A few minutes went by. “Tube six is loaded.”
“Flood tube six, open outer doors, launch when ready.”
A minute later Weaps looked over at Nathan. “Ren is launched.”
“Go through your tests.” Long minutes went by.
“Sir,” Benson put his hands over his headset, “we have a submerged contact nine miles to the north. Threat computer reports suspected Hai Lung class submarine. Heading south east, speed ten knots.” The Hai Lung class was a Republic of China navy vessel, that is a Taiwan navy boat.
“She’s active pinging us. Sonar type, Elodone Octopus, type 20026.” Nathan listened.
“She’s flooding a tube sir, opening outer doors. Fish launched, fish running in. Threat computer identifies fish as AEG SUT wire-guided, active/passive homing. Fish closing, range now four miles.”
The contact faded. Nathan patted Benson on the shoulder.
“How did it look Benson?”
“Good sir, it fooled our systems.” Nathan smiled.
“Weaps, recover Ren to tube six and give him a doggy treat.”
Ren was a replacement; the original had been destroyed in an engagement with the Chinese People’s Liberation Army Navy, the PLAN and the Iranians.
“Will do sir. I had Lockheed Martin and L-3 Chesapeake sciences Corp running simulations in their water test tank and computer model. All looked good. Sir I checked and L-3 added another identity, the Pointers can now impersonate a Chinese Song class.”
Nathan knew this new capability of becoming a Hai Lung class could be important, the Song class less so. He had requested it expecting to be turned down, but they’d done it. USS Stonewall Jackson could now look like a Hai Lung boat as far as the PLAN was concerned. Taiwan had two of them, the Sea Dragon and the Sea Tiger. He didn’t know if he’d need that capability, but it was now an arrow in his quiver.
Nathan decided it was time to set out their position.
“XO, KAMINSKI. WAR COMMITTEE, Wardroom now.”
Lieutenant Commander Larry Sayers and Lieutenant Nikki Kaminski sat at the Wardroom table. “OK, War committee rules apply, say what you like, first names, rank is irrelevant.”
Sayers sat back, “The Island doesn’t seem to be under threat as far as we can see.”
Nikki stood. “Anybody apart from me want a brew?”
“A brew?”
“A coffee or tea. It’s English, I picked it up from Anupa.”
“Go on, a coffee,” said Nathan. She left for the Galley and returned soon with two coffees and a tea.
“A lot depends,” Nikki set the brews down, “on what May turns up and we can’t know that. Just wait for her report or requests.”
“That’s one weakness I see in this operation,” Nathan rubbed his brow, “we don’t have any way to contact her, and she’s a major part of it.”
“Yeah,” said Larry, “we have the contact details of the Commander of the Navy, Admiral Su-kang or something, but that’s it.”
Nikki leaned towards Nathan. “Put me ashore and I think I’ll be able to get it.”
“You? Why?”
“Because Nathan, the National Security Bureau the NSB is very likely run by a man.”
He frowned. “So?”
“So, give him a sexy smile, push up your tits, wiggle your ass and it’s surprising what you can get.”
Nathan grinned. “I’ll see what we can do.” He turned to Larry. “In the meantime, I think we need to know just how active the PLAN is off the coast. Carry out a patrol north south say 20 miles offshore. Let’s see if there are any boats out there sniffing around.”
Back in the control room Nathan checked out his monitor screen and followed that with a look around the crew room. It was perhaps surprising just what you could figure out about the boat’s status from the Officer’s expressions and body language. All seemed well.
“Trim fore and aft for descent, down ten. Make your depth two hundred feet. Right rudder one third. Course hold on south southwest.”
The USS Stonewall Jackson dived into the gloomy Taiwan strait, the deck inclined down toward the bow. A few minutes later the boat levelled out.
“Two hundred feet sir.”
“Keep her steady, speed six knots.” He walked over to the sonar operator at his console.
“Benson. Keep those ears at it, get me a PLAN boat and there’s a tray of Zhang men beer waiting for you in Taipei.” Benson smiled.
“I’ll do my best sir.” Nathan walked back aft to see the Engineers. It was always wise to keep them happy. Smooth talk them, make them feel important and appreciated, without them many things would go wrong. It didn’t matter what torpedoes or missiles you carried, if the Engineers weren’t there doing their thing, then it was all a waste of time.
It reminded him about the meeting where the body parts were debating over who should be in charge. The brain said I control things it should be me. The lungs said if I didn’t breathe there’d be no air and we’d die. The stomach said something similar. The eyes said they could see so the body knew where it was going. The blood said it carried the oxygen and without that you’d all waste away. The asshole said it should be in charge. Everybody laughed, so the asshole stopped working. Soon the brain got a headache, the lungs palpitated, the eyes crossed and got watery, the stomach was bloated, the blood became toxic. They all agreed that the asshole could be in charge. He sniggered.
Engineering systems all checked out and the crew were happy to be in his thoughts. He walked back to the control room.
Benson looked up. “Sir, request all stop.”
“Planesman all stop.” The sonar wizard had heard something or thought he had Nathan knew, let him listen.
BENSON’S BIG EARS HAD help. The Hughes/Oki bow and flank sonars in passive mode searched the strait’s waters. Although the boat slowly came to a stop, the lure, the towed array sonar was still active. The lure is towed kilometres behind the boat. The high priests of underwater deception, L-3 Chesapeake Sciences Corp produced a secret device so clandestine that not even the Captain or Chief Engineer are allowed to know how it works. Just provide it with power, connect it to the CRAY sensor computer, then take what it gives you.
It will listen, jam, lure enemy torpedoes. The sonar community said if you ask Lucy lure nicely she will make you breakfast, whisper she loves you and tell you next week’s lottery numbers.
Benson listened carefully, then changed the settings on his console. He set them to a place, range where he shouldn’t hear anything and zoomed in on the noise. He analysed the water temperature and density, the temperatures and set the ranging to bounce returns from an inversion layer. Benson was an artist at work, he could feel the depths, sense her temperatures, the effect they had.
“Sir, I have a suspected type 93, a Shang class SSN. It’s a possible 93G, that’s longer with a new hull form and is quieter.”
Nathan nodded, they were detecting a definite PLAN boat, the Republic of China navy didn’t operate SSN’s.
“Where is he?”
“Behind, by around ten miles and five to ten miles inshore of us. Speed, I’d say around twelve knots.”
“Very good Benson. XO, I say we stay silent and hold our position until he’s gone by and then follow him. Ok?”
“Yes, that’s a good move sir. One suggestion, later when we’ve followed him and seen what he’s up to, we could try out a Pointer. Let’s see what he does when he thinks we’re a Hai Lung class.”
Nathan wondered, he could see the appeal. But he wasn’t sure about that, it could open a can of worms if the PLAN boat knew there was a potentially hostile boat out here. He could hardly be surprised in Taiwanese waters, but still?
“Hmm, maybe.”
Several minutes later Benson looked up, “I have him two miles to our south and heading along the coast, he’s around six miles offshore, speed ten knots.”