“What’s the range to our Romeos?” Mack asked. They had been travelling for thirteen minutes at thirty-two knots and had just slowed to get a clear picture of the events going on around them. The Romeos had continued running at twelve knots in their direction, apparently not aware that Cheyenne was stalking them.
“BSY-1 convergence zone range to the first Romeo, Master 83, is 68,000 yards, bearing 030,” the fire-control coordinator reported. “The other Romeo, Master 84, is at 69,000 yards, bearing 320.”
Mack ordered flank speed in pursuit of the closing Romeos, and secured from battle stations until the range was closed.
On board the USS Princeton, five Harpoons exploded out of their missile canisters fitted in the far aft portion of the warship. The missiles streaked fast and low, flying at sea level to avoid radar detection. They had been given the general location of the craft, but because the Chinese boats were moving at a high rate of speed and operating very close together, the missiles would be more accurate when they had direct feedback on their targets via helicopter.
But the Harpoons weren’t the only missiles in the air. Shortly after Princeton fired off its Harpoons, two smaller, thinner missiles were launched, this time from one of the Chinese fast attack craft. Within seconds, the two SA-14s, hand-held surface-to-air missiles, had reached their top speed and were homing in on the American SH-60.
The American helicopter detected the missiles as soon as they were launched, but that was already far too late. The Seahawk was too close, with no room to maneuver and no time to run. Moments later, they exploded into the bottom of the helicopter, sending it down in a burning fireball.
Princeton knew immediately that something had happened.
“Captain, we just lost contact with the Seahawk. She’s no longer showing up on the radar scope.”
There was only one way to interpret that. The captain knew as soon as he heard it that his helicopter had been shot down. His first thought was to get a rescue helicopter out to find any survivors. His second thought was for revenge.
The five Harpoon missiles continued on their way toward the Chinese task group. The plan had been for each missile to strike a different ship, but that plan had depended on the Seahawk to act as a spotter. Without the final data from the SH-60, the Harpoons turned on their active seekers when they neared the programmed area and searched for whatever targets they could find in the water.
The first two Harpoons to hit closed in and slammed into the lead Hainan. They struck directly below the waterline. The entire boat, which displaced less than five hundred tons, was literally picked up out of the water and thrown upside down. Very little was left of the small craft after the two Harpoons exploded.
The third Harpoon homed in on the boat farthest from the pack. The missile streaked in and detonated in the bridge of the ship, killing over half of the seventy-eight sailors on board. The rest died slowly, of smoke inhalation and the fires caused by the burning fuel, ammunition, and aluminum.
Two more Harpoons, as if they were guided by vengeance, crashed into the same ship that had launched the SA-14s at the helo. One of the missiles hit in the fore section, the other in the aft portion. Between them they tore the thin metal hull apart.
Three ships hit, three ships sunk. In other circumstances, that would have been an excellent record. In this case, however, the important thing was not how many ships had been destroyed. What mattered was the two ships that survived, with their missiles intact, to launch against Benthic Adventure.
The remaining Hainan attack craft were in trouble. They lacked good data on the location of the American surface group, but they lacked time as well. They had no idea how long it would be before another salvo of Harpoons appeared on the horizon. Playing it safe, the two commanding officers gave the orders for the two craft to launch their missiles in the overall direction of Benthic Adventure and then turn back and head for China. They had lost more than half of their group, but their mission would still be a success if they could destroy an American naval vessel — or, even better, Benthic Adventure herself.
Mack was notified of the latest developments in his stateroom. The communicator appeared in his doorway, a message printout in his hand.
“Captain,” the communicator said, “we just received a message from Gettysburg. They report that the Chinese task group has shot down their Seahawk. They also report that three of the Chinese craft have been destroyed, but the remaining two have managed to squeeze off four missiles in their direction. They have requested our help, sir. They ask that, if we are within range of the missile craft, we engage them while Princeton and Gettysburg focus on the incoming antiship missiles. If we are unable to get an exact fix on their location, Gettysburg asks us to radio back and they will launch their Tomahawks at the targets.”
The thought of a 1,000-pound Tomahawk missile warhead blowing apart a small Chinese craft brought a momentary smile to Mack’s face. Then he thought of the crew on board the Seahawk and suddenly it didn’t seem so amusing.
He grabbed a pencil and paper and drafted a quick message.
BASED ON YOUR REPORT, CHINESE FAST ATTACK CRAFT ARE BEARING 279 AND 283 FROM CHEYENNE. RANGE IS NOW 66,000 YARDS. WILL COMMENCE HARPOON LAUNCHING AS SOON AS PRACTICAL.
“Send this to Gettysburg,” he said, “and then have the navigator plot a course to those two Chinese ships.” He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t have to. Cheyenne would worry about the two noisy Romeo submarines later.
Tubes one and two were reloaded with Harpoon missiles and the intercept course to the attack craft was again verified. As soon as Cheyenne was in optimal firing position, at one hundred feet beneath the surface, the Harpoons were ejected from Cheyenne’s torpedo tubes on the manual fire-control solution, and they headed toward the surface and then toward Masters 85 and 86. Once their engines ignited, there was no stopping them.
The missiles found their targets within minutes. The data provided via Cheyenne’s BSY-1 fire-control system was remarkably accurate, and even had the Chinese craft tried to evade, it would have done them no good. As it was, they were confident that with their own HY-2 missiles tracking toward the American surface group and keeping them occupied, they were out of danger.
Their first clue that they were wrong was also their last. The two Harpoons closed quickly, impacting amidships, just below the waterline, one missile per Hainan.
Minutes later, the sea was once again calm as the remains of the two attack craft slipped below the surface.
“Now,” said Mack calmly, “about those two Chinese submarines… ”
Tubes one and two were reloaded with Mk 48s.
On board the American cruisers Princeton and Gettysburg, an air of tension ran through the control rooms. Their SPY-1B multifunction radars were doing exactly what they were designed to — track the incoming Chinese missiles and calculate optimal intercept locations for the cruisers’ SM-2 surface-to-air missiles. The four Chinese missiles were closing in at just under the speed of sound, which left only a few minutes of reaction time.