He announced, “All stations, Command Post. Proceeding to periscope depth.”
Vilyuchinsk tilted upward, rising toward the ocean’s surface as Pavlov kept his face pressed to the attack periscope. Despite the crowded Central Command Post, it was quiet as the submarine rose from the deep toward periscope depth. Pavlov couldn’t keep the periscope raised for long; Vilyuchinsk was close to the American destroyers and cruisers, and their periscope detection radars would identify a scope if it remained up for too long.
Pavlov announced, “Periscope clear,” as Vilyuchinsk settled out at periscope depth at a speed of five knots to minimize the wake created by their periscope. After several sweeps to verify there were no combatants close enough to pose an immediate threat, Pavlov searched the horizon for his targets, pressing the red button on the periscope handle twice, sending the bearings to fire control.
Pavlov lowered the scope, announcing, “No close contacts.”
Close was a relative term, as the American surface combatants were a few thousand meters to the southeast. In the distance, Pavlov had detected two gray specks on the horizon. Two of the American aircraft carriers. The other two carriers were farther back, undetectable visually at this range. However, two targets would suffice.
Pavlov checked the bearing to the two aircraft carriers, then announced, “Prepare to fire, full missile salvo, twelve missiles to each contact. Set arming range at ten thousand meters.” Pavlov needed to ensure the Granit missiles enabled after they passed over the American cruisers and destroyers, not before.
The Missile Officer acknowledged and prepared to launch Vilyuchinsk’s surface attack missiles, each one armed with a warhead weighing almost one ton. It wouldn’t take many hits to seriously damage the American aircraft carriers.
“All missiles are energized,” reported a watchstander seated at one of the fire control consoles. A moment later, he added, “All missiles have accepted target bearing.”
“Open all missile hatches,” Pavlov ordered.
The hatches lining the submarine’s port and starboard sides retracted.
The Missile Officer reported, “All missile hatches are open. Ready to fire, full missile salvo.”
Pavlov surveyed the tactical situation and the readiness of his submarine one final time, then gave the order.
“Fire.”
Red icons appeared on Captain Sites’s display, almost on top of the task force’s cruiser and destroyer screen. As the red icons moved swiftly toward the center of the American task force, he realized there was insufficient time for the cruisers and destroyers to target and launch their SM-2 missiles and destroy the inbound weapons before they reached Truman. As the icons moved across the screen, they split into two groups, twelve missiles targeting Reagan and twelve heading toward Truman. Sites turned to his Tactical Action Officer.
“Shift SSDS to auto.”
The TAO acknowledged, then shifted Truman’s SSDS — Ship Self Defense System — to automatic. The SSDS would assign contacts to their Sea Sparrow and Rolling Airframe missiles, then target any leakers with their CIWS Gatling guns. It was out of Sites’s hands. All he could do was watch.
The TAO called out, “Inbound missiles. Brace for impact!”
Sites reached up and grabbed on to an I-beam, watching as the SSDS automatically targeted the inbound missiles. It all happened in a matter of seconds. Sea Sparrow and Rolling Airframe missiles were launched in succession, taking out six of the inbound missiles, and the CIWS system engaged next, taking out three more.
Three missiles made it through and Sites felt the ship shudder when the missiles hit. On the damage control status board, red symbols on the carrier’s port side marked each missile impact and damage radius. Thankfully, the Hangar Deck hadn’t been penetrated, nor was the carrier’s Island superstructure damaged. Fires raged in three compartments, but Truman had survived the missile onslaught relatively unscathed.
Reagan, however, didn’t fare as well. One of the screens on the Video Wall switched to a real-time feed from one of the F/A-18 tankers refueling the task force’s combat air patrol. In the darkness, flames leapt skyward from USS Ronald Reagan, illuminating the water’s surface an orange hue.
It wasn’t long before the TAO announced, “Reagan has terminated flight ops.”
Sites wasn’t surprised. Reagan’s crew would have their hands full for a while, battling to get the fires under control. In the meantime, things would get busier aboard Truman and the other two carriers, with Reagan’s aircraft aloft looking for a new home.
Sites returned his attention to the Common Operational Picture on his display, fusing all sensor data. More red U-shaped icons, representing Russian submarines, had appeared in the Bravo ASW tier. If they were guided missile submarines, the remaining MH-60Rs would arrive too late to prevent them from launching. The situation was deteriorating rapidly.
The ASW Commander reached the same conclusion, and Sites listened to his orders over the speaker as he called in the cavalry.
79
PELICAN ZERO-EIGHT
The P-8A Poseidon aircraft, call sign Pelican zero-eight, cruised at twenty thousand feet, high above and well behind the American task force. Normally, anti-submarine warfare platforms wouldn’t be so far from the action, but the VP-45 Pelican submarine-hunter aircraft was a modified Boeing 737-800ERX, the replacement for the venerable P-3C Orion. Cruising at a high altitude and distance from the enemy helped keep the new P-8As out of harm’s way. Plus, with the new weapons they carried, they didn’t need to descend to less than a thousand feet and be right on top of the target to drop their torpedo.
Seated in Pelican zero-eight’s cabin with four other operators at their consoles, Lieutenant Commander John Martin, the crew’s Tactical Coordinator, or TACCO, monitored the status of the five weapons in the aircraft’s bomb bay. In each bomb stow was a HAAWC — High Altitude ASW Weapon Capability — a MK 54 torpedo with a wing kit. Once the torpedo was ejected, the HAAWC’s wings would pop out and guide the torpedo, changing its descent angle and course as required, aiming for a GPS coordinate in the ocean.
Although the P-8A didn’t have cabin windows, Martin knew that in the distance there were seven squadrons of the Navy’s new Poseidon aircraft, each aircraft loaded with five HAAWCs. As Martin wondered whether their weapons would be called into service, launch orders were received by Martin’s Communicator, seated beside him.
The aim point coordinates were transferred to Martin’s console, and he spoke into his headset, informing the pilots and other operators of the pending launch.
“All stations, TACCO. Set Battle Condition One. Coordinates have been received for all five torpedoes.”
Each member of the crew, from the pilots to the Sensor Operators, pulled out their weapon release checklists, methodically accomplishing each step. As a P-3C TACCO, Martin would have calculated the Release Points — the locations where the aircraft would drop its free-falling torpedo ordnance. However, that was no longer necessary, since HAAWCs could fly to their destination, as long as they had enough glide path.