“Damage control to bulkhead one, check for flooding,” ordered the Master Chief.
“Sonar. Fish one point three miles, running in port side.
“Ready countermeasures. Load tubes. Ripple effect, high to low,” ordered Harding. He knew the situation was now desperate.
“Sonar, the fish has gone active, it’s pinging. Range point six miles.”
“Come to two seven zero, face the fish.” Benfield turned to the west, but slower this time due to the weight of water in the bow.
“Launch countermeasures, port side. Three, two, one. Now.” The type 53 was diverted by the countermeasures, but not far enough, and it struck towards the stern. The destroyer lifted in the water and then settled back down; the turbines had been crippled and fires raged in the engine room and adjacent rear compartment. Damage control fought a battle with the fires, but it was a losing battle.
“ASW Officer. Ready ASROC. Lay in a solution.”
“Sir.”
Within ten minutes Harding had to bow to the inevitable. “XO, we’re losing her. Prepare to abandon ship.”
Comms, inform COMSEVENTHFLT Yokosuka that we are abandoning ship. Transmit our position to and copy the message to CNFK. Commander Fleet Activities Chinhae, Busan. South Korea.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Principal ASW Sir. ASROC released and is on parachute for descent.”
“Copy.” Captain Harding knew it was too late to save his own vessel. But it was now time.
“As ye sow, so shall ye reap. Go to hell, you bastards.”
THE ASROC LAUNCHED Mk 46 torpedo located its target and ran in at 46mph, with 97lbs of PBXN-103 high explosive striking the middle rear of the Sang-O boat. The hull burst in with unreasonable force and a large section flooded.
With total DC main electrical conduit failure, the boat was plunged into darkness. Commander Jeong ordered a manual emergency blow. The crew had to feel for the valves in the blackness. Badabaem rose slowly towards the surface, the hatch was quickly cracked open and men pulled out inflatable life rafts.
Seven crew survived, four were killed in the explosion and four terrified men remained trapped and doomed in the engine room.
NATHAN EMERGED FROM his cabin, he’d slept some but had woken early and been wrestling with twin dilemmas. One he could plan for, the other was a little more delicate. He’d have to keep his cards close to his chest.
Damn it.
He walked into the control room. “Exec, Kaminski, wardroom.”
“The XO’s in the head, Sir. I have the Conn,” said Weaps.
“Ok, tell him to come to the wardroom when he’s ready.”
“Let’s grab a coffee first,” Nathan and Lieutenant Kaminski walked back to the galley, and got three coffees, then returned to the wardroom and sat.
“How are you with the war committee role Nikki?”
“I’m fine with it if you are. I was surprised and a bit nervous at first,” she gazed up at him with those doe-like eyes, “but better now. If you think you’ve made a mistake appointing me, I understand.”
On the one level, he hadn’t made a mistake; she brought a clear alternative view. She had a keen mind that would think the unthinkable. She’d think it, analyse it, accept or reject it. Modify it, or kick its ass. What she lacked maybe was the wisdom of years.
“No Nikki, I haven’t made a mistake.” You’re lying Blake. “You’re doing great.”
His dilemma smiled at him, he had to smile back.
THE XO WALKED INTO the room and sat, and Nikki pushed his coffee to him.
“Thanks.”
“OK, how do we get at the damn thing?”
“It’ll have to be the west gate, I don’t see any other option,” said Larry.
Nathan nodded.
Nikki sighed. “I don’t know,” she said, “it’d be easier getting into a Prom Queen’s panties.” She smiled. “I’m a girl, I can say things like that.”
There had to be a better way, Nathan thought.
“What about VPM launch tubes? We’ve got four vertical tubes with seven Tomahawk BGM-109 cruise missiles in each. Twenty one Tomahawks, that’s got to hurt.”
“To get the best accuracy they’ll have to come in from the landward side and that’s over the main Sinpo base,” said Larry. “What about SAM cover, I think it’ll be a bit tough.”
Nikki switched her tablet on and consulted the dummies guide.
“Sinpo air defenses. Let’s see. SA-3 Goa upgraded to Pechora-2M, Flatface/Squat eye radar. Useful against cruise missiles. There’s thought to be ten batteries deployed. SA-2 Guideline, range seven to forty kilometres. Spoon rest and Fan Song radars. They’re a bit longer range, but can’t be ruled out at all. SA-7 Grail, MANPADS. Shoulder fired SAM, short range. Rear aspect hit likelihood only. That doesn’t help us, as the Tomahawks will be leaving Sinpo for the one mile run into Mayang-do Island. Numbers deployed are unknown but thought to be hundreds, as they have over four thousand of ‘em. ZSU 57-2 and ZSU 23-4 tracked vehicles with radar guided anti-aircraft guns. One thousand rounds per minute. They’re thought to have five hundred of them so there’ll be more than a few at Sinpo.”
“So, we can expect high attrition rates if we launch cruise missile strikes,” said Nathan.
Nikki nodded.
She went on. “The Pentagon is unlikely to commit a high-level strike by B52s or B1-Bs. As they also have seventy five S200 missiles, range one hundred and ninety miles, one hundred and thirty thousand feet, speed 5,600mph.”
“Jeezz Nikki, now give me the bad news.”
“I think the SA-7 Grail will be the greatest threat,” she said, “the Gook’s will have a ton of ‘em.”
Nathan took a drink of his coffee and set the cup down.
“So, it’s down to us then,” he smiled faintly. “You know? It is possible to get into a Prom Queen’s panties,” he shrugged, “so they tell me anyway.”
Chapter 5
IT WAS SEVERAL HOURS later and the news of the Benfield’s sinking had come in.
“No, NSA Stockhaisen. I will not lie back and whimper. Fucking bastards have sunk one of our destroyers.”
“But we sunk…”
“I don’t care if we sunk a fucking Gook sub. I want ass, and I want it now. Get over to the CINC and tell him I want the Pentagon up that fat mother’s ass, like a horny camel.”
He knew there was no holding the President back on this one. All he could do was moderate it.
Well; maybe there was something he could do for his daughter? Maybe?
“Yes Mr President, I’ll get on it right away.”
THE NATIONAL SECURITY Adviser made a call.
She tapped the cell’s incoming call icon.
“Chali zai zheil.”
“Charlie One five one?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“We need to meet tonight.”
“Ok, Flushing NYC. Joe’s Shanghai on 37th Avenue. Seven thirty.”
“I’ll be there.”
HE SAT IN JOE’S SHANGHAI with a beer.
“You ready order?”
“I’m waiting on a lady.”
“Ok, you call. Here is another menu.” The door opened and a glamorous Asian hooker walked in, wearing a fur jacket and dark fishnet tights, her legs long and slinky. She was the type that would pull you into her and wouldn’t let go.
She sat by him.
“I’m hungry, feed me.”
“You got it.”
“So here I am, what can I do for you?” she pouted. “Apart from fuck your brains out.”