Authors: David Capps
Chinese Submarine, Pacific Ocean, Off the Coast of Oregon
Guang Xi woke to the sound of alarms screeching.
“What’s going on?” he shouted above the din.
“Enemy torpedoes,” the tech shouted. “We have to get our torpedoes into the water before it’s too late!” The tech opened the first torpedo tube door and plugged in the programming cord. He ran toward the programming console but never made it. The first explosion rocked the sub, knocking Guang Xi to the side of the torpedo room. One of the storage racks still full of mini-nuke mines broke loose from both the deck and the ceiling, falling sideways onto the downed torpedo tech, crushing him. The second explosion came from the other side, slamming Guang Xi against the other side of the torpedo room.
Sea water began spraying into the torpedo room from broken pipes, cracked seams and the open torpedo tube door. The sub tipped toward the back end and Guang Xi felt the sub moving down. Air pressure inside the sub was increasing rapidly, hurting his ears. There was still one mini-nuke mine that was not being sprayed with sea water. Guang Xi grabbed his programming panel and plugged it into the interface connector on the mine. The lights in the sub flickered and then went out, plunging him into total darkness. He screamed as his eardrums ruptured under the pressure as sea water began pouring in through the doorway that led to the rest of the sub. The only light was the display panel on his programming panel. He entered the activation code that armed the mine. The rising sea water swirled around him, lifting him up and away from the mine. He swam back to the mine which was about to disappear under the water. He ran a quick calculation for the timer in his mind, punched in the numbers and hit the button to start the countdown.
The rushing water washed him away from the mini-nuke mine and lifted him to the ceiling of the torpedo room. He gasped for the last remaining air in a gap in the overhead. First, loud groaning sounds wracked into his head and then extreme cracking and banging sounds. The pressure suddenly spiked, forcing out what little remaining air he had in his lungs. The last thing he felt was the metal structure of the sub suddenly squashing him.
U.S.S. Massachusetts, Pacific Ocean, Off the Coast of Oregon
Meanwhile, Captain Paul Jacobs stood in the control center of the
Massachusetts
.
“Torpedoes are actively pinging,” Stephanos said. “High speed torpedo screws.”
The torpedoes were closing in for the kill.
“How long?” Jacobs asked.
“Eight seconds,” Stephanos replied. “Cavitation from the Alfa’s screws. They’re trying to run. Noise makers deployed.”
Jacobs looked at the tactical display.
Noise makers aren’t going to work. The advanced capability of the torpedoes will filter out all of the distracting sounds.
“First torpedo, direct hit,” Stephanos reported. He paused. “Second torpedo, also a direct hit. Sounds of flooding and air escaping.” Everyone waited in silence as the deadly drama played out. “Ghost sub is sinking, Sir. Screw sounds have stopped; all systems have shut down. Only sounds of escaping air now, Sir.” Three minutes later Stephanos said, “Hull is collapsing, Sir, crush depth exceeded.”
“Helm, bring us up to 1000 feet.” Jacobs ordered.
“Making depth 1000 feet, aye-aye, Sir.”
“We need to take a look around and find out where that Chinese Frigate is. Then maybe we can report back in to COMSUBPAC. They need to know about the earthquake that’s coming,” Jacobs said.
As the
Massachusetts
rose above the thermocline, at 1,000 feet the sonar room called in: “Con, sonar, multiple surface contacts, two Chinese Frigates, one bearing 340, range 28,000 yards, and the other bearing 260, range 8,000 yards.”
“Shit,” Jacobs said. “Helm, take us back down to 1,500 feet, make your course 060 degrees, speed sixteen knots.”
Before the helm could answer, the sonar room cut in, “Con, sonar, active pinging from the closest Frigate. They may have us, Sir, focused pings in our direction. Torpedo in the water, high speed screws, sounds like a TU-8, Sir.”
“Fire Control, make the closest Chinese Frigate target one for tubes one and two, silent approach until 200 yards from the target, then full speed and active pinging. Let me know as soon as you have a firing solution,” Jacobs ordered.
“Con, sonar, second torpedo in the water, high speed screws, third torpedo now in the water, they’re on to us, Sir.”
“Deploy noisemakers,” Jacobs ordered.
“Noisemakers deployed.”
“Helm, come to course 180, maintain silent running.”
“Captain, firing solution complete for tubes one and two.”
