NAVAL OPS/02
MSGID/PACOPS 6722/COMSUBPAC ACTUAL//
MSG BEGINS://
SOURCE:// JSDF ASW.
DARK FISH FROM SHADOW DIAMOND. REPORT JIN CLASS SSBN 79 % CONTACT. 32.0305N 142.9002E, DEPTH 100 METERS, SPEED 14 KNOTS, HEADING FOUR ZERO DEGREES.
SHADOW DIAMOND OUT.
GOOD HUNTING COMMANDER BLAKE. JSDF ASW OUT.
KAMOV:// BLAKE. WE NEED WORDS OVER THIS JSDF COMMUNICATION. ADMIRAL KAMOV OUT.
MSG END://
Nathan smiled. Admiral Kamov knew he’d been outside the normal channels of communication. Admiral Nakata of the JSDF had delivered, and that was that for now. He checked the depth 300 feet.
“Nikki, get me an intercept course with the Jin.”
“Sir, zero three seven degrees.”
“Thanks, get a backup and then get yourself off to your bunk right now.
Planesman, come to 037 degrees, speed 20 knots. Maintain depth.”
“037 at 20kts. Aye sir.” It would be a chase, the Jin was 560 miles away, but he’d catch it.
USS Stonewall Jackson was now in pursuit of her quarry.
NATHAN HAD THE FILES up on his screen. Whatever he and the idiot's guide had on the Jin class boat. It was his Sun Tzu thing. “Know your enemy, know yourself and in a hundred battles a hundred victories.” He learned all he could about the Jin class, known and suspected. After all it was him against the Jin, win and the threat was gone, lose and his homeland was decimated. So, no pressure then.
11,000 tons, 442 feet long 41 feet beam, 1 shaft nuclear powered, 6 x 533mm bow tubes. Diving depth? Sonar? Sound profile, about the same as a Soviet Delta III boat.
Its bow tubes would probably house Yu-6 or Yu-9 torpedoes. All the PLAN SSBN Captains were known to have come up through the ranks and been in command of diesel electric and nuclear attack submarines. So, they’d understand what it means to hunt and be hunted. Whoever this man was, he wasn’t to be underestimated. Nathan took that on board. He had something he thought maybe an advantage. His opposition probably expected to be up against a United States Navy SSN. If detected he’d try to behave that way, until he didn’t.
His favourite navigation officer walked to her station. Blue baseball cap, blond ponytail, she carried a paper cup of coffee. He walked over.
“Hi,”
“Hello sir,”
“How long until we’re within sixty miles of him?” She set to.
“Assuming no speed change sir, approx. eight hours.” He rubbed her shoulder a couple of seconds longer than he should.
“Good to have the first team back.” He sat back at his Conn.
“Weaps, I want tubes one to three Mk 48, tubes four to six. Deputy Dawg, Ren and Stimpy.”
“Aye sir, I’ll get Deputy dawg in tube four.” Nathan smirked.
“Weaps, while you’re at it, open a file, the Jin will be known as Tango one now.”
Nathan sat, how to take on the Jin? How would Hannibal have done it? Of course, he could just get in her baffles, a Delta III wasn’t too quiet, and shove a Mk 48 up her ass. But he knew life wouldn’t be that simple. He wouldn’t be taking on a half-wit, more like Captain Karl Franks of USS NYC probably.
“XO, KAMINSKI, WARD Room.” The war committee met, Nathan turned up late with three coffees.
“Hi,” started Nathan, “it should be easy. But something tells me it’s not going to be.”
“Yeah,” said the XO, “we could run up his baffles and give him the good news. But yeah, nothing’s that easy.”
“If I was Conning that Jin,” said Nikki taking the cap off and banging it on the table, “If I got half a sniff there was a sub following or an ASW bird up there. I’d have all my birds primed and ready. Every JL-2 aimed and ready. From where he’ll be, DC would be possible but on his limit. Everywhere else West coast, Denver, Phoenix, Chicago, Atlanta, Dallas, Camp Minden Louisiana, Philly.”
