“That does sound like an interesting theory, sir,” said the navigator carefully.
“It’s way beyond theory, lad,” countered Eastbrook. “It’s fact, pure and simple. And I’m willing to bet the lives of all aboard the Queen that a circumspect approach into the liner’s baffles will result in the detection of an unwanted underwater trespasser lurking below her hull.
If we hurry, we can even eliminate it in time to let our Yank friends aboard the Polk get on with the task of retaking the Queen. So chart me the most efficient approach to the big lady, lad. It’s time for Talent to earn her keep!”
42
To show his support of the Lijiang’s captain, Guan could think of no better gesture than to don one of the white robes himself. It was shortly after Lee’s clever maneuver resulted in the sinking of the two enemy subs that Guan excused himself from the control room to track down the quartermaster. Guan found him in the supply office, and the commissar was very fortunate to get the last available robe in stock.
The robe proved to be several sizes too small, but this didn’t stop Guan from wearing it. With a white cotton sash tied around his bulging waist, he returned to the control room, anxious to see what the captain’s next move would be.
Their sensors showed that one more submarine had to be eliminated before they’d have these depths all to themselves. Guan had personally heard that vessel’s unique sonic signature during a stop in sonar. The sonar officer in charge had explained that the barely audible whistling sounds Guan’s headphones were conveying were the results of seawater streaming through the contact’s numerous free-flood holes. The existence of these holes indicated that the submarine had some type of protrusion on its deck. This was most likely an external dry-deck shelter, meaning that the warship was probably the USS James K. Polk, a U. S. Navy submarine designed specifically for special operations. The Polk, and the SEAL team it carried, would be the perfect warship to send along on an escort mission of this sort.
With the identity of their opponent all but assured, they were well on their way to formulating a plan to sink it. To hear this strategy firsthand, Guan entered the control room with hurried steps. The candle was still flickering alive on the periscope pedestal where Captain Lee stood bathed in the compartment’s muted red light, “So Comrade Commissar, you’ve decided to become at one with the Way,” observed Lee, as he watched the newcomer take up his usual position beside the firecontrol console.
Guan could see that with his donning of the robe, every single sailor inside the control room was now similarly attired, and he responded with pride. “It’s an honor to be part of this remarkable team, comrade.”
“It’s much more than a team,” explained Lee. “It’s a way of life that has been a part of China since her earliest days. For too many years, our ancestors neglected its call, and the motherland floundered, soulless, and without inner direction. It took the ascension of the Chairman to resurrect the long-dormant spirit, and as a result, our great People’s Republic was born. And now it’s up to the Lijiang to insure that the forces of doubt and greed don’t prevail. China has come too far, made too many sacrifices, to give in to temptation, now that our goal is so near.”
“Well said, comrade,” replied Guan. He looked at the ceiling, as if peering up through the hull to the waters above.
“From that distant rumbling roar, it’s obvious that the surface vessel holding China’s number-one enemy remains close by. Now that the QE2 is approaching the Hecate Seamount sector, shouldn’t we be hearing from Comrade Liu shortly?”
“I have no doubt that Liu has succeeded in his difficult task,” said the captain. “He is a fellow student of the Way, and my own blood cousin.
But before we can even think about our operation’s next phase, one vital obstacle needs to be attended to — the elimination of the special forces submarine, USS James K. Polk.
“The Polk remains off our starboard bow. The Lijiang continues to be masked by the QE2’s signature. We have used this cover well, and now is the time to reinitiate our climb up the twisting mountain path to victory.”
Lee lapsed into silence at this point. He turned to face the helm. He shut his eyes, and began breathing in deep, even breaths.
Guan was getting used to this preparatory routine that acted as a type of joint meditation, uniting their wills as one. He was thus quick to follow the examples of his shipmates, as they also shut their eyes and listened to Lee’s forceful voice.
“Make one’s body like a rock, and ten thousand enemies can’t touch you.
Prepare yourselves, comrades, to strike yet another blow in the preservation of the motherland!”
Guan’s pulse quickened in anticipation of the attack order that would soon be coming. As he struggled to regulate his breath, a hollow pinging sound suddenly filled the control room. The source of this alien noise was revealed by their frantic sonar officer.
“Active sonar scan, emanating from an unidentified submerged contact, bearing two-one-zero and rapidly closing!”
“But that can’t be!” retorted Lee, whose eyes snapped open to scan the gauges of the diving-control panel.
Guan also opened his eyes, his heart pounding. He looked on with concerned disbelief as the captain’s astounded expression displayed the first hint of rising fear.
“Right full rudder! All ahead flank! Prepare tubes one and two for quick shots, targeting both the Polk and the unwelcome stranger in our baffles!”
Guan listened as the diving officer repeated Lee’s frantic series of orders. He reached up to grab an overhead hand hold as the Lijiang canted over hard on her starboard side, with the deep, bass rumble of her engines now overriding that of the QE2.
“Tubes one and two ready for firing, Captain,” revealed the weapons officer at Guan’s side.
“Fire one!” ordered Lee. “Fire two!”
The deck shook twice as the torpedoes shot out of their tubes, pushed out into the sea by a powerful blast of compressed air. All eyes went to the weapons officer as he nervously scanned his console’s display screens and excitedly cried out:
“Both torpedoes have gone active with weapon number one directed to the Polk, and number two toward the contact behind us. Time to contact, two minutes and counting.”
“We’ve got them now!” proclaimed Lee, whose eyes widened with a maniacal fury as the amplified voice of the sonar officer broke out from the overhead speakers.
“Torpedo in the water, Captain! I show a single, wire guided weapon approaching from bearing two-one-zero!”
“Left full rudder!” ordered Lee in response to this warning. “Prepare to launch full spread of countermeasures! And where’s that flank speed, Chief? It’s time to run like the fox, comrades!”
43
It all started soon after the Folk’s towed array tagged Sierra Four closing in on the QE2’s baffles. Jaffers had been the first one to tag the Talent, and Brad Bodzin quickly switched the feed of his headphones to focus solely on the sounds being conveyed through the array.
No sooner did he isolate the Royal Navy submarine than the deafening burst of an active sonar pulse filled his headphones with painful sound.
Bodzin cursed this unexpected sonic lashing, whose source was definitely the Talent.
Bodzin was unable to explain why the Brits had gone active in this manner. Then he heard the hollow ping deflect off an unidentified submerged object lying in the depths almost directly below the QE2.