“Fire tubes one and two,” Jacobs ordered.
“Con, sonar, fourth torpedo in the water, Sir, high speed screws, all heading toward us.”
“Fire Control, set all four MOSS decoy torpedoes toward the Frigate, standard spread and let me know as soon as you are ready.”
Let’s see what their torpedoes do when it sounds like our sub is coming right at them from four different places.
“MOSS decoy torpedoes ready, Sir.”
“Fire tubes 5 through 8.”
“Tubes 5 through 8 fired, Sir, standard spread pattern.”
“Torpedo room, con, start loading 4 more MOSS decoy torpedoes in tubes 5 through 8. Let me know as soon as that is complete.”
“Aye-aye, Sir,” Lieutenant Grimes replied.
“Con, sonar, incoming torpedoes are not going for the noisemakers, Sir, MOSS decoys now going active,”
Jacobs turned to Silverton, “Torpedo run time on one and two?”
Silverton checked the electronic display, “Less than ten minutes, Sir, should we have gone straight to high speed?”
“That would have given them too much time for countermeasures,” Jacobs said. “The Chinese have recently demonstrated an anti-torpedo torpedo. We can’t take the risk of losing both of our torpedoes.”
“Con, sonar, looks like the Chinese torpedoes are going for the decoys.”
Jacobs checked the electronic tactical display. It showed the Chinese Frigate designated as Target One was now at bearing 270, range 7,000 yards. “Helm, make your course 250 degrees.”
“We’re heading
toward
the Frigate?” Silverton asked.
“If you were commanding the frigate and were going after an enemy sub, would you expect it to run away?”
“Absolutely,” Silverton answered.
“So, let’s not,” Jacobs replied. “The thermocline will give us some cover from the active pinging. Besides, they have to figure out if they actually hit us with any of their four torpedoes before they do anything else. By that time our torpedoes will be right on them.”
Four explosions rocked the
Massachusetts
as the incoming torpedoes collided with the MOSS decoys.
“Con, sonar, torpedoes one and two both in active pinging, high speed screws, three seconds to impact – two, one.” The two shockwaves hit the Massachusetts a second apart before the sound could get there. “Torpedoes one and two, direct hit, Sir, secondary explosions inside the frigate, Sir.” Everyone waited in silence for the next report. “More explosions, Sir, she’s breaking up, sinking fast.”
As the
Massachusetts
passed to the south of the sinking frigate the only sounds were the creaking and crunching of the ship’s metal hull as it sank deeper into the Pacific Ocean. Jacobs turned to Silverton. “The second Chinese Frigate?”
“Headed straight for us at flank speed,” Silverton said.
Jacobs shook his head. “Helm, come to course 340.”
“Heading 340 degrees, aye-aye, Sir.”
“Fire Control, give me a firing solution for the second Chinese frigate, designate as Target Two for tubes three and four, silent approach to 200 yards then active pinging and high speed screws, torpedoes to run a parallel path, 500 yards apart. Notify me when you have a solution.”
Thirty seconds later Fire Control answered, “Firing solution complete, Sir.”
“Fire tubes three and four,” he ordered.
“Tubes three and four fired, Sir, torpedoes on their way.”
“Helm, bring us to 500 feet.”
“Making depth 500 feet, Sir,” the helmsman answered.
* * *
Tiffany’s crew was scrambling, loading the MOSS decoy torpedoes. Though the decoys were smaller and lighter in weight than the Mark 48’s she still had to be careful. One mistake and the
Massachusetts
would lose its combat capability. Now intimately engaged in the loading process, she handed members tools, took tools from them to keep their hands from any wasted motions, helping her team become a seamless efficient mechanism.
She watched the clock as critical seconds swept away. The first MOSS was loaded. A seaman flooded the tube as the rest of her crew shifted to the second torpedo. Clamps were removed, and the lifting mechanism was assembled in place. Her team drove the torpedo forward and into position for the loading tray. Eight minutes and twelve seconds load time on the first MOSS.
* * *
As the
Massachusetts
rose above the 1,000 feet thermocline, Jacobs asked Stephanos, “Contacts?”
“Only contact is the Chinese frigate, designated as Target Two, range 20,000 yards and closing fast, Sir.”
Jacobs turned to Silverton. “Run time on torpedoes three and four?”
“Fifteen minutes, Sir,” Silverton answered.
