“Central post. The transmission is in Hindi!”
Now Jain was really curious. He acknowledged the bizarre report and then went to the sonar shack; he had to hear this transmission for himself.
Patil was waiting with a set of headphones in his right hand. “It appears to be a recorded message, sir, as it is being repeated.”
Jain put on the headphones and listened. The reception was extremely poor, owing to Chakra’s high speed and the shallow water, but the voice was most definitely speaking in Hindi. He couldn’t understand much of the transmission, it warbled and broke up often, but he did make out the words “Dhankhar,” “illegal,” and “return.” The voice also sounded strangely familiar, but the distortion made it difficult to pin down.
The Indian captain pulled the headset off and handed it back to the sonar chief. He struggled to understand the message and its meaning. Then Jain remembered Vice Admiral Dhankhar warning him that several foreign governments had discovered the plan. Could the United States be one of them? Were they trying to deceive him now, as they seemed unable to sink him? Then Jain recalled his orders; the attack on the Chinese ports was the first act in an elaborate strategy by the Indian military to defeat Pakistan once and for all. Chakra’s pivotal role in the plan stiffened his resolve.
While Jain was trying to make heads or tails of the transmission, Patil hit him with an unthinkable question: “Sir, didn’t that voice sound like Captain Samant’s?”
Anger suddenly flooded Jain. The very thought of their former captain cooperating with India’s enemies was blasphemous. “Mind your bearing, Chief! I will not tolerate any insult of our old CO. Lash that bearing with the main hull array and get me something to shoot on!”
Still seething, Jain returned to central post. Rakash could see something was dreadfully wrong, but before he could even ask the speaker squawked again. “Central post, weak return bearing red zero zero six, range five thousand two hundred meters.”
“Stand by for torpedo attack. Open bow caps on tubes four and five,” thundered Jain. Rakash moved quickly to follow his captain’s orders.
Leaning over Lieutenant Kirit’s shoulders, Jain blurted, “We’ll bracket the bearing! Set tube four to course zero two five, and tube five to zero four zero! High speed, minimal enable run!”
“Bow caps on tubes four and five are open, sir,” cried Rakash.
“Torpedo course set,” Kirit called out.
Jain stood with an unwavering air, paused for a few seconds, and then shouted, “Fire!”
The WLY-1 acoustic intercept receiver’s chirping beat Senior Chief Halleck’s warning by a second or two. “Sierra eight seven has gone active. Skat-3 transmissions bearing two one five.”
“Secure transmissions,” Jerry ordered. Then, looking at Samant, he said, “I’m sorry, Captain. Jain’s made his choice.” The Indian’s face was burdened with pain, his only response a slight nod.
“Torpedoes in the water!” yelled Halleck. “Same bearing as Sierra eight seven!”
“Execute starburst maneuver to starboard,” snapped Jerry.
“Starburst to starboard, aye, sir,” Thigpen responded. “Countermeasure station, deploy starburst pattern!”
As soon as countermeasure symbols started popping up on the starboard VLSD, Jerry commanded, “Pilot, right full rudder, steady course one three zero!”
The countermeasure pods near North Dakota’s stern launched two stationary sonar jammers just before she started to turn. Now, two mobile jammers were kicked out, heading away from the submarine on reciprocal courses, building a wall of intense sound — essentially a barrier, opaque to any acoustic sensor. Finally, a mobile decoy was deployed and it continued down the course North Dakota had just turned away from — a maneuver that had been completely hidden from the onrushing Chakra.
“Central post, contact has deployed countermeasures, I’ve lost contact,” shouted Patil.
Jain had expected as much. The commander of North Dakota had demonstrated that he was no fool. “What was the last good bearing and range?” he demanded.
“Bearing red zero zero five, range, four thousand eight hundred meters. He was still on course zero six zero at last contact.”
Looking at the Omnibus display, Jain saw that the American was running away from the countermeasure barrier. Excellent, he thought proudly. The salvo should catch him. “Steady on course!” he cried out, smiling.
Two minutes after making the run, Jerry deployed another stationary ADC Mark 5 countermeasure. Between this new addition and the mobile jammer, there was another wall of sound hiding North Dakota from the oncoming UGST torpedoes. The only legitimate target in their field of view would be the mobile decoy that was now running away from the scene at twenty knots.
“Skipper, one of the torpedoes has begun range gating! It’s past CPA and opening, it’s locked on to the decoy!” said Halleck with noticeable relief.
“Gotcha,” Jerry whispered, followed immediately by, “Firing point procedures, Sierra eight seven…”
“Wait, Captain!” howled Samant.
Jerry turned, taken aback by the Indian’s sudden interruption. He looked at the man’s face and saw the tears welling in his eyes.
“Please, Captain, Jerry, allow me to issue the order to fire,” choked Samant. Both Jerry and Petrov looked at him with amazement.
“I appreciate the offer, Captain,” replied Jerry. “But you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you gave the order.”
Samant gave a cynical chuckle, then responded, “I won’t be able to live with myself now as it is, Jerry. But if my crew has to die, then I prefer it be at my hands. An Indian started this nightmare, it’s only proper that an Indian end it.”
Jerry paused, considering Samant’s emotional appeal, then nodded. Turning forward, he announced loudly, “Attention in control, Captain Girish Samant has the conn, Lieutenant Lymburn retains the deck.”
All the stations acknowledged Jerry’s pronouncement and then watched as Samant stepped over to the fire control consoles.
“Which control launches the torpedo?” he asked the fire control technician quietly.
The petty officer looked toward his XO. Thigpen gave a curt nod signaling it was okay. “This one, sir,” answered the young sailor.
Straightening himself, Samant gave the order. His voice was firm and professional. “Stand by torpedo attack, target, INS Chakra, tube three.” Reaching over, he pushed the button and thundered, “Fire!”
“Normal launch, torpedo course, two seven zero, speed four zero knots,” reported the petty officer. He was looking at Samant when he spoke.
The torpedo ran straight out from tube number three to clear itself and the guidance wire from the submarine. It then began a wide turn to the right, its movement screened by the mobile sonar jammer. By the time it had passed in front of the countermeasure field it had already gone active. And once it was past the intense sound barrier, its seeker was pointed straight at Chakra, barely fifteen hundred yards away. The torpedo locked on and began accelerating.
“Torpedo alert! Starboard side!” screeched Patil.