Sonar had picked up the Yasen class submarine, and Tolbert’s crew had monitored its approach toward Michigan. Once the Russian Captain’s intentions became clear, Tolbert had manned Battle Stations and determined a firing solution. With his submarine a sitting duck, Tolbert would normally not have engaged, since counterfire from the Russian submarine would have resulted in the destruction of his submarine. However, he couldn’t stand by as Michigan was sunk, plus he was optimistic the Russian Captain would have insufficient time to counterfire. The Yasen class submarine had maneuvered close to North Dakota, and Tolbert’s torpedo, closing at High One speed, would hopefully detonate before the Russian crew could respond.
Tolbert watched his outbound weapon merge onto the bearing of Sierra one, which was less than a thousand yards away from the torpedo now.
He called out, “Command Enable tube One. Shift speed to High Two.”
His Weapons Officer complied, transmitting the new orders over the torpedo’s guidance wire. Not long thereafter, the Sonar Supervisor reported the expected indications.
“Own ship’s unit has gone active. Increasing speed to High Two.”
A few seconds later, the Weapons Officer called out, “Detect!” followed almost immediately by, “Homing!”
North Dakota’s torpedo was performing well, but Tolbert decided to prepare another one just in case.
“Firing Point Procedures, Sierra one, tube Two.”
“Incoming torpedo is homing, bearing two-seven-zero!”
Buffanov’s thoughts went in several directions, but he settled on the two most important issues: evading the incoming torpedo and counterfiring.
“Eject torpedo decoy!”
The Watch Officer complied, ejecting a decoy into the water, and Buffanov focused on increasing speed, putting distance between his submarine and the decoy. Unfortunately, Severodvinsk was still operating on the electric drive, which was capable of only ten knots.
“Steersman, shift propulsion to the main engines!”
It would take a minute to complete the shift, and in the meantime, Buffanov prepared to counterfire. Although Severodvinsk had ten torpedo tubes, only two were 533-millimeter ones loaded with torpedoes designed to kill submarines. The torpedoes in both tubes were assigned to Hydroacoustic four-nine, and Buffanov needed a torpedo to fire to the west.
He called out, “Cancel Fire, Hydroacoustic four-nine. Prepare to Fire, tube One, bearing two-seven-zero.”
His crew responded quickly, canceling the solutions sent to the two torpedoes and sending a new firing bearing to the torpedo in tube One. However, precious time was lost resetting the torpedo’s guidance system. Through the submarine’s hull, Buffanov heard the faint sonar pings from the incoming torpedo, growing louder.
The Weapons Officer finally announced the torpedo in tube One was ready to fire. As Buffanov issued the command, his order was drowned out by an explosion that jolted Severodvinsk and knocked him to the deck. A geyser of ice-cold water surged into the Command Post from the level below, shooting up the access ladder and ricocheting off bulkheads and consoles. The wail of the Flooding Alarm filled Buffanov’s ears, followed by emergency reports detailing flooding in Compartments Two and Three.
As Buffanov watched the ocean pour into his submarine, he realized there was little he could do; the flooding was beyond the capacity of their drain pumps, and an Emergency Blow with two flooded compartments would do no good, even if they hadn’t been under the ice.
Severodvinsk was going to the bottom.
Buffanov’s submarine tilted downward and increased speed as it descended. Buffanov struggled to his feet, fighting against the water surging into the Command Post, already waist high. As he clung to the starboard periscope barrel, he glanced at the digital depth detector. Its glowing red numbers increased as Severodvinsk plummeted toward the bottom.
With a jarring impact, water and men surged forward as the attack submarine’s bow plowed into the ocean floor. The screech of twisting metal filled Buffanov’s ears as Severodvinsk’s bow crumpled like paper-mache. The Flooding Alarm, which had fallen silent a moment earlier, wailed again, this time followed by a report of flooding in Compartment One. With flooding on both sides of Compartment Two, Buffanov and his men in the compartment were trapped. As the water level rose above his shoulders, he realized there would be no escape.
99
“Explosion in the water, bearing one-six-zero.”
Wilson acknowledged Sonar’s report, but in the complex under-ice environment, what he didn’t know was whether North Dakota’s torpedo had homed on the Russian submarine or a nearby ice keel. Sonar’s next report provided the answer.
“Mechanical transient, bearing one-six-one, consistent with bottom impact.”
The immediate threat had been eliminated. However, Michigan had been attacked by a second Russian submarine, and a third might arrive soon. The reason for the first attack was clear; the Akula Captain was trying to stop Michigan’s SEALs from interfering. But why had the second Russian Captain attacked? To avenge the Akula? Wilson then recalled the Yasen Captain had fired two torpedoes and both had exploded. The other torpedo hadn’t hit North Dakota, so what had it hit?
Petty Officer Malocsay looked up as Wilson stopped by his console and examined the bearings to the second torpedo. Wilson directed Malocsay, “Give me an estimated course for a fifty-knot torpedo at a range of three thousand yards.
Malocsay adjusted the scale of electronic speed strip to fifty knots, lining up each bearing with the appropriate time. He finally got a perfect fit and looked up as Wilson’s eyes narrowed. The torpedo course passed directly over Yury Dolgoruky.
100
In the bitterly cold compartment, Christine peered through the portal in the watertight door, watching Brackman’s body disappear in the murky water. It had happened too fast; she had pushed the door shut, sealing Brackman to his fate. She remained at the door, staring into the darkness as her grief broke, tears falling from her cheeks, her sobs echoing in the deserted submarine. She began shivering, and it took a moment before she realized her predicament.
Hypothermia was setting in. The wet clothing and the twenty-nine-degree temperature were sucking the heat from her body. She wiped the tears away and shifted her focus from Brackman’s death to her own survival. She needed dry clothing. A quick examination of the compartment revealed auxiliary machinery. She pointed her flashlight forward, spotting an open watertight door leading to another compartment.
She was in the seventh of nine compartments. Compartments Eight and Nine behind her were flooded, as were Compartments Two and Three, leaving Compartments Four through Six to explore. If ONI intel was correct, Compartment Six contained the reactor, and Compartment Five was the missile compartment. She prayed Compartment Four contained crew berthing, where she might find something dry to change into. Her bare hands were already numb.
She moved quickly through the watertight doorway and found herself in a long passageway, which she presumed was the Reactor Compartment Tunnel. She continued into the next compartment, where two rows of missile tubes stretched into the darkness.