“Oh! Do tell, please,” Jerry asked.
“We mask the left hydrophone set on one module and the right hydrophone set on the other. If we cover the sides facing the gap, we should have about an eight-hundred-yard passage through both the minefield and the sensors.”
In the wardroom, dinner had turned into an extended planning session as they discussed the results of the “glide bombing” trials and worked out a detailed timeline for the complex attack. To Jerry, tracking and engaging a submarine in open water was simple, compared to the precise interlocking steps that would lead to the destruction of the Russian launch facility. Any one of them failing could throw the entire operation off the rails.
Where did Carter have to be when the UUVs started their run? How close should she actually get to the facility? The closer they were, the shorter the time lag between the UCC crew giving a command and the vehicle executing it. What should they do if Belgorod detected them during the approach and reacted aggressively? She had a decent sonar suite, and torpedoes.
One interesting fact came from the sonar officer, LTJG DiMauro. “I’ve had my operators listening to the noise coming from the construction site, to see if they can determine exactly what’s going on. There’s a lot of clanking as metal bangs up against metal, and they are sure they’ve heard pounding, as if a stubborn piece is being shifted into place. That won’t help us, but we’ve found a pattern,” he announced proudly.
By now, most of the sub’s chief petty officers were also present, and the remains of dinner cleared away. He paused dramatically, enjoying the moment, but didn’t push his luck.
“It appears that every eight hours, the transients stop and the broadband noise levels go way down for about fifteen to twenty minutes. It’s been very regular.”
“A shift change for the divers,” Weiss concluded.
Jerry nodded agreement, along with many others.
“It makes sense. They will have as many divers down there as possible to speed the work. At that depth, they have to be in atmospheric diving suits with long air hoses, so they can’t send the next batch down until the other set comes up.”
Weiss smiled. “It’s pitch black down there except for any lights they’ve set up, which will be concentrated wherever they’re working. I’d been wondering about the chance of a diver spotting Walter or José, even if the UUVs are dark-colored. When is the next shift change?”
“There should be one at midnight, 0000 hours, give or take a few minutes,” the sonar officer answered.
“Then that’s where we’ll anchor our timeline. We want the UUVs in position to start surveying a little before then, and as soon as the transients stop, we send them in, followed by torpedoes soon after.”
It had already been a long day. The UUV operators had been constantly busy, and the rest of the crew had been operating at modified general quarters for over twelve hours. Cavanaugh had done nothing more than listen and watch, and he felt worn out.
But he could feel the energy in the room as Weiss gave orders for the final preparations. They’d have to move quickly to take advantage of the window, but there was enough time. And time was against them. Not only did they not know when the Russians would finish their work, but as long as they stayed in Russian waters and close to the island, there was the constant risk of being detected. Better to be done and gone.
USS Jimmy Carter was at general quarters, two nautical miles away from the Toledo gap, pointed south. Six of her tubes were loaded with the modified torpedoes, the other two held standard warshots… just in case. The UCC crew had launched the now fully charged and heavily loaded José and Walter, one right after the other. Both UUVs were now climbing to carefully calculated locations, defined not just in range and bearing, but depth as well. Once they were in position, Carter would slowly accelerate to creep speed, just three knots, and head straight for the center of the passage.
As before, Jerry was in UCC, along with Cavanaugh. If the engineer needed to change the preplanned survey, the commodore wanted the army engineer to be right there.
“In position,” Ford reported to Mitchell. The two UUVs were as stationary as their weight allowed, holding just fifty feet above the bottom and three hundred yards out. Tests had shown that they’d have to start “flaring” at twenty-five feet above the seabed, and would slow to two or three knots as they passed over the hydrophones in a gentle glide. Ford looked over at Jerry, who nodded and gave him thumbs up.
“Commence the UUV run,” Weiss ordered over the circuit.
Lieutenant Ford ordered, “Half speed to the motor.”
“Five knots at level pitch,” Lawson reported a moment later.
The glide bombing approach itself started with a dogleg maneuver. First they had to locate the cable, then start running along it until the imaging sonar saw the hydrophones. Then they’d start the dive. The UUVs detected the cable as expected, and Jerry issued the command to secure the propulsion motors and begin the turn. Watching the nav plot on the display carefully, Jerry waited, counting quietly to himself, then said, “Five degrees down bubble, mark!”
They felt a slight vibration in the deck as Carter’s propulsor pushed her forward.
“José’s at four point five knots,” Lawson reported. Ford followed with Walter’s speed. They were nearing the point where they’d have to pull up into the flare maneuver.
“Conn, Sonar. New contact, Sierra one six, bearing zero one seven, drawing left rapidly!”
What? Jerry pulled up the sonar display, saw a faint, but sharply canted line on the screen, then hit the intercom switch. “Sonar, UCC, what do you hold on Sierra one six?”
“UCC, Sonar. Broadband mostly, very faint narrowband tonals, contact is close aboard!”
Jerry pressed the button for the control room, “Control, UCC, recommend—”
Weiss’s voice cut him off. “UCC, Control, abort, abort! Dump ballast, go to creep speed. Turn both UUVs north, straight away from the barrier!”
The UUV operators got very busy as they abandoned the gliding approach and turned the vehicles sharply northward. They used the built-up speed to get them close to the bottom fast and away from the line of passive acoustic sensors. Cavanaugh saw Jerry’s expression go from alarm to satisfaction. The deck titled slightly as the sub turned to port.
“UCC, Control, changing course to zero eight zero, three knots. Compute UUV course to rendezvous and follow in trail. Setting ultra quiet throughout the boat.”
After that, the intercom was silent, and a hush filled UCC, just a few spoken reports, quietly acknowledged.
After a full minute, everyone seemed to relax, but everyone’s attention remained fixed on the displays.
Jerry had a small, grim smile, and Cavanaugh asked, “That new contact, behind us. Another submarine?”
“Yes,” Jerry nodded, “and it was frickin’ close.”
“How could you tell?”
“Because he popped up suddenly, and the bearing rate — how fast it was changing — was high. A high bearing rate means either the contact’s going fast, or he’s damn close. Since we didn’t hear him a long time ago, that means he’s going slow, ergo very close. And I have a sneaking suspicion I know which boat it is, too.” Jerry then nodded toward the intercom.