Quite probably the same Seawolf-class submarine he'd engaged two days ago.
So just possibly this encounter would provide Jian and the Yinbi de Gongji with a spectacular tactical opportunity. He could approach Zaki's yacht on battery power, silent as death. If the other submarine made a single noise, Jian would be ready with another spread of torpedoes, fired this time from such close range the American would not have time to outrun them.
"Engineer!" he snapped. "What is the charge on our batteries?"
"We've recharged by two-thirds, Captain. I recommend another six hours to bring the charge up to full."
Two-thirds battery power would allow Yinbi to maneuver silently for at least six hours, more if they moved slowly.
"Two-thirds will suffice," he replied. "Secure from snorkeling. Secure the diesel. Engage electric motor."
"Yes, Captain!"
"Helm! Come right to new heading, two-six-zero. Make depth one hundred meters, speed eight knots."
"New course two-six-zero! Depth one hundred meters, at speed eight knots! Yes, sir!"
"Sonar!"
"Sonar here, Captain!"
"We will be entering an area almost certainly occupied by an American submarine. I want to know the instant you hear anything out of the ordinary!"
"Yes, sir!"
The other submarine captain had the very luck of the devil, as Americans liked to say, evading or surviving a spread of four torpedoes.
That luck, however, was just about to run out.
"Target has gone silent, Captain," Queensly reported. "He's secured snorkeling and gone deep."
Damn! Garrett considered the navigational screen for a moment. The other guy was getting cagey.
Why did he choose to go silent now? Garrett closed his eyes, trying to get inside the mind of his opponent. It could be chance, true. The Chinese captain might be under orders to run silent when he was within a certain distance of Small Dragon Island, in order to mask Chinese submarine activities in the area from American sonar.
But there could be a slightly more paranoid explanation. While snorkeling, the other sub's radio antennas, some of them, were above the water. And, as Stevens had pointed out a few minutes ago, the Chinese base must realize that something was wrong with the Al Qahir—unmoving and out of communication.
It was entirely possible that the Chinese skipper had just been ordered to investigate the terrorist yacht.
"Weps?" he said.
"Yes, sir," Lieutenant Carpenter replied, turning from his board. "Warshot status."
"Tubes two and four loaded, sir. Junior is loaded in number one."
"Prepare Junior for EVA."
"Prepare LMRS for EVA, aye aye."
He pressed the switch opening his 1MC mike. "Mr. Stevens, Mr. Jorgensen, Mr. Halstead, Mr. Michaels to the control room."
He checked the status readouts on his console. Virginia was currently station-keeping at eighty feet.
Lieutenant Michaels, the command and helm officer for the ASDS, reached the control room first. "You called for me, Captain?"
"Yes, I did. How long will it take to ready the ASDS for launch?"
"Her batteries should be charged up by now, sir. And the go-over for damage after the collision checked out okay. But we'll still need to run through the prelaunch checklist. I'd say… twenty minutes? Thirty at the outside."
Garrett scowled. That was not the answer he'd hoped for, though it had been what he'd expected.
As always, working off sonar data alone, the range to the other submarine was unknown. Just working off the nav chart, and assuming the Chinese boat had been on a course to Small Dragon from somewhere north, it could be as far away as twenty miles… or as close as five.
A Kilo had a top speed of twenty knots. That meant it could be moving into firing position within an hour… or as soon as fifteen minutes. The other skipper, if he was opting for a silent approach, would probably cut his speed back to twelve knots or less, both to avoid making noise and to allow his sonar operators to hear. That extended the time, but the other boat could still be in the area well inside of half an hour.
And preparing the ASDS for launch, and releasing it from the hatch, were fairly noisy operations. Hell, even if the SEAL minisub was ready to release now, there was a good chance the noise would be picked up by the Kilo, if it were as close as five or even ten miles away.
Stevens, Jorgensen, and Halstead entered the control room. "Reporting as ordered, Captain," the exec said.
"Sonar contact, XO. That Chinese boat was snorkeling toward the island, and just went silent. She may be maneuvering to close."
"I should get back aboard the yacht, Captain," Stevens said. "I'll take the women with me, so they'll be safe."
"Negative," Garrett rasped. "There's not enough time to clear the ASDS for launch. The other guy has his ears on."
"What about surfacing, Captain?" asked Halstead. "Or let me go up with a scuba tank. I want to be with my men."
"Sorry, Lieutenant. Those options are all way too noisy. You're with us for the duration, I'm afraid."
"Damn!"
"I must protest, Captain," Stevens said. "Your priority is to protect the yacht, the hostages, and our prisoners."
"Didn't you hear the man?" Jorgensen snapped. "That hostile is coming here, and he's likely coming to have a look at that yacht. Protecting the yacht is exactly what he's trying to do!"
The mission, the boat, the plant, the crew….
"I regret the inconvenience, gentlemen," Garrett said. "You're all four welcome to stay in the control room. Just stay out of the way, and hang on if we have to do some sudden maneuvering. Mr. Jorgensen? I wonder if you would escort Ms. Milford to her quarters, and see to it that she's in a rack, or at least hanging on. This could be a rough ride."
"Like the other day?" Jorgensen grinned. "Yes, sir!"
"I'd like to at least alert my team, on board the yacht," Halstead said.
"Negative, Mr. Halstead. That means coming to periscope depth to raise a mast, and that means noise. Diving Officer!"
"Diving Officer, aye, sir!"
"Rig for ultraquiet!"
"Rig boat for ultraquiet, aye aye, sir!"
"Where's the thermocline?"
"Thermocline is at two hundred eighty feet, Captain."
"Take us down to three hundred ten feet. Helm, bring us to course one-eight-zero."
"Set depth to three-one-zero feet, aye, sir."
"Come to course one-eight-zero, aye, sir!" Virginia slid into the black silence of the depths.
22
Ultraquiet running had been developed during the bad old days of the Cold War, a form of silent running specially designed for American attack boats trailing Russian boomers. Each sub skipper set his own preferences from a basic list of possibilities. For Virginia, ultraquiet meant the main coolant pumps were switched off in favor of natural circulation; all fans were switched to slow; the fresh water evaporator, laundry, showers, and all maintenance work were secured; and red lamps were switched on and white switched off throughout the boat in order to remind the crew that silent running was in force. The galley was secured except for uncooked meals — peanut butter, cold cuts, and the like — and all hands not on watch were required to be in their bunks. Reading was permitted for off-duty personnel, but no movies, card playing, excessive talking, or exercising were allowed.