“Fish, two point one kilometres. Impact in one minute.” Wait, wait thought Luke.
“Fish one point three kilometres. Impact forty five seconds.” Ratty’s voice had a quiver now. Luke counted down.
“Release countermeasures. Flood one and two. Planesman, emergency dive. Maximum revs.
Weps, dance the Lure.”
In this mode, the streaming Lure attempts to confuse the torpedo's passive sonar by emitting simulated submarine noise, such as propeller and engine noise, which is more attractive than the boat to the torpedo's sensors.
“The Lure’s dancing Sir.”
The boat’s deck tilted down at an alarming angle and people hung on to whatever they could. The two noisemakers emitted sounds like a submarine running at full speed and blew out clouds of bubbles to confuse the torpedo’s sonar. Holy Ghost’s prop spun fast and the vibration throbbed throughout the boat.
“Impact, twenty seconds. Fifteen seconds. It’s going to port, the fish is going for a noisemaker.” A tremendous booming rumble sounded and the boat shook violently, then lurched to starboard. The rumble subsided, the control room crew looked around at each other. They were still here. Luke picked up the communications handset.
“Damage control report.”
“We’re inspecting now Sir.”
“Blow one and two. Make your depth one twenty, speed fifteen knots.”
“One twenty at fifteen aye Sir.”
“Ratty, is the Lure still functional?” There was a pause.
“Yes Sir, the diagnostic checks out.”
“Then get looking for the Siyah Bambak. She’s out there ahead of us. I want Tango two on the bottom of the Red Sea now.” The Black Shark was now the hunted one, a Ghost was coming for her.
Chapter 5
“WEPS, GET TUBE ONE loaded with a Spearfish.”
“Aye Sir.” It was down to Ratty now, where is Tango two? Ratty adjusted his scope, patterns formed on the screen as he tried different frequencies.
“Conn Sonar, I request a coast.”
“Disengage drive.” The boat fell silent and slid through the dark deeps, listening. Finally, Ratty looked up and turned to Luke, a frown on his face framed by the white anti-flash hood.
“She’s not there Sir. There’s nothing, Tango two’s gone.”
“She could be coasting Sir,” said the Exec, “we could always try an active ping.” Luke pursed his lips. “That’s a double-edged sword. We’ll broadcast our position and he’d probably try to stuff a type sixty five down our throat,” Luke shook his head, “that’s a quiet bastard out there. The bloody black hole. I’ll bet he’s going south, slowly, quietly. Get out of the way and into the Gulf of Aden. He’ll be a bastard to catch there.”
“Weapons,” said Savita. “Two new countermeasures loaded. Tube one ready in all respects, the fish is hungry.”
The boat’s intercom sounded. “Damage control Sir, the hull’s sound, minor damage to two water feed pipes. Back aft monkeys… sorry Sir, engineers are working on it.”
“Exec. I’m going to bet he’s south bound, we’ll do a zig zag search at six knots west-southwest on the first leg returning east-south east, keeping the Lure streamed out. We’ll make our way southwards, we have to find that bugger.” The Lure’s array sonar was more effective when streamed straight outwards and less effective in a turn.
“Planesman come to two four zero, speed six knots.”
“Two four zero at six aye Sir.”
The Ghost started her trawl south-west, then south-east searching, listening for the stealthy Kilo. After forty minutes of searching. Savita turned to her Captain. "Sir. I’d like to check the countermeasures. If that’s OK?”
“Yes fine, they’re the new model four type aren’t they?”
“Yes, It’ll be the first time we’ve used them,” her eyes smiled, “if we have to that is.”
“I’ll take a look with you, Exec you have the conn.” Mark Davis gave Luke what might have been a faint smirk.
“I have the conn, Sir.”
Luke followed Savita back aft down the companionway, they both removed their white anti-flash hoods. He did his best trying to keep his eyes straight ahead and away from her swaying rear. They reached the port launch tube, she opened it and pulled out the cylindrical canister, resting it on its loading frame. She opened up a cover and checked the settings on the panel.
“What are you checking for?”
“I’m checking the activation sequence, these are more flexible than……” Luke didn’t listen too closely, she knew her job. He spent more time looking at her gorgeous deep black brown eyes and the soft curve of her lips. God, she’s a stunner. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but he wasn’t needed in the control room and he just had to.
“… and it all looks fine Sir.” Savita looked up at him and paused, for perhaps a little longer than she should. She smirked, it turned slowly into a coy smile, then a beaming knockout smile. Luke had to do the same. She moved perceptibly closer, then caution got the better of her and she pulled back and slid the countermeasure back into its launcher. She moved over to the starboard launcher, casting a searching, concerned glance back over her shoulder. He didn’t want to leave but he knew he had to.
“I’d better get back to control Lieutenant Commander.”
“Yes Sir, I won’t be long.” He turned and made his way forward. You’re on thin ice there, he told himself, be bloody careful you idiot.
Savita removed the tube and pulled out the countermeasure. I went too far, she thought, I went too damn far. He is the Captain, she reminded herself for perhaps the two hundredth time on the patrol. She shook her head. You stupid, stupid girl.
BACK IN THE CONTROL room Luke checked their position on the chart. Bloody hell, twenty kilometres west-southwest of Perim Island, virtually in the Gulf of Aden, let’s face it we are in the Gulf of Aden. He knew the Kilo hadn’t been found but he had to ask, it was one of his greatest faults and greatest strengths. To hope against hope.
“Ratty?”
“Sorry Sir, a few transients now and then, but when I try to resolve them, they’re just a biologic.” By that, Ratty meant a Whale, a biological creature.
“OK Ratty keep it up, let me know if you need a coast.” The Ghost headed one way then the other all the time moving gradually south, Ratty was getting increasingly frustrated. The Kilo still eluded them, like a faint myth of the seas.
SIYAH BAMBAK HAD TURNED to the east, she’d picked up suspected transients that could have been the British boat but they weren’t conclusive. The Soviet sonar library had identified the contact as a Trafalgar class boat. Her Commander had no illusions that the enemy had given up, he knew their nature, they wouldn’t give up until they had to. As they reached the rendezvous position, he called for a quiet rise to periscope depth. Quietly, slowly the boat reached the shallows. Siyah Bambak raised her periscope and waited. There right on time came her allies. He thumbed the lever and switched on the scope light, flashing a signal to the lead ship.
“CAPTAIN, BRIDGE WATCH here. Signal light to the forward starboard quarter.” Captain Hijazi made his way to the bridge, picked up binoculars and looked out to sea, there low in the water was a flashing light. He recognised the stream of flashes in Persian requesting an acknowledgement.
“Signalman, reply and take down the message.”
“Yes, Sir.” He acknowledged the signal and took down a series of flashes. “Sir, authentication codes match the Siyah Bambak.” The signalman wrote down the rest of the message and passed it to his Captain. Captain Hijazi turned grey, he slammed his fist down onto the chart table.