“Now, on the tactical screen, tap the narrowband-frequency cursor. That’s right. That one.”
A graph of sound-power levels across frequencies up to three kilohertz appeared, representing discrete sounds that comprised the new trace.
“That frequency corresponds to the electric plant. The next one corresponds to the reduction gears. Then those are higher harmonics.”
“What’s it mean, sir?”
“It means they launched a decoy. An active decoy that’s broadcasting sounds just like our class of submarine.”
“Is it going to work?”
Yoon recalled his training.
“An advanced torpedo might be fooled into pursuing it, but once underneath, it would notice the lack of steel. A submarine’s hull interrupts a torpedo seeker’s magnetic influence field prior to detonation. An advanced torpedo would ignore the decoy after sensing no mass.”
“What about fooling this old torpedo?”
“God willing, it will work.”
He listened as the torpedo intersected the decoy. It circled back once and attacked it again.
“If nothing else, they’ve bought time. They may yet evade.”
The Gwansun opened range, and the hostile torpedo continued its loops around the decoy. Yoon sighed in relief.
“Take off my headset,” he said. “Our comrades our safe.”
CHAPTER 8
Lieutenant Commander Dong-suk Kye stood in the engine room of gunboat Taechong Twelve. An overhead-mounted hook and chain network held a diesel engine inches above mounting bolts.
His first act after being plucked from the water and watching Taechong Nineteen burn was to salvage equipment and crew from his doomed vessel for transfer to the least decimated ship he could find among the hulks that remained in port.
The missile that doomed Taechong Nineteen had hit forward of amidships, costing him his officers and tactical team but sparing much of his engineering team. That played in his favor as he attempted to resuscitate Taechong Twelve’s engine room.
But he had lost his chief engineer to the damage control effort, and he inherited a new leader for the engineering space.
“What’s the problem?” he asked.
The veteran warrant officer, a stranger from Taechong Twelve’s crew, appeared hesitant.
“Well?” Kye asked.
“Sir, it’s just not fitting,” the warrant said. “You’re trying to patch together this ship from the remnants of Taechong Nineteen and at least two other ships. You can’t expect parts from one vessel to always fit with another, especially equipment that’s been neglected or damaged.”
“Have you tried using chains and winches to stretch the base of the diesel so that it reaches the bolts?”
“No, sir.”
“Have you tried heating the base of the diesel with hot oil to make it expand?”
“No, sir.”
“So you’ve just stared at it for an hour and have done nothing?”
“Sir?”
“No, no, it’s okay. We’re all under a lot of stress. We’ll have to consider other options, after lunch. Best to rest now and return to this with fresh minds and bodies.”
Kye turned and stepped away, scanning the engine room for a certain type of object. A half-meter-long torque wrench stowed against a bulkhead caught his attention.
He detached it, lifted it, balanced its weight in both hands, and then he turned. The warrant officer appeared dazed, unsure what to expect. He looked at Kye as the wrench smacked his jaw.
Having stunned his victim, he raised the wrench again and swung it sideways across the warrant’s temple. The man fell to a knee. Kye considered raising the weapon over his head to crash it down, but he decided that risking murder would hinder his desire to hunt the South Korean submarine.
Instead, he kicked the man in the ribs until he lay motionless.
Heaving to catch his breath, he addressed the stunned sailors who surrounded him.
“This man could not find a way to get this ship to sea because he is a coward. He fears danger and will find any excuse to prevent deploying. I will not tolerate cowardice!”
The eyes of the men in the compartment met his to avoid showing fear and fueling his rage.
“Some of you on this ship are survivors from battle under my last command. The rest of you I took from the crews of the ships that were not seaworthy to give you a chance to show your mettle. We are facing the greatest naval effort our nation has seen since the sinking of the Cheonan. I don’t know you, but you know me by reputation, and I demand that you show competence and courage.”
He scanned the room to assure that the men paid attention.
“I found and engaged our enemy’s most advanced submarine. I exchanged weapons with it, and were it not for the misfortune of one of our submarines being in the way, I would have sunk it. I will return to sea in a new ship, this ship, and you will perform your duties with courage in support of it.”
The faces around him struggled for neutrality, but he knew he struck inner chords.
“Who’s my next senior engineering expert?”
A sailor stepped forward.
“I am, sir.”
“You have three hours to have that diesel engine installed, five hours total to have it online. Don’t fail me.”
“I won’t, sir!”
“I know you won’t,” he said. “Even if you need to install it while we are underway.”
On the bridge wing of Taechong Twelve, Kye raised a radio to his mouth.
“Bring the ship to five knots,” he said.
The response from the tugboat captain crackled back, and the vessel moored to the gunboat defied its decrepit appearance by manhandling the naval warship.
Though lacking propulsion during diesel engine installation, Taechong Twelve provided a training opportunity for Kye’s new crew. He stepped into the bridge.
“Prepare to deploy the sonar suite,” he said.
His officer of the deck, an ensign, mouthed a lackluster response.
“I gave you an order, ensign. Speak!”
“Prepare to deploy the sonar suite, aye, sir!”
He watched the young officer fumble for a microphone and speak to a team in the ship’s bowels. Blushing, he looked to Kye.
“There’s a problem, sir.”
“What sort of problem?”
“I don’t know, sir. They just said they’re not ready.”
“Find out why.”
The shaken youngster whipped the ringer while lifting a sound-powered phone to his ear. Anxiety and frustration underlay his conversation.
“Hydraulic pressure is low, sir. They’re charging the accumulators now.”
“Is there not a procedure that requires a verification of hydraulic pressure?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is there not also a manual crank for lowering and raising the sonar suite?
“Yes, sir. But it takes much longer. Minutes.”
“Lay to the sonar suite,” Kye said. “Deploy the sonar suite using manual override.”
The officer acknowledged the order and started off.
“Wait,” Kye said. “Inform the senior enlisted man of the team that he has one hour to review the complete procedure with the handling team. Then, he will deploy and retrieve the sonar suite ten times without incident, after this exercise. One mistake, and the count returns to zero. I will see this happen ten sequential times flawlessly.”
Five minutes later, the ensign returned, having extended the gunboat’s hydrophones into the water.
“The sonar suite is deployed, sir.”
“Prepare to transmit active, half power, three hundred and sixty-degree search, twenty-degree wide beams. Transmit.”