with a technique to determine range without using the underwater telephone — a technique that no seasoned submariner would ever employ, but these two Chinese captains were far from seasoned.
The first captain sent a single sonar ping. Upon receipt, the second captain returned the ping. They knew that the time difference in sound reaching each Akula would translate to the range of the pinging Akula, plus they would know the bearing to each other.
The Russian captain was furious at the inexperience and ineptness of his Chinese comrades. He broke his silence, using his underwater telephone to tell them to stop, but he was too late. The second Akula had already returned the ping with his fire-control sonar.
Mack was elated. The bearings and time differences, coupled with tracking of the Russian captain, gave Cheyenne the fire-control solution they needed.
All three Akulas were still outside 15,000 yards, so Mack passed the order for the torpedo room to “Make tubes one and two ready in all respects, including opening the outer doors.”
“Tubes one and two are ready in all respects. Both outer doors are open.”
Captain Mackey ordered, “Firing point procedures, Master 131, tube one, and Master 132, tube two.” He was going for the two quiet ones first. The noisy one, if it ran, would give away his position by the shaft rub.
The combat systems officer at the weapons-control console reported the target courses, speeds, and ranges.
“Sonar, conn, stand by.”
“Conn, sonar, standing by.”
“Match sonar bearings and shoot, tube one, Master 131, and tube two, Master 132.”
“Match sonar bearings and shoot, tube one, Master 131, and tube two, Master 132, aye, sir.”
“Tubes one and two fired electrically,” reported the combat systems officer.
“Conn, sonar, units from tubes one and two running hot, straight, and normal,” came the report from the sonar supervisor as the two torpedoes executed their wire-clearance maneuvers and accelerated to medium speed for the inbound run.
“Very well, sonar,” Mack replied.
“Conn, sonar, the weapons are accelerating.”
This report was confirmed by the combat systems officer, who announced acquisition by both units.
Mack was right. The two quiet Akulas weren’t the only ones increasing speed, but while they were turning away to flee the incoming torpedoes, the noisy Akula wasn’t running. Instead, it was heading for Cheyenne.
No Russian chicken there, Mack thought as he ordered the wires cut, tubes three and four made ready, and tubes one and two reloaded.
The two Mk 48s from Cheyenne continued on course for their targets. The third Akula, Master 130, whose captain was foolish enough to speed up, was within Mack’s sights, allowing Cheyenne’s sonars to detect it easily
and to quickly establish the perfect fire-control solution.
“Conn, sonar, explosions bearing 205 and 198.”
Even with two of his Akulas gone, the Russian captain still maintained his posture, bearing down on Cheyenne. He had more experience with the U.S. 688 class, and especially with Cheyenne, than his lost Chinese fellow captains, but he was no match for Captain Mackey.
When the Akula captain finally heard the two Mk 48s from Cheyenne’s tubes three and four, it was too late. They were both in their terminal phase of homing. They would explode before any countermeasures could be launched — which was questionable at this speed, anyway. The Akula’s flank speed combined with that of the Mk 48s, a combined closing rate of over eighty knots.
“Conn, sonar, two explosions, both bearing 250. Lost the Akula, Master 130, in the explosions.”
And when the reverberations died out, the ocean was silent. Too silent, because the two Kilos had slowed to three knots when they heard the first explosion to their south.
Mack cleared the area to the north, not knowing he was closing on the Kilos. That was not a mistake; it was the next phase of Mack’s search plan for sanitizing the Taiwan area.
As Mack was approaching communications (periscope) depth to report the attack on the three Akulas, radio reported that they had lost the broadcast on the floating wire. The wire was dead and would have to be changed out.
That was a mistake, for the motor reel noise was detected by the slinking Kilos, even before Cheyenne’s radiomen had completed reeling the bad one into the ship past the line wiper.
“Conn, sonar, torpedoes in the water, ET-80s, bearing 355 and 008.”
“Snap shots, tubes one and two, bearings 355 and 008 respectively,” ordered the captain. Mack was not sure if the torpedoes were launched by Akulas or by Kilos. But it didn’t matter. If the culprits were Kilos, they shot first.
“Conn, sonar, we have the submarines. They’re Kilos, Captain, single six-bladed screws speeding up. The torpedoes are heading right for them.” Mack and all of his officers, as well as all of the sonar men, knew the screw-blade configuration of every adversary. The Akulas had seven-bladed screws which helped in differentiating between the two classes. If foolhardy enough, one could also get close enough to detect steam-flow noises, which the diesels didn’t have.
“All ahead flank. Do not cavitate. Make your depth one thousand feet,” ordered the captain.
Cheyenne was already beneath the first layer. In less than three minutes Cheyenne was at flank speed, on course 175, and at one thousand feet, beneath the second layer. There was a deep sound channel present, something Mack would have known if he’d been able to acquire SSXBT information. As it was, he learned of its existence from the sound-velocity profiler.
“Unit three has acquired.” Then, a moment later, “Unit four has acquired.”
“Cut the wires, shut the outer doors, and reload tubes three and four,” ordered the captain, but they didn’t have to cut the wires. Cheyenne’s speed and course away from the torpedoes caused both wires to break right after acquisition.
The torpedo’s guidance wires had performed beyond all expectations. They would have to inspect Cheyenne’s stern area for any signs of the thin wires being entangled in either the screw, sternplanes, or rudder.
When out of danger from the ET-80 torpedoes, Mack slowed Cheyenne and turned to the west to listen.
