After verifying that was the case for all five weapons, Martin reported, “All weapons are in the launch basket. We are Weapons Red and Free.”
As Martin reviewed the weapon impact coordinates, he was surprised they were releasing all five HAAWCs at once with their aim points almost on top of each other. There couldn’t possibly be that many submarines so close together, nor would you want to waste five torpedoes on a single target. Martin looked over at his Communicator’s screen, spotting orders going to twenty of the P-8As aloft. Each had been ordered to drop their entire contingent of weapons. One hundred HAAWCs, all at once. Martin finally realized what they’d been ordered to do.
It was a torpedo version of carpet-bombing, saturating the operating areas with MK 54s.
“Flight, TACCO. Give me bomb bay open, Master Arm On.”
The aircraft shuddered as the bomb bay doors swung open. Martin selected Bay One first, holding his hand over the Storage Release button.
An amber light illuminated on Martin’s console.
“Flight, TACCO. I have a Kill Ready light. Standing by for weapon release.”
“TACCO, Flight. You are authorized to release.”
Martin pressed the Storage Release button for Bays One through Five.
Bombs away.
80
K-456 VILYUCHINSK
Captain First Rank Dmitri Pavlov stopped behind his men seated at the fire control consoles, examining the solutions for the American surface ships ahead. Having launched his twenty-four missiles against two American aircraft carriers, Pavlov had gone deep and ordered his submarine toward the American destroyers and cruisers. If he made it past them, he could bring his six torpedo tubes and twenty-eight torpedoes to bear on the wounded aircraft carriers.
As Pavlov’s submarine approached the American surface combatants, the first indication Vilyuchinsk was in trouble was the report from Hydroacoustic.
“Command Post, Hydroacoustic. Splash detected on bow array, bearing zero-five-zero.”
Before Pavlov could respond, Hydroacoustic reported three more.
“Additional splashes, bearing one-four-zero, two-two-zero, and three-one-zero.”
With four splashes surrounding his submarine, Pavlov realized they’d been boxed in by whatever entered the water. He had a suspicion as to what they were, and Hydroacoustic’s next report confirmed it.
“Torpedo in the water, bearing zero-five-zero!”
Pavlov’s eyes went to the nearest fire control screen as the bearing to each splash appeared. They truly were boxed in; there was nowhere to turn.
“Ahead flank!” Pavlov announced. “Launch torpedo countermeasures.”
Vilyuchinsk’s Watch Officer launched a torpedo decoy, then a moment later a jammer to ensure the torpedoes behind them saw only the decoy and not Vilyuchinsk speeding away. However, there was no good option for the torpedoes in front of them. Vilyuchinsk would loom large and enticing on their sonar returns.
Pavlov decided to turn ninety degrees to starboard. “Steersman, right full rudder, steady course two-seven-zero.” Turning to his Watch Officer, he ordered, “Launch decoy.”
Vilyuchinsk steadied on course, and with the decoy behind him, Pavlov ordered another jammer into the water. Maybe, with the jammer partially obscuring Vilyuchinsk as it sped away, one of the torpedoes would suck up on the decoy.
The torpedo off Vilyuchinsk’s port bow wasn’t fooled, however. It had a clear view of the submarine speeding to the west and altered course to intercept. Additionally, the torpedo off his port stern sniffed out the decoy and went around, locking on to Vilyuchinsk as the submarine attempted to slip away. Likewise, the two torpedoes off Vilyuchinsk’s starboard side correctly identified the small object in the water pretending to be a submarine as a decoy, and went around. One torpedo veered to the east and the other to the west, and the latter torpedo detected the Russian guided missile submarine.
With three torpedoes closing fast, one from each side and one from behind, there was nowhere for Pavlov to turn. Vilyuchinsk was at maximum speed and it was obvious more decoys would be ineffective, nor could his submarine outrun the speedy torpedoes. That left one option.
Ride it out.
The three torpedoes chasing him were lightweight torpedoes, armed with one-sixth the explosive carried by a heavyweight. Vilyuchinsk was a double-hulled submarine, with the outer hull 3.5 meters away from the critical pressure hull in most areas, to handle situations like this.
As the first torpedo homed on Vilyuchinsk, approaching from off its port bow, Pavlov braced for the explosion. It came seconds later, jolting the submarine, but not as severely as he expected. The men in the Central Command Post waited tensely for the report of flooding. But no report came. Pavlov breathed a sigh of relief. They’d weathered the first attack.
There was no doubt the torpedo had torn a gaping hole in the outer hull, with twisted and mangled edges, but that was a small price to pay. Pavlov turned his attention to the next torpedo, this one approaching from starboard. The second jolt felt much like the first, and after a few tense seconds awaiting an emergency report that never came, Pavlov focused on the last torpedo. Vilyuchinsk had decreased speed by two knots; the jagged holes in the submarine’s outer hull were slowing it down. But that didn’t matter. Two knots weren’t going to make a difference.
As the third torpedo approached, Pavlov realized the scenario was different. The first two torpedoes had hit Vilyuchinsk broadside, where the submarine had a full 3.5-meter separation between hulls. However, the third torpedo was approaching from astern, where the outer hull tapered in toward the pressure hull.
“Steersman, hard right rudder!”
Vilyuchinsk’s bow swung toward the torpedo, but it was too late. The third MK 54 detonated as it sensed the magnetic field from the guided missile submarine, and this time, the jolt was followed by an emergency report.
“Flooding in Compartment Nine!”
A hole had been blown in Vilyuchinsk’s pressure hull, and as water surged into the submarine, the lights flickered, indicating the electrical power grid had been shifted to the battery. They’d lost their electrical turbine generators, which meant propulsion would go next. As Pavlov’s Watch Officer tried frantically to ascertain the status of the Engine Room, Vilyuchinsk slowed, and the stern tilted downward.
Pavlov turned to his Compensation Officer, who had lined up the drain pump to the Engine Room and was now blowing the submarine’s variable ballast overboard, increasing Vilyuchinsk’s buoyancy in an effort to offset the water rushing into the submarine.
“Keep us level!” Pavlov ordered. If the submarine upended, all would be lost.
The Compensation Officer opened the valves to Forward Ballast, flooding water back in. But the tank was only so big, and water was surging into the Engine Room faster than the drain pump pushed it back out. Vilyuchinsk’s stern continued sinking, and the submarine’s angle steadily increased to thirty, then forty degrees. At the same time, Vilyuchinsk was getting heavier. They sank through three hundred meters, then four hundred.
Pavlov was again caught in a scenario with no good answer. Continue downward and the submarine would implode. Emergency Blow to the surface, and the Americans would sink them. Still, going up was a better prospect than down, and Pavlov gave the order.