Less than thirty seconds after the Chinese ships had launched their four HY-2s, the fire-control systems had their data and the two Aegis cruisers began launching their SM-2 SAMs at the incoming missiles. Gettysburg was the first to fire, her fore Mk 41, sixty-one-cell launcher shooting off six missiles one after another. Six more SAMs leapt from the deck of Princeton, all twelve heading straight for the speeding Chinese HY-2s.
Within seconds, the SPG-62 missile illuminators on board the cruisers began directing the American missiles. These illuminators, four of which were on each ship, switched guidance controls from missile to missile, providing minute flight changes so that the missiles would know exactly where to fly in order to intercept the incoming targets.
Approximately ninety meters above the surface of the sea, thirty miles from Benthic Adventure and her escorts, the first SM-2s began to detonate around the incoming Chinese targets.
The first explosions occurred near two of the HY-2s, throwing them off target and then destroying them with shrapnel from the warheads. The remaining two HY-2 missiles were destroyed outright by the American SAMs targeted in their direction.
Three minutes after the launch of the Chinese HY-2 missiles, what was left of all four of them lay scattered on the surface of the sea, floating briefly before slipping beneath the waves.
On board Cheyenne, Mack had no idea how things were progressing above the surface, and no chance to try and find out. Cheyenne outmanned, outgunned, and simply outperformed the two Romeos, but that didn’t mean he could afford to treat them lightly.
Mack ordered one Mk 48 targeted at each Romeo. With their antiquated Feniks sonar systems, he doubted that the Romeos would even detect the torpedoes before they had acquired. If one of them were to miss, however, he knew that Cheyenne would still be out of range of the Chinese weapons and could re-attack at will.
After establishing firing point procedures, the Mk 48 in tube one was launched at Master 83 and the one in tube two at Master 84. His officers and crew had recently had far too much practice at this, and performed their duties as flawlessly as ever.
The Mk 48s closed the gap and detonated beneath the unaware Romeos, sending both to the bottom, but Mack’s pride and pleasure in their performance was short-lived.
Cheyenne had just secured from battle stations and begun to head back to her escort position near Benthic Adventure when she received a sonar detection indicating that she had trouble.
“Conn, sonar. We just picked up two possible submarine contacts on the towed array.”
Five minutes later, the sonar supervisor had an updated report for Mack, who had gone to his place in the sonar room.
“Captain, I’m classifying the possible submarine contacts as one Akula II class SSN based on its tonals, and one Kilo class SSK based on his single 6-bladed screw. Both are headed in the direction of the Ticonderoga group. The Kilo just started running at three knots. The Akula’s bearing is remaining constant. Captain — I’m pretty sure that they heard us.”
Mack acknowledged the report. He was certain that the sonar supervisor was correct, and that the Chinese submarines had heard them. Launching two Mk 48s, both of which detonated at their intended targets, was bound to attract some attention.
Mack had a hard decision to make. Cheyenne could take on the two enemy submarines herself, with a fair chance of surviving — but a fair chance wasn’t good enough for Mack. Not when he had a better option.
Cheyenne worked best when she worked alone. The Los Angeles class 688Is were designed to work covertly, without help from any other vessel. Cheyenne could work in tandem with other ships, but her biggest strength was her independence.
But that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t accept assistance when it was offered… and when it was needed. And as much as he hated to admit it, Mack believed that Cheyenne needed some now.
“Radio Gettysburg,” Mack ordered the communicator, “and give them our best locations of the Kilo and the Akula II. Tell them that we will handle the Akula, ask them to send some SH-60s to help us out with that Kilo. And man battle stations,” he added to the OOD.
“Aye, Captain.”
In order to transmit this information to Gettysburg, Cheyenne needed to come to periscope depth, which made her much easier to detect by the Chinese submarines. But Mack felt he had to take that chance. Two helicopters and Cheyenne were better odds against the two Chinese submarines than Cheyenne by herself.
As soon as word reached Princeton and Gettysburg, two of the SH-60s were launched in the direction of the Kilo. They dropped line after line of sonobuoys, some of them directly on top of the Chinese submarine. Right now, however, Mack could not pay attention to the Seahawks’ fight with the Kilo. He needed to concentrate on his silent foe, the Akula II.
The one thing that was bothering Mack was that the Akula hadn’t fired yet. He was sure the Chinese captain had a pretty good idea of where Cheyenne was, especially after Mack had launched his two Mk 48s and then went to periscope depth to radio for assistance.
With both submarines within torpedo range of each other, Mack could only assume that the Akula captain was waiting for exactly the right moment to strike. What Mack didn’t know — and what he couldn’t know, especially given Cheyenne’s successes in these waters, and the notoriety she had gained from killing so many Chinese submarines — was that the Akula wasn’t hunting her at all. The Akula captain was hunting Benthic Adventure. He had wanted to avoid Cheyenne at all costs.
That little bit of caution was going to cost him his mission, his command, and the lives of himself and his crew.
“Captain,” the fire-control coordinator reported to Mack, “we’ve got the firing solution to the Akula II, Master 90.”
Mack immediately ordered firing point procedures. On his command, tubes one and two were immediately readied and fired.
The Akula captain quickly realized that he had been discovered and that his sneak attack had failed. Hearing the American torpedoes enter the water, he did the only thing he could… he turned and ran.
The Akula was fast. It turned and increased speed to over thirty-five knots as the Mk 48s closed in on its tail. And its captain was smart. As he fled, he launched several noisemaker decoys in an attempt to throw the Mk 48s off course.
But neither the submarine’s speed nor its captain’s experience was enough. The first Mk 48 fell for the decoy. The second continued on, until it finished the job.
The incredible explosion tore open the hull of the Akula and sent it to the bottom. The explosion was so loud that it almost masked the two subsequent explosions that soon followed — the sound of two American helicopter-dropped Mk 50s exploding under the hull of the Chinese Kilo submarine.
As soon as the two latest kills were confirmed, Cheyenne and Princeton exchanged radio messages congratulating each other on yet another successful combat operation.
Once things began to calm down, a helicopter was flown out to the location of the downed SH-60. The remains of the destroyed Seahawk could be seen clearly from the sky. There were no survivors. Wartime losses were to be expected, but they were never without pain and sadness.