Kirov had been moving northwest on a course of 300 degrees, but now Karpov also turned to meet the expected heading of his adversary. The ship began a wide circle to the northeast an hour after sunrise. As for Gromyko, he was about 135 miles from Kirov, on the exact new heading Karpov had ordered.
Nikolin looked over at Karpov, indicating he had just received a communication from Blackbird. Their helo had just picked up the first surface contact of the day, and the data was being simultaneously fed to Rodenko’s station, and also by secure datalink to Kazan. Karpov immediately ordered the contact designated ‘Hostile,’ and the game was on. The Russians had been moving north, intending to then turn northwest to bypass Ponape. Kazan was well ahead, about 150 miles to the northeast. The Japanese were coming south from Eniwetok, and so when Takami was spotted it was 165 nautical miles from Kirov, but only about 50 nautical miles northwest of Gromyko’s boat. As soon as he received the contact data, the wily sub Captain immediately ordered a turn northwest to a heading of 295.
Kazan was cruising just over the thermocline layer at 20 knots, without even a whisper of cavitation at that speed. From that location, his depth about 420 feet, he could use his hull mounted sonar to listen to contacts above him, and then also deploy a towed sonar array, which would descend down below the layer. That was the deep sound channel, where noise traveled best in the ocean. He seldom went there, except to pass through to a deeper region of the sea, or perhaps to simply hover there, silent and still, letting Chernov’s ears feast in that sound channel.
Now the element of surprise was acting as the dealer in this poker game, handing out cards to both sides. Harada had no idea that Karpov was really gunning for him, or that Kazan even existed, and he was now being hunted by two very dangerous opponents. Yet Karpov had no idea Kita’s task force was out their either, as it was well beyond his own surface radar range, and his Blackbird had only just picked up Takami, while Kita’s ships were now between 75 and 130 nautical miles behind his leading picket.
Karpov also thought he was simply about to try and spear a slippery fish with his missiles. He knew Takami still had her potent SAM defenses, but he was unaware that they had replenished all their SSMs from the stores aboard Omi, and now had been restored to full inventory on all missiles.
“Mister Rodenko,” said Karpov. “What is their present heading?”
“Sir, they are running on 215 degrees, at 20 knots. They’re aimed right at us.”
“Interesting. That Seahawk of theirs must have spotted us as well. I could fire on it now, but their ship is fairly close, is it not?”
“About 35 miles west of the helo,” said Rodenko. “They might cover that with their SAM envelope.”
“Yes… So we’ll wait. That helo isn’t any threat, at least not to us. Since we’re data linked to Kazan, Gromyko knows it’s there and can act accordingly. Let’s just ease on in a little closer. I’ll get it in a moment. As for Takami, I’d prefer to use the Moskit-II system instead of our MOS-IIIs.”
“You could hit them now with the Moskit system if we use the lighter 250kg warheads,” said Fedorov.
“Yes, but I think we’ll get in closer, throw four Moskit-IIs and follow them with a Zircon Mos-III.”
“You expect them to let you close the range?”
“Well, have a look for yourself, Fedorov. They’re coming right at us. Brazen little bastards, yes?”
Karpov did not know it, but his hubris was leading him to make his first great mistake. He was unconcerned about being spotted, which was something he would have worked hard to prevent under any other circumstances. But he did not think Takami could hurt him, so why worry about being detected? He was already running with all sensors active, indifferent to any threat. Yet Fedorov seemed uncomfortable with this scenario, and Karpov turned, giving him a look.
“Something bothering you?” he asked his number one.
“This just doesn’t feel right….” Fedorov had a look on his face that Karpov had seen many times before. “Why would they be vectoring in on us like this if they had no means of hurting us? They have everything to lose, and nothing to gain.”
