Svedrov had the same feeling his Admiral did. Their fleet had more weapons than the Americans, but their sophistication and range might not be quite competitive. It was a necessity to sink the Nimitz to equalize the battle, but there was no point in being a winner if your own force was too decimated.
Alex Kupinsky watched the screens closely in front of him. His aircraft were inadequate to protect his ships. It was a matter of having more small carriers to spread over the ocean, for the airpower was still a controlling factor. He would have few aircraft or pilots left after this day was done. When he returned to Moscow, he would hammer home this lesson well. More shipyards would be converted to building many of the small VTOL carriers.
His own status boards reflected much the same information as David Charles's. Sunk: cruisers Azov, Vasili Chapaev, Marshal Voroshilov, Admiral Izakov, destroyers Bravy, Bedovy, Zorky, Strogy, Smetlivy. They were names etched in Russian hearts and minds, and their brave men would be missed. Countless statues would be erected in city squares to a new generation of heroes.
A third Harpoon plowed into Lenin, this time from Omaha. It hit just below the after section of the flight deck on the starboard side, exploding inside the hangar near the number-six elevator used for hoisting explosives. Ammunition was being loaded at the time, and that, too, began to detonate as the flames spread. If the explosions had been confined to a single area, the fires might have been contained, but rockets were being prepared at the time for the last flight of Forgers. Set off by the intense heat, they streaked wildly through the huge hangar, striking other aircraft and igniting their fuel. Damage-control parties were unable to enter. Bulkheads collapsed as explosions penetrated into adjacent spaces. Kupinsky was soon notified that the fires in the after hangar deck were out of control. The smoke filtering into his flag plot was already making breathing uncomfortable.
"Admiral, our reports indicate that Nimitz has been crippled. One more air strike will sink her."
"Svedrov, there is no doubt in my mind that you are correct. Yet, right now I can't launch another strike. We have almost no Rigas or Forgers left. We have fires in the aft section of the hangar deck that are out of control, and ammunition is exploding so fast that I could only arm the few aircraft I have up forward. The ammunition would have to be carried by hand, but we need every man available to fight the fires. We have succeeded with Nimitz." He took a deep breath. "She will either sink or David will torpedo her himself. But we are close to losing Lenin, also. And look at the losses already on that board. What have we won?"
"The Americans, too, have sustained heavy losses, including three cruisers."
"Admiral?" Kupinsky turned to another voice by his shoulder. The man had been trying to attract the Admiral's attention, but he was vying with the low rumble coming from the hangar deck.
"Yes, what is it?"
"We have just received a plain-language message from Moscow, sir. Intelligence reports that the American carrier, Constellation, has passed through the Strait of Malacca."
Alex turned back to Svedrov. "You see, strength in numbers. The Americans have lost a great carrier, but even before they knew it, they were directing another with equivalent airpower in our direction." The phone by his elbow buzzed. He picked it up, muttered his name into the mouthpiece, listened for just a moment, and hung it up without a word.
He stared intently at the displays framing the dimly lit plot, looking at but not seeing the lights and symbols that kept track of the battle. Finally his eyes stopped at the board with the list of ships' names, the ones already lost. "That was Captain Scherensky. He is concerned about Lenin. He feels we may want to shift our flag to another ship, or at least make plans to do so."
Svedrov's eyes dropped. The heavy eyebrows and stocky body gave him the appearance of a bulldog. There was still a lot of fight in him. "I see." He said nothing for a second. "I will contact the Admiral Senyavin. They have the capacity for our staff."
"She has also been badly damaged, Svedrov. Our cruisers have been excellent targets today, just like the American cruisers. Perhaps we shall have to pick one of the destroyers."
"I will see to it, Admiral."
As Svedrov was uttering those words, the fate of Lenin was being sealed. While the Aegis ships had sector positions to maintain to protect Nimitz, the little frigates and destroyers had continued directly into the Russian line of advance. They were, as they had been in earlier wars, expendable. In this case, they were literally the only ones to see the Soviet force with their own eyes.
The brash, young commanding officer of Capodanno, one of the smallest of the frigates, found himself watching the burning Lenin through his binoculars. He asked a messenger to find the pilots of the ship's LAMPS helicopters. Ensign Steve Young reported to him in less than a minute, fully dressed to fly and quite out of breath. "I'm sorry, sir, we have only one helo left. Bob Kerner didn't come back."
"I'm sorry. I hadn't been informed." The captain handed the young officer a pair of binoculars, then pointed to the wing of the bridge. "Come out here with me, Steve. I want to show you something."
They leaned together against the windbreak, their elbows on the edge to steady their glasses. Wherever they looked ships were racing to unknown positions. Ships were firing missiles.
Ships were burning or sinking. But the CO of Capodanno centered his binoculars, and the young ensign's as well, on the burning Russian carrier on the horizon.
"Your torpedoes can be set to run shallow?" It was a question and a statement at the same time.
"Yes, sir. I guess so, although they're designed to home on subs."
"I know that. But could your torpedoman set them to maybe run a thousand yards and sink that carrier?"
"I don't think the people in Washington had that in mind for the Mk 52, but we can sure take a shot at it."
"Okay. You get on that phone," he pointed at one by the chart table as they stepped back into the pilothouse, "and get that man up here on the double."
The Mk 52 could be set for shallow running, and the torpedoman was sent back to the hangar to arm the helo. Over the chart table the captain spread photos and drawings of Lenin from almost every imaginable angle. He pointed out to the young pilot where the 76-mm. and Gatling-style guns were located. The helo was to fly up on the Soviet carrier from the starboard quarter, hugging the water. It would be hard to pick up on radar, and likely would not be seen by lookouts until very close. He would have to judge for himself when to release his fish. The guns were radar controlled, the Catlings used more as a last-ditch antimissile weapon. Perhaps their fire-control radar couldn't lock on him, but the minute they did, there would be little time. Once the torpedoes were launched, he was not to turn back to Capodanno. Simply put his bird in hover and jump into the Indian Ocean.
Rezvy, a relatively new Krivak-II guided-missile destroyer, had been selected by Svedrov. It could not take the entire staff by any means, but its communications system would allow the Admiral to regroup his force and maintain tactical command. As they prepared the last of their materials for transfer, the American LAMPS helicopter from Capodanno had succeeded in closing to less than a mile from Lenin. Because of the interior communications problems caused by the fires, the lookout on the stern could not immediately get his siting message to the bridge. It was finally relayed by a unique jury-rigged system that is the mark of sailors in every navy.