“Conn, Sonar. Passing over the Russian torpedo.”
Michigan’s spherical array sonar, mounted in the bow, could no longer hear the torpedo’s end-of-run pinger. The transmissions were now blocked by Michigan’s long steel hull.
“Helm, all stop,” Bradley ordered. “Back full. Dive, prepare to hover at one-five-zero feet.”
The Quartermaster marked the spot they’d lost the pinger as the Helm rung up the backing bell. Once initial conditions were established, the Diving Officer ordered the Chief of the Watch to engage hovering.
Michigan continued to slow, and when it approached zero knots, Bradley ordered, “Helm, all stop.”
Michigan coasted to a halt, hovering at one-five-zero feet.
Wilson left the Control Room, entering the Battle Management Center, where Commander McNeil was present along with several SEALs and Navy divers manning the consoles. Two additional SEALs were standing by — one officer and one enlisted — wearing black dive suits. The officer, Lieutenant Jake Harrison, was one of the two platoon Officers-in-Charge. Unlike most lieutenants, who were in their twenties, Harrison was in his forties. The prior enlisted SEAL had reached the rank of chief before receiving his commission as an officer.
Wilson addressed McNeil. “We’ve located the Russian torpedo. It’s about a hundred yards behind us. We’re ready to deploy when you are.”
McNeil acknowledged and gave the order, and Navy divers and the two SEALs began preparing for the launch.
Lieutenant Harrison and Petty Officer First Class Sam Carver entered the Missile Compartment, stopping by tube One, the first tube on the starboard side. Carver opened the circular hatch and the two men stepped inside the seven-foot-diameter tube. Harrison climbed a steel ladder up two levels as Carver followed, entering the Dry Deck Shelter, bathed in diffuse red light.
The shelter was a conglomeration of three separate chambers: a spherical hyperbaric chamber at the forward end to treat injured divers, a spherical transfer trunk in the middle, which Harrison and Carver had entered, and a long cylindrical hangar section containing the SEAL Delivery Vehicle (SDV), a black mini-sub resembling a fat torpedo — twenty-two feet long by six feet in diameter. The hangar was divided into two sections by a Plexiglas shield dropping halfway down from the top, with the SDV on one side and controls for operating the hangar on the other side.
Harrison stepped into the hangar, which was manned by five Navy divers: one on the forward side of the Plexiglas shield to operate the controls, and the other four in scuba gear on the other side. Carver sealed the hatch behind him, then the two SEALs ducked under the Plexiglas shield, stopping at the forward end of the SDV, which was loaded nose first into the Dry Deck Shelter. The SDV had two seating areas, one in front of the other, each capable of carrying two persons. Instead of two SEALs in the backseat, it was packed with flotation devices they planned to attach to the Russian torpedo, plus two dive lights.
Carver placed one of the dive lights in the front seat of the SDV, then helped Harrison into a rebreather, a closed-circuit breathing apparatus required due to the depth of the dive. Harrison returned the favor. After donning their fins, the two men climbed into the front seat of the SDV. Harrison manipulated the controls and the Barents Sea appeared on the navigation display.
Harrison put his facemask on, as did Carver, then rendered the okay hand signal to the diver on the other side of the Plexiglas shield. Dark water surged into the hangar, gushing up from vents beneath them. The hangar was quickly flooded except for a pocket of air on the other side of the Plexiglas shield, where the Navy diver operated the Dry Deck Shelter. There was a faint rumbling as the circular hatch at the end of the shelter opened, and two divers on each side of the SDV glided toward the chamber opening with a kick of their fins.
The divers pulled rails out onto the submarine’s missile deck, and the SDV was extracted from the hangar. Harrison manipulated the controls and the SDV’s propeller started spinning, and the submersible lifted off its rails. It rose slowly, then moved forward, passing above the Dry Deck Shelter and along the starboard side of Michigan’s sail, cruising over the submarine’s bow into the dark water ahead.
Now that they had exited the steel Dry Deck Shelter, Harrison’s SDV picked up the high-frequency pings from the Russian torpedo. It was behind them; Michigan had passed over it before stopping, so Harrison turned the SDV around as it descended toward the bottom.
CHAPTER 8
THE BARENTS SEA
In Kazan’s Central Command Post, Captain Second Rank Anatoly Mikhailov verified his submarine’s position on the electronic chart, not far from where the torpedo fired during their last exercise had gone to the bottom. They had just entered the two-layer exercise area, with Kazan assigned to the deeper portion. Upon joining Russia’s submarine fleet, Mikhailov had been surprised at how tightly submarine underwater movements were controlled. On the surface, submarines could determine what route to take going from points A to B. Once submerged, however, submarine transits were along specified tracks, and no two submarines were allowed to operate in the same area except during carefully controlled training engagements or transits. In those cases, one submarine would be restricted shallow and the other deep.
The reason for this was the complexity of tracking contacts while submerged. On the surface, radar and the human eye easily conveyed the information required to avoid another ship, but not so underwater. Unlike radar, passive sonar could only determine the direction of the contact, not how far away it was. With only the bearing to the contact, determining its course, speed, and range took time; time during which a contact could approach dangerously close.
It was not uncommon for submarines, particularly during the Cold War, to collide as one trailed the other in a high-tech game of cat and mouse, guessing wrong at what new speed and course the lead submarine had maneuvered to before the crew sorted it out. Even after the Cold War, collisions still occurred. Just to the south, off Kildin Island, an American submarine — USS Baton Rouge—had collided with K-276 Kostroma.
Mikhailov wasn’t worried about American submarines at the moment. His first concern was Alexander, ensuring Kazan stayed within its specified depth stratum as his crew determined a firing solution. They were at Combat Stations, tracking Alexander lurking off Kazan’s starboard beam. The conversations in the command post were subdued and disciplined as they prepared to attack.
Harrison dove the SDV deeper, angling toward the bottom. The faint light from the surface had faded, leaving Harrison and Carver shrouded in darkness aside from the dive light that Carver used to search the water ahead. Harrison checked the depth gauge; they were almost there. A moment later, the bottom of the Barents Sea appeared. The bearing to the torpedo pinger was still straight ahead, so Harrison leveled off the SDV and slowed as Carver searched side to side with the light. On one of the sweeps, the light illuminated a torpedo with a smashed nose lying on the gravelly bottom.
Harrison shifted the propeller into reverse, then cut the engine after the SDV slowed to a halt. After a few taps of the controls, the SDV drifted downward, coming to rest on the bottom. Carver exited the SDV, as did Harrison, who grabbed the second dive light. The two SEALs examined the torpedo. It had remained in one piece, with the only damage being a crushed nose.