“Frankly,” said Karpov, “they can have only one thing in mind. First off, they’re just under 170 nautical miles out. So they probably think we can only hit them with the P-900s at the moment, and I’m betting they are assuming we have very few of those. They don’t realize we can modify the range of both our MOS-III and Moskit-II systems. We’ve got the extended range components in inventory, and I had them all mounted on the MOS-IIIs after that last engagement. So we’ve really got range on those missiles now, our premium strike weapon. That’s why I’d prefer not to tip my hand on them just yet, and hold those cards tight. So I’m thinking they may believe we have very few of the P-900s left. They’ve been counting heads too since our last engagement.”
“Correct,” said Fedorov. “We have only six left, but why would they court trouble with us here at all, under any circumstances? This doesn’t make sense.”
Karpov thought about that. “Yes, now that you say this, it does seem odd. Perhaps he was coming south to help defend Truk. Perhaps he’s just trying to thumb his nose at us.”
“To distract us away from another high value target,” said Fedorov, and that got Karpov’s attention.
“A carrier group?” That was the only high value target worth anything in Karpov’s mind. Fedorov’s suspicions had just hit pay dirt, though neither man had any notion of just where that suspected carrier group was, and what it was carrying.
“You think they may be planning another ambush… With a carrier group out there somewhere?”
“Why else would they be doing this? Why the direct radio contact? Why are they vectoring in on us now? I don’t like it.”
“Alright… If they did have a carrier group, where would it be?”
“North,” said Fedorov. “That ship is a key fleet defense asset. They would use it as a forward picket, and the carriers would be north. They could even have planes in the air at this very minute. We’re well within strike range of WWII carrier planes now.”
“But we can easily defeat such a strike,” said Karpov.
“Yes, but for a price. It will cost us more missiles.”
“I’ll hold all our longer range SAMs in that event, and just use the short range stuff. You may be correct here, Fedorov, but let’s wait a while, and see what they do. Kazan has likely turned, and Gromyko will be creeping up on them by now. He will be much closer, and he has the Zircon. That missile would get to them before they have a chance to react.”
* * *
“Got them!” Lieutenant Otani reported from her station on the SPY-1. “I have them bearing 262, on a heading of 47 degrees, at 20 knots. Contact reported by the Seahawk, sir. The Russian is emitting on everything: Fly Screen, Palm Frond, Roundhouse, Tombstone and Top Plate. I can even pick up his short and medium range fire control radars. He’s lit up like an American Christmas tree.”
“Excellent,” said Harada. “We’ve done our job. Miss Shiota, make sure Admiral Kita has that data, and it looks like the ball’s in his court now. Open that channel to Karpov.”
Harada smiled. He wanted to keep this fish on the line as long as possible, and decided to tell Karpov something plausible he might believe in this scenario.
“Ahoy Kirov,” he said over the com system. “I intend to pull every tooth you have if I can. So my bow is pointed right at you, and you can throw away as many missiles as you want. Our SM-2s are hungry this morning. Over.” He gave Fukada a smile, and the two men stood there waiting, arms folded, the tension rising. It was like waving your arms at a Grizzly Bear. Takami was going to play the lure as long as possible, hoping to rouse Karpov’s ire and get him to waste missiles. Seconds later, they got a rude alert.
“Sir, the Seahawk reports a vampire! They put a missile on it!”
Karpov had decided not to make the game so easy for the Japanese. He ordered up an S-400 and had it on its way, feeling just a
little better now that his first missile had joined the argument with Captain Harada. The time for words was over.
Out on that Seahawk, the pilot had been up at 12,000 feet to get good radar coverage of the sea to the south, elated to finally spot their enemy. Then the missile warning jarred like a shock, and he knew he was in grave danger. Reporting the surface contact, he switched off his radars, toggled on any offensive ECM he had, and then dove. His helo was fairly agile as he desperately tried to avoid the missile, but it had already locked on and was not fooled. The S-400 ran true, and the Seahawk was dead ten seconds later…
Otani looked over at Harada, her eyes carrying the message plainly enough. “We lost them, sir. The Seahawk is gone.”
