"Secondary explosion on this contact-holy shit! Lots of explosions in the water now. Depth charges, maybe, something's really ripping the water up. There's another torpedo-way off, bearing changing right to left."
The display was now too complex for McCafferty to follow. The chief expanded the time scale to allow easier interpretation, but only he and his experienced operators could understand it.
"Skipper, it looks like somebody just got inside on them and launched an attack. He got three solid hits on Kirov, and now they're trying to beat on him. These two ships appear to be converging on something. Another torpedo in the water, don't know whose. Gawd, look at all these explosions!"
McCafferty went aft.
"Periscope depth, now!" Chicago angled upward, taking a minute to reach her position.
He saw what might have been a mast on the horizon, and a column of black smoke, bearing three-two-zero. Over twenty radars were operating along with a number of voice radios.
"Down scope. We have any target solutions?"
"No, sir," the XO answered. "When they started maneuvering, all our data went to hell."
"How far to the next sonobuoy line?"
"Two miles. We're positioned to run right through a gap."
"Make your depth eight hundred feet. Ahead full, move us in."
Chicago's engines sprang into life, accelerating the submarine to thirty knots. The executive officer dived the boat to eight hundred feet, ducking deep below a sonobuoy set for shallow search. McCafferty stood over the chart table, took a pen from his pocket, and unconsciously began chewing on the plastic end as he watched his sub's course take him closer and closer to the enemy formation. Sonar performance dropped virtually to nil with the high speed, but soon the low-frequency sounds of the exploding ordnance echoed through the steel hull. Chicago ran for twenty minutes, zigzagging slightly to avoid the Russian sonobuoys, as the firecontrol men kept updating their solutions.
"Okay, all ahead one-third and take her back up to periscope depth," McCafferty said. "Tracking party, stand by for a firing run."
The sonar picture cleared up rapidly. The Soviets were continuing to hunt frantically for whoever had fired at their flagship. One ship's trace was entirely gone-at least one Russian ship had been sunk or crippled. Explosions rippled through the water, punctuated by the screeing sound of homing torpedoes. All were close enough to be a matter of real concern.
"Shooting observation. Up scope!"
The search periscope slid upward. McCafferty caught it low and swept the horizon. "I-Jesus!" The TV monitor showed a Bear only half a mile to their right, heading north for the formation. He could see seven ships, mainly mast tops, but one Sovremenny-class destroyer was hull-down, perhaps four miles away. The smoke he'd seen before was gone. The water resounded with the noise of Russian sonars.
"Raise the radar, power-up, and stand by."
A petty officer pushed the button to raise the submarine's surface-search radar, activated the system, but kept it in standby mode.
"Energize and give me two sweeps," the captain ordered. There was a real danger here. The Soviets would almost certainly detect the submarine's radar and try to attack it.
The radar was on for a total of twelve seconds. It "painted" a total of twenty-six targets on the screen, two of them close together about where he would have expected Kirov to be. The radar operator read off ranges and bearing, which were entered into the Mk-117 fire-control director and relayed to the Harpoon missiles in the torpedo tubes, giving them bearing to target and the range at which to switch on their seeker-heads. The weapons officer checked his status lights, then selected the two most promising targets for the missiles.
"Set!"
"Flood tubes." McCafferty watched the weapons-panel operator go through the launch sequence. "Opening outer doors."
"Solution checked and valid," the weapons officer said calmly. "Firing sequence: two, one, three."
"Shoot!" McCafferty ordered.
"Fire two." The submarine shuddered as the powerful impulse of high-pressure air ejected the weapon from the tube, followed by the whoosh of water entering the void. "Fire one... fire three. Two, one, and three fired, sir. Torpedo tube doors are shut, pumping out to reload."
"Reload with Mark-48s. Prepare to fire Tomahawks!" McCafferty said. The fire-control men switched the attack director over to activate the bow-mounted missiles.
"Up scope!" The quartermaster spun the control wheel. McCafferty let it come all the way up. He could see the smoke trail of the last Harpoon, and right behind it... McCafferty slapped the periscope handles up and stepped back. "Helix heading in! Take her down, all ahead flank!" The submarine raced downward. A Soviet antisub helicopter had seen the missile launch and was racing in at them. "Left full rudder."
"Left full rudder, aye!"
"Passing through one hundred feet. Speed fifteen knots," the XO reported.
"There he is," McCafferty said. The pings from the helicopter's active sonar reverberated through the hull. "Reverse your rudder. Shoot off a noisemaker." The captain ordered his submarine back to an easterly course and reduced speed as they dropped through the layer. With luck the Soviets would mistake the noisemaker for the cavitation noises of the submarine and attack it as Chicago drew clear.
"Conn, sonar, we have a destroyer heading in, bearing three-three-nine. Sounds like a Sovremenny-torpedo in the water aft. We have one torpedo in the water bearing two-six-five."
"Right twenty degrees rudder. All ahead two-thirds. Come to new course one-seven-five."
"Conn, sonar, new contact, twin screws, just started with a low-frequency sonar, probably a Udaloy, blade count says twenty-five knots, bearing three-five-one and constant. Torpedo bearing changing, heading aft and fading."
"Very well." McCafferty nodded. "The helicopter dropped on the noisemaker. We don't have to sweat that one. All ahead one-third, make your depth one thousand feet."
The Sovremenny he didn't worry too greatly about, but the Udaloy was another thing entirely. The new Soviet destroyer carried a low-frequency sonar that could penetrate the layer under certain conditions, plus two helicopters and a long-range rocket-boosted torpedo weapon that was better than the American ASROC.
Ba-wah! The sound of a low-frequency sonar. It had hit them on the first shot. Would it report Chicago's position to the Udaloy? Or would the submarine's rubber coating prevent it?
"Target bearing three-five-one. Blade count is down, indicates speed of ten knots," sonar reported.
"Okay, he's slowed to search for us. Sonar, how strong was that ping?"
"Low edge of detection range, sir. Probably did not get a return off us. Contact is maneuvering, bearing now three-five-three. Continuing to ping, but his sonar is search-lighting west-to-east away from us. Another helo is pinging, sir, bearing zero-nine-eight. This one's below the layer, but fairly weak."
"XO, take us west. We'll try to loop around them to seaward and approach their amphibs from the west." McCafferty returned to the sonar room. He was tempted to engage the Udaloy, but could not launch a torpedo this deep without using a dangerously high amount of his reserve high-pressure air. Besides, his job was to kill the command ships, not the escorts. His fire-control team set up a solution anyway in case killing the Russian destroyer became a necessity.