On the bridge of Tunguska, Karpov was thinking this would be a time to have Fedorov handy, but he was far to the north, on the other side of Sakhalin near Okha aboard Kirov. He wanted to know what kind of main guns this Japanese destroyer might have, then simply decided it would likely have something in the range of four or five inch deck guns. He was lucky the troops had all stormed ashore the previous night, because Maikaze also had 16 Type 93 torpedoes that would have wreaked havoc on the transports. But those six 5-inch dual purpose deck guns could also pose a grave threat to any of the airships, and Karpov was justifiably cautious.
He might put damage on the destroyer with one of his Koronet ATGMs. It would certainly penetrate, start a fire, or destroy any system it struck, but the warhead was only seven kilograms. These missiles were excellent bag busters against enemy airships, and he felt he would need many hits to truly mission kill that destroyer. He would also have to close to within 8 kilometers to fire, and that was well within the range of the enemy guns. In this instance, the best defense was his caution, and then he put in a call to Kirov on the other side of the island informing them of the situation.
As if sensing his brother self’s thoughts, the Siberian sat up higher in the Captain’s chair, suddenly alert. “Mister Nikolin,” he said, “anything to report on comm links?”
“Well sir,” said Nikolin, casting one eye towards Rodenko, as if checking to see if the Senior Lieutenant would give him any sign that he should make a report to Karpov concerning those odd signal intercepts. At that moment, his board lit up with an incoming call. Somewhat surprised, he toggled the switch and listened for the call sign. “Sir… I have Tunguska on the secure channel.”
“Very well,” said Karpov. “In my ready room.” He got up and strode to the hatch next to the chart room where he had installed a radio set for these special communications. There he soon learned that his brother wanted a missile.
“We completed the landing, but if that destroyer persists in the straits, it may put unnecessary damage on the ferry terminals and dock at Lazarev. I can feed you telemetry from our Oko panel and you’ll have a pinpoint on its position.”
“Good enough, and well done, brother. The operation is proceeding very smoothly, thanks to your able supervision. Standby. I will see what I can do for you. Siberian One, over and out.”
The Admiral strode back out to the bridge. “The ship will come to battle state one and make ready for surface target missile launch.”
“Aye sir,” said Samsonov, “sounding alert one and ready on SSM board.”
“Mister Rodenko, we will be receiving telemetry from Tunguska any second now. Feed it directly to the CIC.”
“Aye sir, getting a signal now.”
“Watch closely, Grilikov. This will be a good example of live fire action.” The big Sergeant was hovering near Samsonov’s position, where the two men often worked together now as Samsonov was training Grilikov on how to operate the missile launch systems. Grilikov settled into a chair next to Samsonov, and the two Goliaths hunched over the system board.
“Mister Samsonov,” said Karpov. “What is the range to the target.”
“Sir, I’m reading a single target at 228 kilometers—in the Tatary Strait, off Lazarev.”
“Correct. That will be a bothersome Japanese destroyer. It is right at the outer edge for our Moskit IIs, but the P-900s have the range easily. Sound inventory.”
“Sir, we have seven missiles remaining in the P-900 bank, including missile number ten.”
“Ready a single P-900, and fire. Set missile guidance to accept remote assist from the Oko panel on Tunguska on terminal approach.”
“Aye sir…. Missile ready, sounding launch warning and firing now as ordered.”
And that would soon be the end of Kagero class destroyer Maikaze, and a good number of her crew. The ship’s name meant ‘Whirlwind.’ It had sewn the wind with shells from its deck guns that day, unaware that a dangerous enemy was watching and waiting to strike. Now it would reap the whirlwind. The P-900 was effectively a cruise missile, and the longest range SSM in Kirov’s larders. Now there would only be six remaining, but the Japanese would have to trade a destroyer for that missile, and Karpov would secure both ends of that vital ferry site on the 18th of December.
Ryoko Otani was quick to spot the missile fire as the P-900 climbed to altitude for the subsonic cruise segment of its flight path. Takami was well out in front of Kurita’s task force, which was now slowly escorting the troop laden transports towards Karafuto. The safest and easiest port to debark them would be Otomari on Chitose Bay in the grasp of the lower crab claw made by the island. To screen them, Takami sailed off to take up station as a forward radar picket, well up the southeastern coast off a long spit of land that framed the eastern edge of Taraika Bay, called Cape Kira-Shiritoko. From that position they had a good look north up the long eastern coast of the middle and upper portion of the island. If Kirov moved south to get into any position to threaten the troop convoy, Takami would see that move easily enough.
The ship had assumed a stealthy EMCON mode, attempting to radiate as little as possible. Now that they were ‘in theater,’ a possible combat zone. Harada had ordered EMCON Alpha, total emissions silence. Since the SPY radar system was a passive phased array it could run in a mode known as ‘SPY-1 Silent’, and still receive and process signals radiated by the enemy, even while restraining its own signal emissions, and Kirov was radiating with no restraint, all over the spectrum, absolutely heedless of the fact that anyone might be out there listening.
The SPY system could see airborne threats out to about 175 nautical or 200 standard miles in this mode, and it wasn’t until the P-900 was descending into its terminal phase that Otani saw it, for it had just then come inside that detection range. It was there, there, then suddenly gone. The missile had descended to just a few meters in height, down on the deck to skewer the Maikaze, and was below Takami’s detection threshold when it finally struck home. But Otani knew what threats she might be looking for, and this one filled the bill.
“Con, radar. I just picked up what looked like a missile descending to sea skim mode. Sending coordinates to the CIC now.”
Chapter 35
“Understood,” said Harada. “Process it and tell me more. In the meantime…” He reached for the 1MC intercom to broadcast a message to all ship’s stations. “Now hear this, now hear this. We just got a whiff of our Russian nemesis out there, and it looked like they were already throwing some lead at somebody. Court’s in session and all stations will now come to order. For all you 90-day Blunders out there, that means rack time is over and it’s battle stations. I want everyone to emulate that time honored sailor of endless note—A. J. Squared Away. Do it now. This is the Captain. That is all.”