“Damn,” Harada swore, looking at Fukada. “That was one hell of a long shot. They must be packing the S-400 Triumf system.”
“We could even the score,” said Fukada. “Put an SM-3 on their helo.”
“That might feel good, but they have those damn Zircons, and the SM-3 is a good defensive weapon for that. At least our boys didn’t die in vain. We’ve got their location. Let’s hope Admiral Kita jumps on them. They just saw that helo go down too.”
* * *
Kita did see the Seahawk fall, and was none too happy about it. Yet now that they had Kirov’s position, he was going to get some payback. The F-35’s were up on the decks of Kaga and Akagi, and ready to climb for the clearing blue skies.
Kaga led the strike launches, allocating eight F-35’s armed with the GBU-53. Instead of sending three Shotai of three planes each, Kita opted to send two heavy Shotai, each with four planes, and hold one F-35 in reserve. The first, designated Kaga-1, would fly west, hopefully staying well out of range of the Russian helo’s radar, and then turn south to have their run at Kirov. Kaga-2 would fly a similar pattern, only moving east. Then Akagi followed by launching a SEAD package on one plane. Captain Yoshida would then set up a single Shotai of three planes, each one carrying four JSOW glide missiles. They would take a more direct vector on the contact, and all groups would attempt to coordinate their strike as they neared the target. It was a classic “Champagne” attack as the service called it, three groups with the two on the wings forward, and the JSOWs in the center slightly behind. All the pilots knew they were cleared hot, and would need no authorization from their home carrier to release their ordnance. Yoshida held the remainder of his planes in reserve for a possible second strike, which was always a wise precaution.
“Saturation,” said Admiral Kita. “Go get ‘em. If our planes get close enough to throw, that will put 64 GBU/53s in the air and 12 of the JSOW munitions all coming in at different angles to the target. Alright, let’s get the air defense ships out in front. Send to Kongo, and have them join Atago and Kirishima in a fan forward of our heading. The ship will come to starboard on 090. Signal Akagi to match our heading and speed. We’ll move off towards the Omi Group.”
The F-35B was capable of hovering and taking off vertically if required, and could also use the short flight deck. Built at great cost as a replacement for aging 4th generation fighters, it had seen increasing deployments in Western navies by 2021. Japan had a very few at the outset of the conflict, and Kita was quite fortunate to have so many here at his disposal.
The plane had been built as a strike fighter more than a dog fighter for the Navy. In early testing, many thought it would not have the agility to fight in close with even good 4th Generation fighters. In those engagements, it was built to rely on stealth and long range missile attack before it came to a dogfight. None of that was at issue here, and the plane's outstanding ability to carry strike ordnance was now clearly evident.
Yet there were no fast ship killing missiles in the Western bag of tricks. Where the Russians relied on the lightning speed and range of a missile like the Zircon, and even the older Onyx (Moskit II) class missiles, the US Navy armed its planes with the Long Range Anti-Ship Missile, (LRASM), but the Japanese did not have any of those. Instead they would rely on a time-honored and well proven strike munition—the smart bomb. But unlike the dumb bombs carried by the planes of 1943, these weapons could be released 40 to 60 nautical miles from their targets, and they would glide into battle using infra-red and radar seeking capability, as well as inertial navigation.
The Germans had come up with a very similar idea, and they called it the Fritz-X, a radio controlled glide bomb that produced some dramatic results in the Med. The main difference was that the guidance was not on board the bomb, but in the plane that launched it. Kita’s smart bombs could be released, and left to their own devices. They would deploy small winglets, and begin their gliding descent from the heavens, like a rain of meteors, slow, silent and yet very deadly.
Now his birds were in the air, and so he would turn his carriers away from the action, taking them back to join Omi. The three escorting destroyers would adjust speed and charge forward to deploy their AA defense screen. Everything was up to the F-35’s, the best shot Kita had at putting some harm on Kirov. If the first wave failed, he still had planes ready for a second strike. For now, his strike was up and on its way at 08:30 hours, and Kirov was soon to be visited by some most unexpected adversaries in the skies east of Ponape.
