Besides, the Chinese, as far as ul Haq knew, possessed nothing like that small, remote sonar device that was hammering at Jian's vessel.
The American was in a broad, slow turn away from the oncoming Shuhadaa Muqaddaseen, providing ul Haq with a nearly ideal shot right up the Yankee sub's ass. Perfect! …
Both Khalili and the sub's exec, Muhammad Hassan Fitaihi, stood with him, waiting expectantly, Fitaihi with an expression of almost bored self-control, Khalili with the fanatic's flame of impatience. "How long?" Khalili demanded.
"Three and a half kilometers, at fifty knots?" the exec said. "Do the math."
"It depends on what the target does, my friend," ul Haq said gently. "But at fifty knots, a torpedo travels roughly a kilometer and a half in one minute."
"So, about two minutes and twenty seconds," Khalili observed.
"More," ul Haq said, "if the American tries to outrun our torpedoes."
Which he would do, running being the only viable strategy.
But it would do him no good. The outcome, ul Haq told himself, was assured.
"Now three, repeat three torpedoes in the water, Captain," Queensly said. "Estimate speed at fifty knots. Time to impact… I make it two minutes, fifteen seconds!"
"Ahead flank!" Garrett ordered. It would take time for Virginia to claw her way up to forty knots.
"Sir, new contact… designated Sierra One-oh-four! Probable Kilo-class boat at zero-eight-eight, range approximately thirty-five hundred yards, making revs for twelve knots!"
"Snapshot, two, four, target Sierra One-zero-four!"
"Snapshot, two, four," Carpenter acknowledged. "Target Sierra One-zero-four!"
A snapshot was shooting from the hip, loosing a torpedoe without lining up the shot ahead of time. If those incoming fish were wire-guided, it might make the other fellow blink and break off before the torpedoes had acquired their own targeting lock.
Chances were, though, that the incoming torpedoes were the usual old Soviet design, free-swimming 533mm fish that were completely fire-and-forget. If so, the snapshot was more an attempt to extract revenge than anything else, a way of possibly destroying the hostile after Virginia had already been hit.
"Torpedo room! Reload tube three, on the double!"
"Torpedo room, aye aye!"
Now, more than ever, Garrett was feeling the essential difference between a Virginia-class submarine and the Seawolf he'd last commanded. Virginia possessed four torpedo tubes, while a Seawolf-class packed eight. At the moment, Virginia's tube one was out of commission, since it was currently occupied by the retractable arm used to recover the LMRS. Tubes two and four were unavailable as well, since the guidance wires for those two torpedoes would be cut if the tube doors were closed. Until those torps acquired the enemy sub on their own, he couldn't cast them off without essentially throwing them away.
Tube three alone was empty and ready to receive a new fish. He'd held off on loading it because of the noise reloading made, but that was no longer important.
Damn the penny-pinchers in the budget office! Right now, Garrett would have been willing to do just about anything in exchange for a Seawolf's eight-tube salvo capability.
"Speed now thirty knots, Captain! Thirty-two knots…"
Those hostile torpedoes would be catching up fast, still incoming at a relative speed of twenty knots or a bit less. Once Virginia reached flank speed — about forty knots — they would be catching up at a relatively slow-paced five to ten knots.
Soviet 533-mm torpedoes had a listed range of about ten miles at forty-five knots. If these had been goosed up to fifty, the range would be a bit less. How much less? The answer might determine whether Virginia lived or died as she tried to outrun those highspeed fish.
"Speed now at forty knots, Captain."
"Sonar! How are we doing?"
"Estimate range to the nearest torpedo, Captain… I make it fifteen hundred yards. Estimate time to impact now at five minutes, ten seconds."
Not enough. If those fish had a range of ten miles at 45 knots, they could run for at least ten to twelve minutes before expiring. Not fucking enough …
"Enemy torpedoes in the water!" the sonar officer announced over ul Haq's headset. "I make it two torpedoes on opposite tacks, north and south."
"Have they acquired us yet?"
"No, sir. They appear to be swinging wide, so as to close on us from opposite directions."
Trying to hem us in, ul Haq thought, to make it so we can't evade. "How long before our torpedo hits them?"
"Target is now traveling at an estimated forty knots, Captain," the sonar officer replied. "Time to impact on torpedo one… five minutes."
Five minutes. An eternity in combat. He was beginning to have the uncomfortable feeling that he'd fired too soon. If he'd waited, if he'd gotten closer, close enough that the enemy couldn't run…
"We should close with them, Captain," Khalili said. "We must be certain of the kill!"
"I don't think so," ul Haq replied. "If we do that, we guarantee our own destruction."
"A martyr's death! And we assure the destruction of one of the American supersubs!"
"It is not yet time to speak of martyrdom." Ul Haq shook his head. "Maneuvering! Hard right rudder! Bring us to new course zero-nine-zero!"
Shuhadaa might yet survive this….
"Up planes two-zero degrees," Garrett said. "Bring us up to three hundred ten feet."
"Up planes two-zero degrees, aye aye, sir. Make depth three hundred ten feet."
Virginia tilted nose-up as the planesman pulled back on the joystick. The thermocline was at 280 feet, and he wanted to be just beneath it.
Minutes crawled past… an intolerable agony of waiting and growing tension. The oncoming torpedoes changed aspect slightly, rising to meet Virginia as she moved toward the surface.
"Captain? Sonar."
"Go ahead, Queenie."
"Sir, Sierra One-zero-three just broke through the roof. The noises are faint through the thermocline and at this speed, but it sounds like he's firing up his diesels."
"Very well. Keep half an eye on the bastard, just in case he wants back in the ring."
Possibly the Chinese boat's skipper had opted out of the fight… or possibly he would rejoin the battle when he realized Virginia was under attack. Either way, there wasn't much Virginia could do about it at the moment.