“Conn, sonar, we have two torpedoes in the water, bearings 275 and 209,” the sonar supervisor reported.
Apparently there were more Akulas out there who had picked up Cheyenne as she ran fast and deep. Now that she had slowed, she was able to detect the torpedoes.
“Conn, sonar, two explosions, bearings 359 and 002, estimate range 20,000 yards.”
The Kilos, Masters 133 and 134, had experienced their first and last battle with Cheyenne.
Mack once again increased speed to flank, launched two evasion devices, and turned away from the incoming torpedoes. As he did so, he couldn’t help wondering how many other hornets’ nests there were. He also ordered tubes three and four made ready, so that when he turned back to face the new Akulas, Cheyenne would be ready. He kept the muzzle doors shut, though, until he slowed. Once they were open, he would point the direction in which he expected the Akulas to be. Mack actually didn’t care if they were Akulas or Sierras. They had shot first.
His orders were acknowledged and executed with Cheyenne’s usual thoroughness and professionalism. After the torpedo room reported completing the ordered evolution with the torpedo tubes, the executive officer said to Mack, “Captain, tubes three and four are ready in all respects. Both outer doors are open.”
“Very well, fire control,” answered the captain.
Cheyenne turned to the southwest and immediately gained contact on two Akulas. The contact was on all sonar arrays, and the tonals allowed the certainty of the classification by the sonar supervisor.
The Akulas had been running at flank toward Cheyenne’s last known position. This was simply more stupidity from the new Chinese crews, who were obviously enjoying their high speed submarines — and Mack appreciated it. When the BSY-1 operators and the fire-control coordinator were satisfied with the TMA solution on Masters 135 and 136, he ordered, “Firing point procedures, Master 135, tube three, and Master 136, tube four.”
The combat systems officer reported the course, speed and range of the two targets.
“Sonar, conn, stand by.”
“Conn, sonar, standing by.”
“Match sonar bearings and shoot, tubes three and four.”
“Match sonar bearings and shoot, tubes three and four, aye, sir.”
“Tubes three and four fired electrically,” reported the combat systems officer.
“Conn, sonar, units from tubes three and four running hot, straight, and normal,” came the report from the sonar supervisor as the two torpedoes executed their wire-clearance maneuvers.
The torpedoes were set to run at medium speed until acquisition, at which time they would increase speed and angle up from their deep search depth beneath the layer. At that point the torpedoes would pitch up and complete their acceleration to attack speed.
“Very well, sonar,” Mack said. “Time to acquisition?”
“Eight minutes, thirty-five seconds, Captain,” answered the combat systems officer.
A few minutes later Mack heard, “Both units have acquired.”
“Conn, sonar, Masters 135 and 136 are increasing speed, cavitating heavily.”
Sonar reported noisemakers launched by the two Akulas. Mack countered that by ordering, “Steer the weapons.” Cheyenne’s course was changed to the right by ninety degrees so the bearings to the incoming Akulas and to their stationary noisemakers would diverge. When a bearing spread was obtained, the combat systems officer reported the torpedoes on course for intercept.
“Cut the wires, shut the outer doors, and reload tubes three and four,” ordered the captain. “Make tubes one and two ready in all respects, including opening the outer doors.”
He knew a melee was about to occur, and he wanted Cheyenne ready.
“Conn, sonar, we have four torpedoes in the water, between bearings 270 and 265. Both Akulas have launched again.”
They’re also running nearly side by side, Mack thought. It was time for Cheyenne to clear datum. It was also time for more countermeasures to be launched.
“Steady as she goes, all ahead flank. Do not cavitate. Make your depth one thousand feet.” Mack followed this with, “Rig ship for depth charge.”
His plan was to let the countermeasures do their work while Cheyenne quietly ran away from the scene.
Cheyenne reached flank speed, on course 085, and at one thousand feet, as the Russian torpedoes entered the baffles after the countermeasures. Sonar didn’t hear Cheyenne’s last two torpedoes as they entered their terminal homing modes.
“Conn, sonar, two explosions in our baffles.”
But Mack couldn’t slow yet, which mea
nt he couldn’t turn and determine the fate of the Akulas. There was also too much reverberation to get both direct path and bottom bounce information, so no range would be available anyway.
A short while later, though, he knew he didn’t have to turn. Sonar picked up the familiar implosions as external pressure vessels on the Russian SSNs imploded from their descent to the bottom of the northern Philippine Sea, five thousand fathoms below.
Mack was satisfied. Seven more kills for Cheyenne, not counting the Hainan. That’s what CTF 74 and CINCPACFLT had wanted: more Akula kills. And they got two Kilo kills to boot.
When they had run far enough that the enemy torpedoes should have run to exhaustion, the captain slowed and cleared Cheyenne’s baffles to port after proceeding above the layer. Sonar reported no contact, so Mack secured from battle stations while Cheyenne took a course toward the shallow waters of the East China Sea. There Cheyenne would search the last sector around Taiwan. The TB-23 would remain deployed for the time being, at least until they started their approach to shallow water. Then the TB-16 would be deployed to the short stay.
The atmosphere aboard Cheyenne was one of happiness, but the euphoria of victory was coupled with exhaustion. As the stress level in each man slowly subsided, an unbelievable fatigue set in.
That was the norm of submarining, when warriors returning home could sleep most of a day away. Those who did not have to continue at their watch stations crashed in their narrow bunks. There was time to sleep before they passed by the Ryukyu Islands; then it was back to being ready for anything. Even Mack finally crawled on top of his bunk, curling up to fit on the short bunk.