“Go back a bit Nikki, Camp Minden LA?” Nathan frowned.
“I’ve been around Nathan. It’s about one twenty miles north west of New Orleans. Do you think Skynet’s going to let the PRC nuke its ass off?”
Nathan smiled, “Yeah, I suppose not.
Whad’y think Larry?”
“Yeah, I can see it, flood all tubes, all 12 armed and aimed. Just pop up to periscope depth open them up and fly them birds. Won’t take long.”
“If it comes to that what about Vulture’s Stare?”
Nikki shook her head. “We’d get one, maybe two if lucky. But that’s 10 birds flying.”
Nathan took his coffee and finished it. “I’ll go grab some more Nathan,” said Nikki.
Larry narrowed his eyes. “Any boats on the way to help?”
”USS Cheyenne is coming out from San Diego but she’ll be too late.” Nikki returned and sat.
“Ok,” said Nathan, “here’s my plan.” He outlined his plan to take on Tango one.
“Fuck me,” said Nikki.
“I’ll put your name down.” He smiled.
“Where did that come from?” she asked.
“Well, I sat down with Sun Tzu and Hannibal and we just came up with it.”
“They didn’t drive subs,” Nathan.
“True, but they both knew the enemy and how to fuck with his mind.”
“I’ll give you this it’s different,” smiled Larry, “If it works, they’ll teach it at sub school, if it doesn’t, we’ll be deep down in this abyss.”
“Any objections?” asked Nathan.
“No,” said Nikki, “you’re going to do it anyway. Hannibal and the battle of Cannae?” she shook her head.
“BENSON, ANY SIGN OF Tango one yet?”
“No sir, You say he’s going to be like a Delta III sir?”
“Not a Delta III but similar noise levels. So, I’m told.”
“I’ll keep on it, probably too early yet sir.” Benson listened to the Humpback whales calling from Hawaii. The bubbles and gloop sounds from the deep, the Krill. Seabirds diving into the waters to hunt. The marine symphony Opus one played on for him.
Nathan walked back to the galley he’d grab some food and then try to get a couple of hours sleep.
“Hello sir, cheese omelette and coffee.”
“Sounds good to me.” He sat next to Kate LeDonns a Lieutenant in Engineering.
“Just finishing my shift sir.”
“Hitting your bunk then.”
“Yes sir. How’s Nikki?”
“She’s fine, I told her some hours ago to get to her bunk, she’s just back on now.”
“I’m going to try for a couple of hours after this.”
“Sleep’s good sir, keeps you on your game. We are heading east sir?”
“What makes you say that?”
“We use tiny magnets in oil flow readings, I’ve seen the north poles to port sir.”
“Well, Kate, magnets don’t lie. Ok, I must try to grab some sleep. Goodnight Kate.”
“Night sir.”
Nathan got into his bunk and slept.
There was a knocking at the door. “Sir, It’s the Chief, XO want’s you.”
“Ok.”
Nathan walked into the control room. The XO pointed to Benson.
“What you got for me, Benson?”
“Sir, I’m picking up a boat about 40 miles away, large, single screw, spin count consistent with 14 knots, heading 060. Computer library says 30 % Jin.”
Nathan stood behind Benson.
“And you?”
“It’s him sir. It’s got to be.”
“Planesman, trim for depth fore and aft. Down bubble 15, make your depth 1,800 feet. Nikki intercept course?”
“039 degrees sir.”
“You heard her planes.” Jackson dived into the crushing depths. She was well suited to this cold crushing forbidding place. As they levelled out and continued their course, Nathan thought about the Argentine Navy submarine San Juan, it imploded at a similar depth to this with 44 onboard, twice its test depth. God rest them. USS Stonewall Jackson’s operating depth was 3,000 feet. Its implode depth would probably be more than 1,000 feet deeper.