Now came the hard part. An American heavyweight torpedo, fired by submarines, weighed three thousand pounds and the Russian torpedo would be somewhere in that range. Carver dug his hand into the gravelly bottom. It was loose and easily excavated. He retrieved three flotation devices, with floats on each end connected by a cable, unhooking the cable from one device on each. The two SEALs dug three small trenches beneath the torpedo and slid the cables beneath it, reconnecting the three flotation devices on the other side.
Carver activated the flotation devices on the front and back of the torpedo, which filled the floats with carbon dioxide. He then activated the middle one, which was adjustable, inflating both ends to fifty percent. The torpedo remained on the bottom. Carver increased the buoyancy until the torpedo slowly rose. He held it down while Harrison lassoed the tail of the Russian weapon with a nylon rope, tying it to the back of the SDV. Carver released his grip and the torpedo rose slowly until its ascent was halted by the rope.
Satisfied that the weapon was sufficiently buoyant and firmly attached to the mini-sub, Harrison and Carver returned to the SDV. A moment later, it lifted off from the bottom and angled slowly upward, towing the torpedo backwards through the water as they headed toward USS Michigan.
Captain Third Rank Erik Fedorov, Kazan’s First Officer, stood behind two fire control consoles, peering over the shoulders of the two operators. He tapped one man on the shoulder. “Set as Primary.” He complied and Fedorov announced, “Captain, I have a firing solution.”
Mikhailov examined the target parameters. Alexander was eight kilometers off Kazan’s starboard beam, headed west at ten knots. He was about to issue the Prepare to Fire order when he was interrupted by a report over the command post speakers.
“Command Post, Hydroacoustic. Request the Captain’s presence in Hydroacoustic.”
Mikhailov stepped into the adjacent Hydroacoustic center. “What is the issue?”
The Hydroacoustic Party Leader replied, “We have a problem, sir. Shortly after entering our operating area today, we gained the end-of-run pinger from the torpedo we fired at Alexander last week.” He pointed to a sonar trace on the screen — small green blips to the northeast, appearing every ten seconds.
Mikhailov had trouble discerning the problem. Picking up the end-of-run pinger was to be expected. “And…?” he asked.
“It started moving a few minutes ago.”
Mikhailov took a closer look at the track. It had a slight bearing drift. The Hydroacoustic Party Leader continued, “It looks like we’re having another malfunction.”
Kazan’s tactical systems had been significantly modernized compared to the previous Yasen class submarine, Severodvinsk, and there had been numerous bugs and ghost traces as the programmers fixed the defective software. All of the kinks had supposedly been worked out, but apparently not. The extent of the malfunction was what worried Mikhailov. Before he fired one of the new torpedoes loaded aboard this morning, he needed to ensure his solution was accurate. It would not reflect well on him and his crew if the torpedo sped off in an errant direction.
“Do you think a restart will fix it?” Mikhailov asked.
“A warm restart is unlikely to help. If you want to address this, a cold restart is required.”
Mikhailov considered the recommendation. It’d take twenty minutes for a complete cold restart, wiping the memory banks clean and reloading all data and algorithms. Before giving the order, Mikhailov considered the possibility the hydroacoustic system was actually working properly. If so, that meant the torpedo was being retrieved by someone.
“Evaluate all hydroacoustic parameters for additional indications of a malfunction. In the meantime, perform a detailed search in the northeast sector.”
“Conn, Sonar. Gained a new contact on the towed array, designated Sierra five-one, ambiguous bearings one-five-zero and two-one-zero. Analyzing.”
Wilson, seated in the Captain’s chair on the Conn, listened attentively to Sonar’s report. Up to now, everything had gone as planned. Michigan had slipped quietly into the Barents Sea and Sonar had reported that the Russian torpedo’s end-of-run pinger was gaining strength, indicating the SEALs had found it and were hauling it toward Michigan.
Sonar followed up, “Sonar, Conn. Sierra five-one is designated Russian nuclear-powered submarine. Analyzing for class. Also hold a new contact on the towed array, designated Sierra five-two, ambiguous bearings one-four-two and two-one-eight.”
Wilson stood as Lieutenant Bradley acknowledged. To the Officer of the Deck, Wilson ordered, “Man Battle Stations Torpedo silently.”
He’d normally have stationed only the Fire Control Tracking Party, but there was no telling how sensitive the torpedo development project was, nor the measures the Russians would take to prevent one of their new weapons from falling into American hands. The Officer of the Deck dispatched the Messenger of the Watch and LAN Technician to make the rounds through the Operations and Missile compartments, while the Chief of the Watch notified the Engine Room over a sound-powered phone circuit.
With one and possibly two Russian submarines in the area, Wilson would normally have maneuvered aggressively, attempting to keep sufficient distance between Michigan and the Russian submarines while determining each contact’s course, speed, and range. However, Wilson was currently handcuffed. Michigan was hovering at all stop, and could not maneuver until the SEAL SDV had been retrieved into its Dry Deck Shelter.
He entered the Battle Management Center behind the Control Room, stopping beside Commander McNeil. Wilson’s eyes went to one of the video screens, displaying the feed from a camera mounted to Michigan’s sail, looking aft over the two Dry Deck Shelters. The water was faintly illuminated by light filtering from the surface, and there was no indication of the approaching SDV.
“How much longer?” Wilson asked.
“Can’t say for sure,” McNeil replied. “But it shouldn’t be more than another minute or two.”
Not long thereafter, the SDV materialized from the murky water behind USS Michigan with the Russian torpedo in tow. The SDV approached the starboard shelter, gliding over the missile deck before coming to a halt above the rails extended from the shelter. The Russian torpedo clung to the SDV like a balloon, attached to the aft end of the mini-sub.
Slowly, the SDV sank until it rested on the rails. Two divers secured the SDV for retrieval into the starboard shelter, while two other divers and the two SEALs hauled the torpedo down and guided it toward the port DDS, which had more room since it contained two Rigid Hulled Inflatable Boats. The SDV and torpedo were placed inside the shelters, and the nine-foot-diameter hangar doors slowly closed, each one sealing with a faint clank.
“Command Post, Hydroacoustic. Mechanical transients, bearing zero-three-five, on the same bearing as the torpedo end-of-run pinger.” A moment later, Hydroacoustic followed up, “Loss of end-of-run pinger.”
Mikhailov’s features hardened. The torpedo had been hauled aboard a vessel, its end-of-run pinger shielded by the vessel’s hull. There were no surface ships in the area during Kazan’s last trip to periscope depth and Hydroacoustic hadn’t picked up a surface contact since then either. That meant the vessel was a submarine.