Jerry quickly leaned over the supervisor’s shoulder and looked at the two contacts. Their narrowband profiles were indistinguishable, acoustic twins. Checking their speed, he saw that both contacts were at fifteen knots; there was no clear way to tell Chakra from the decoy she’d just launched. Surprised, Jerry turned to Samant and Petrov, who’d joined him at the sonar displays. Both men examined the side-by-side display of the two signatures. Neither one could tell them apart.
“It’s a perfect replicate,” said Samant, astonished.
“Looks like a later-model decoy, either an MG-104 or MG-114,” concluded Petrov. Turning to Samant, he remarked, “I didn’t know we had sold these to the Indian Navy.”
“I had two during the war. Never got a chance to use one, though. The signature simulation is simply amazing!”
“Senior Chief,” interrupted Jerry. “Make sure you’re recording the data. We’ll examine it more closely later.”
“Skipper,” called Thigpen. “Own ship’s unit has enabled. Slowing to forty knots. It’s searching.”
“Incoming torpedo has gone active!” squawked the intercom. Chief Petty Officer Patil’s voice was strained. The acoustic intercept receiver echoed the dire report.
“Bearing drift!?” demanded Jain.
“Nearly zero!” Patil yelled.
“Number One, deploy countermeasures!” Jain then counted to ten and barked out more orders. “Helmsman, starboard twenty, steer zero four zero, full ahead. Sonar stand by to go active on the main hull array.”
Two more cylinders popped out from Chakra’s hull, and as soon as the seawater-activated batteries were brought up to power, the devices began shrieking like banshees. The Mark 48 torpedo had initially been in a quandary. It had two valid targets, one to the left, and the other to the right. Which one to home in on? Suddenly, the right-hand target disappeared behind a wall of sound. Seeing only one valid target, the torpedo veered left and began range gating, homing in on the decoy.
“More countermeasures, Skipper. Sierra eight seven is the contact to the left, bearing two one zero,” announced the sonar supervisor.
Jerry looked down at the command display and then up at the starboard VLSD; the countermeasure symbol was blinking near Chakra’s last reported position. He also saw the torpedo begin tacking to the left, toward the decoy. They’d missed again.
“This is starting to get old,” he grumbled. The hull array was completely blinded by the noise from the acoustic jammers, but the towed array still had a tenuous lock. The jammer didn’t have a lot of power at the lower frequencies. He’d just switched back to the narrowband display on the command workstation when Senior Chief Halleck shouted out, “Possible target zig, Sierra eight seven. Contact has turned toward us and is increasing speed.”
Jerry wasn’t quite as fast as his leading sonarman, and it took him a few more seconds to verify that Chakra had indeed maneuvered again. Still, Jain’s maneuvers showed he wasn’t confident about his estimates of North Dakota’s position. That meant Jerry still held the advantage. An advantage he intended to exploit. “XO, get me a new firing solution, pronto!”
“Aye, aye, sir,” replied Thigpen, watching one of the displays. It was clear the Indian Akula was changing course and speed. That she was turning toward them was beyond question, but what would her final course and speed be? Recalling Jerry’s admonition, he gave the operator an initial “best guesstimate” for the computer to chew on. “Put in course zero five zero, speed thirty-three knots and see if the machine barfs.”
After a minute of data, it was apparent that the solution was off. With a few adjustments for a more northerly course, and a slightly higher speed the TMA solution seemed to hang together. The contact was closing; the range was down to about seven thousand yards.
“Skipper, I have an initial firing solution. It’s up on the starboard VLSD,” said Thigpen.
In looking at the fruits of Thigpen’s labors, Jerry became more and more perplexed. Chakra was pointed, more or less, in the right direction and was ramping up to high speed. “What is he doing?” whispered Jerry. Then, looking at Samant, he added, “He’s going too fast, and we’re in the towed array’s forward end fire beam. He won’t be able to track us at all!”
Samant shook his head. Jain was either impatient or afraid; he was trying to force the issue. “He’s attempting to charge into a position so he can use his active sonar to get a good solution. He doesn’t feel confident firing on the sparse towed-array data.”
“But in this water, a Skat-3 sonar will sound like a kettledrum in an empty closet. The reverberation will be horrendous,” Jerry observed.
“Agreed, Captain, but if he can get close enough, it could still work.”
Jerry pulled up the line-of-sight diagram and looked at the range rate. Chakra was closing, but slowly, about 330 yards every minute. Facing Samant, he pointed to the diagram and said, “Jain’s guessing. He’s not sure where we are.”
“I concur, Captain. I believe he’s trying to run down the bearing from your last torpedo, but I don’t think he’s factored in the effects of the decoy on the torpedo’s course — his estimate will be off.” Samant looked pained as he spoke; then he began to fidget. It looked like he was mentally arguing with himself. Finally, he just spit the words out. “Captain, I request that you transmit the recording I made.”
Astonished by the appeal, Jerry looked Samant straight in the eyes. “Captain, we’ve exchanged weapons fire. Do you seriously believe he’ll respond positively to your message? Assuming of course he can even hear it.”
“Honestly, I do not know. But it’s something we haven’t tried yet. You have his complete and undivided attention, and a little time before you have to shoot another weapon. I’m just asking that you try.” Samant’s face and voice were strained with emotion. He desperately wanted to try anything that could save his crew. Glancing over at Petrov, Jerry saw him nod in agreement.
Rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Jerry weighed Samant’s plea. He was right, they had a little time, but it also meant transmitting — putting a string of strong acoustic pulses into the water. But even if the Indian crew couldn’t understand what was being said, they’d sure as hell get a good bearing. Jerry would be voluntarily giving up his advantage. Sighing loudly, he turned his head toward the sonar watchstanders and said, “Senior Chief, transmit Captain Samant’s message over the main active array. Point it directly at Chakra.”
The sonar supervisor initially balked as he struggled to comprehend the order. But a quick look at his CO’s face removed any doubt. “Aye, aye, sir. Transmit Captain Samant’s message.” Halleck’s fingers worked hesitantly over the keyboard, and after a brief moment, he hit the last one and reported, “Transmitting.”
Jerry saw Thigpen’s disbelieving expression and raised his hand, signaling his XO to wait. Thigpen turned back toward the fire control consoles, whispering softly, “This will get interesting.”
“Central post. I’m picking up what sounds like a UWC transmission, bearing red zero one zero. It’s in the direction of the American submarine,” Patil declared, not quite convinced that he had heard correctly.
Jain and Rakash looked at each other with utter bewilderment. Why would the American be trying to contact them? He’d already fired three torpedoes at them, what purpose could there be in attempting to communicate? Before Jain could respond, Patil’s voice came over the intercom again.