“Okay,” Jacobs replied, “We’ll wait at 500 feet, once Target Two goes down; we’ll go to periscope depth and report in to COMSUBPAC.”
“Aye-aye, Sir,” Silverton answered.
“Torpedo room, con, status?”
“Loading third MOSS decoy torpedo into tube 7, Sir,” Lieutenant Grimes replied. “Almost in, Sir.”
“Stop at third MOSS in tube 7. Start loading Mark 48, Mod 7’s in tubes one through four.”
“Aye-aye, Sir,” she replied.
* * *
Tiffany’s crew shifted to work on a Mark 48 as the seaman flooded the tube with the third MOSS inside. She watched closely as the second hand swept around the clock. The last torpedo had gone in in under eight minutes. Adrenalin pounded in her veins as she was sure it pounded in her crew’s veins. She glanced again at the clock as the lifting mechanism rolled forward and the Mark 48 was transferred to the loading tray.
* * *
Jacobs watched the electronic tactical display as the two torpedoes closed in on the second Chinese Frigate. The run time that ticked away in the upper right corner of the display counted down with less than thirty seconds to go.
“It’s been a hell of a day, Sir,” Silverton said.
“It has,” Jacobs replied.
“Con, sonar, torpedoes three and four going to active pinging, high speed screws.” Jacobs waited. “Direct hit,” Stephanos paused. “Second direct hit, Sir. Secondary explosions; she’s breaking up, Sir.”
“Okay,” Jacobs said. “Helm, take us up to periscope depth.”
“Periscope depth, aye-aye, Sir.”
As the
Massachusetts
rose toward the surface a panicked voice came from the sonar room, “Con, sonar, multiple splashes on the surface. Probable rocket launched torpedoes in the water, high speed screws and active pinging. Screw pattern confirms TU-7 rocket launched torpedoes.”
“Dammit,” Jacobs swore. “They must have launched as soon as our torpedoes went to active pinging. How many torpedoes?”
“Two, three… four active torpedoes, two, no three actively pinging sono-buoys in the water, we’re lit up like a Christmas tree!” Sono-buoys floated on the surface and sent sonar pings down into the ocean, helping the torpedoes locate the sub.
Jacobs, Silverton and Adams quickly assessed the electronic tactical display. “Four active torpedoes, are in the water, roughly in the shape of a square. We’re on the western edge,” Silverton said. “Active torpedo on each corner.”
“Helm, hard right rudder, come to course 090, flank speed. Fire Control, fire the MOSS decoys in tubes 5 through 7 on my command, standard spread.”
“Aye-aye, Sir,” Fire Control replied.
Jacobs watched as the Chinese torpedoes all turned in the direction of the
Massachusetts
. As the submarine’s heading crossed the 90 degree mark Jacobs said, “Fire tubes 5 through 7, now.”
“Tubes 5 through 7 fired, Sir.”
“Lieutenant Grimes, where are we on the Mark 48’s?”
“Still loading the first one, Sir, almost there.”
“Rig the Mark 48 for guide-by-wire, Lieutenant, tell me as soon as it’s ready to fire.”
“Aye-aye, Sir.”
“Con, sonar, decoys went active.”
“How many following the decoys?” Jacobs asked.
“Three. Torpedo to the north is still locked on us Sir, fifteen hundred yards and closing fast.”
“Helm, hard left rudder, come to course 000, flank speed.”
“Aye-aye, Sir.”
“Torpedo room, con, where are we?”
“Torpedo loaded, Sir, inner door closed, flooding tube, rigged for guide-by-wire. As soon as the pressure is equalized we can open the outer door and fire, Sir,” Lieutenant Grimes answered.
“Incoming torpedo at 800 yards and closing fast.”
“Come on, Lieutenant, we’re out of time,” Jacobs said.
“Opening outer door, Sir,” she answered.
“Fire as soon as that door is clear!”
“Five hundred yards, four hundred, three hundred, two, one hundred…”
“Torpedo fired,” Fire Control answered.
“You’ve got to hit that thing dead…”
The force of the blast jolted the entire sub. Loose objects flew through the air scattering across the deck. People were knocked out of their chairs, slammed into their consoles and slid across the deck. Jacobs, Silverton and Adams were hurled forward onto the deck, smashing into the forward bulkhead. Displays went dark and the lights went out.