Chapter 33
Harada was not happy about the loss of his Seahawk, but he thought they could not yet risk having one of the other ships send up a replacement. If the enemy saw a second helo, it would immediately raise a question as to where it could have originated. He knew the Russian helos would be able to see it did not come from his ship, and they were being very careful, keeping their helos well out of range of his SM-2 missiles, to keep an eye on things like that.
Yet the loss of aerial radar assist was a real liability. He turned to his XO, a question in mind. “Should we have Kita get up another helo?”
“Now or never,” said Fukada. “The Russian helos probably haven’t seen any of Kita’s ships yet. If Kita launches and our birds come in low, they probably won’t spot them either.”
“Alright, I’ll make the suggestion, but I suppose it will be up to the Admiral.” He had Ensign Shiota send a quick message requesting helicopter support, and advising low altitude approach until they were inside estimated Russian radar coverage zones. It was all a game of cat and mouse, as if chess might be played by allowing one player to move a piece while the other fellow wasn’t watching the board. That was the essence of modern combat at sea like this. Those that could see their enemy, could kill. At the moment, the score was even, each side had seen the other, but Karpov had more eyes in the sky, and the Japanese needed to match that capability.
The word was passed to Kongo on the forward defense line. She was in the center position, with destroyers flanking her some 25 miles to either side. Each one had a Seahawk, and Kongo got the nod.
* * *
At a little after 08:45 local time, Rodenko reported the KA-226, Blackbird, was running low on fuel. Karpov ordered it home, and had their last KA-40 launch to take its place and give him aerial radar coverage to the east. The other KA-40 was patrolling to the west. He also turned to approach Blackbird, hoping to close the range for it a bit and ease recovery.
Kita’s Kaga-1 Shotai was already well inside the radar envelope of the KA-40 to the west, but the Russians saw nothing. The inherent stealth of the F-35 was now another dangerous factor weighing heavily in the equation for the Japanese.
But both sides could play that game, and Captain Ivan Gromyko was continuing to make a very quiet approach to Takami as all this was going on. Kazan had picked up the Japanese ship’s position, prompting Gromyko to order an immediate turn to port. He had been cruising due west on a heading of 270 for the last half hour, running just above the layer. With his depth at 420 feet, he ordered Kazan to put on speed at 09:15, increasing to 28 knots.
The Captain’s intention was to get in as tight on Takami as he could before the other side might locate him. The closer he was, the less reaction time his enemy might have on defense, for his missi
les were very fast. He was presently about 32 nautical miles from his quarry, and on a course to intercept, which he now adjusted slightly to account for the speed change. His Starpom, Lieutenant Commander Belanov, was at his side, the bridge quiet and serious, as it always was when Gromyko was present. They had been running in EMCON mode, having received the Takami’s location long ago from Blackbird before he went deep.
“We’re close enough to give them a shave,” said Belanov. “Those Zircons are quick.”
“True,” said Gromyko. “I could ruin their day right here and now, but if I get a little closer, inside torpedo range, all the better.”
Gromyko had the patience of a saint when it came to combat. He saw the Japanese Seahawk go down, and as far as he was concerned, Takami was already dead. They had no helo in the air that could bother him now, so as long as he stayed outside a ten mile range, they had no other ASW weapon aboard that could touch him. His own UGST Fizik-1 Torpedoes could reach out 22 nautical miles if necessary, though he preferred to fire them much closer in. So he was very close to his target now, creeping up like a cat about to spring on its unwary prey. He might have fired his RPK-7 torpedoes earlier, but being a rocket assisted weapon, that would have given up his position. If he wanted to do that, he’d use something much better. When he fired his cruise missiles, the enemy would know approximately where he was, but there would be little they could do about it, or so he believed at that moment.
Lions at Dawn (Kirov Series Book 28) Page 28