John Schettler - Kirov

“They know we are listening,” said Karpov turning to the Admiral. The contact was further evidence that the scenario he had put forward was entirely correct. “Thank god I had the presence of mind to take the necessary action.” In crediting himself he stuck a bur in the Admiral, but Volsky overlooked the remark as the Captain rattled on.

“Even if we do have signatures on the American Virginia class, these boats are still very slippery, sir. That data is not yet reliable. But at least they know we are on to them now.” He turned to the Admiral, arms folded on his chest, eyes bright. “I recommend we engage the target, sir.” They had found their devious enemy, now it was time for reprisal.

The Admiral considered this, but quickly decided against an attack. “No, do not engage for the moment,” said Volsky. “If we are not at war, then we certainly don't want to begin one, do we? But instruct the nearest helicopter to vector over that position and hold station just below 600 meters. I want to be sure they can hear our rotors if they are listening. We will show them we know exactly where they are and see if that changes the situation.”

“They will take evasive maneuvers, sir,” Karpov complained. He knew that once you had exposed a potential enemy it was essential to make a quick kill. Never let a rival regain his balance once you had him by the collar-that was a lesson his years at Gazprom had taught him very well. The longer you waited, the more chance your foe had to cover his tracks, or finagle some way of escaping your well set trap. He pushed this same thought forward in military terms. “American submarines can dive very deep, Admiral, particularly this class. We may lose them. Why not strike now while we have the contact and can plot a certain firing solution? We may not get a second chance with a submarine like this.”

The Captain had a good point, and Volsky knew it. In the grueling, silent game of ship versus sub, it was the undersea boat that always had the advantage. Victory would go to the side who heard the enemy first and established a good firing solution. A weapon active in the water, ready to acquire its target, was not even a sure defense against a stealthy attack submarine. Sixty percent of the time, a sub would hear and find the surface ship first, and also shoot first. And the ship that got off the first shot then had a strong possibility of surviving intact. Was the explosion they had experienced a first shot by this submarine, a warning intending to frighten and intimidate, as Karpov suggested? Clearly this was not a friendly submarine-or was it? The Admiral considered the possibility that this might even be the Orel, damaged but still alive. The damage could be masking the boat’s IFF signals and clouding Tasarov’s ESM readings. His heavy heart wanted to believe as much, so he decided to be very cautious here.

The Captain was just a little too quick to see ‘wood goblins’ in the taiga, or so the Admiral believed. If they fired on this contact and destroyed it, they would never know whether it was Orel. He decided to wait, unwilling to escalate the situation just yet, or to fully accept Karpov’s assertion that this was a NATO attack.

“Move the helicopter, Captain. We will observe the contact’s reaction and consider the matter further. And for good measure,” he turned to his navigator now, “Mister Fedorov, plot an intercept course and put us on that heading at once. Increase speed to 20 knots.” If this were Orel, and they could hear his helicopter above them, then perhaps the boat would surface, Volsky hoped.

“It’s very odd, sir…” Fedorov spoke up.

“What is very odd?”

“My GPS navigation systems are all still down, sir. The equipment appears to be operating correctly. I’ve tried three diagnostic tests, and even reset the entire array, but I cannot acquire any satellites. I’ll have to plot by other means.”

“We are probably still experiencing the aftereffects of this undersea explosion. Carry on.”

Karpov glanced at his Chief of Operations, and the two men met eyes, but Orlov said nothing. Reluctantly, the Captain ordered Nikolin to move the helicopter as the Admiral wished. But it was clear that he was uncomfortable with the situation, and wanted to take more aggressive action at once. He was fretting nervously, his hands still rubbing away the cold with frenetic movement.

Rodenko’s deep voice sounded yet another warning. He had been monitoring telemetry from the helicopters as well. “Con-Active radar reports new surface contact, sir. Now bearing two-zero-five degrees, 80 kilometers out.” Information was now winking onto his screens, as if the ship was awakening from the stupor that had enfolded it with the thick ice fog, and was slowly coming to its senses.

The Admiral raised his thick charcoal eyebrows, surprised with this new information, though he considered it in silence for the moment.

Karpov was not so contemplative. In his mind the new surface contact was an immediate vindication of his assessment that enemy forces were indeed operating against them now. Rodenko read the signal carefully and reported.

“This is a large signal, sir. Multiple ships, but very slow, speed no more than 15 knots.”

Who was this creeping up on them from the south, thought Volsky? A large signal? He rubbed his eyes, weary, his head still aching. “How many ships?”

Rodenko was not certain. “I make it ten, possibly twelve discrete contacts, sir. It appears to be a fairly large task force.”

“Air activity?” The Admiral wanted to know if an American carrier was coming to make their acquaintance.

“No air contacts reported, sir. This appears to be a surface action group, and they are running emissions tight. I get just the whisper of a faint radar signal. Perhaps they have found a way to drastically reduce their electronic signature, sir.”

A submarine on one side, and a large surface contact on the other, both apparently moving toward his ship like two predators stealthily stalking their prey. The Admiral considered the situation. He could feel Karpov's uneasiness, feel the Captain’s eyes upon him, waiting, impatient, and eager to take further action. He knew what his Captain would advise, but there was something about the scenario that just did not make sense. The enemy was creeping up on him, inching along at slow speed. If he were mounting such an attack, he would be surging in from both sides and, at this range, missiles would already be in the air, inbound on his ship with bad intent. The struggle for the first salvo was the first lesson of naval combat in the modern era. Both contacts were well within range of his ship, yet neither one had fired. Were they waiting for him to take the next move? Given these circumstances, he decided to be very wary here.

“Very well… Designate the undersea contact as Red Wolf One. It will be tracked by KA-40 Alpha. Designate the surface action group as Red Wolf Two. Move KA-40 Bravo toward Red Wolf Two at once,” he said. “Rodenko, do you have any ESM signatures that can assist in identifying these vessels?”

“No sir. At least not in the combat database.”

“Radio emissions?”

“No, sir,” said Nikolin. “The contact is observing complete radio silence. I read nothing on typical communications bands.”

“Move KA-40 Bravo, and tell them to use their long range HD cameras to give me a visual on this surface contact. Let’s see where the dog is buried here.” The Admiral wanted to get to the heart of the matter. “We will show them we know they are here, and find out just who they are at the same time. They are well within range and would've fired on us by now if they had any aggressive intentions. The same can be said for this submarine to our north, but given this development, I think we had best turn to face this surface action group. Mr. Fedorov, hold on that submarine intercept. Helmsman, Port fifteen. Put us into a gentle turn. We will keep station here until the helo report firms up this new contact.” He voiced his reasoning, looking directly at Karpov. “So let us have a closer look, gentlemen. I want to know what I am shooting at before I commit this ship to an act of war. But keep a wary eye on that undersea contact. Karpov may yet be correct.” He threw a bone to his Captain willing to consider any possible contingency until it was proven one way or another.