Larry Bond - Cold Choices

“Agreed, and set silence mode when we slow to five knots. Pass the word that all compartments will be personally inspected by me to make sure it’s properly set.”

“Aye, Captain.”

As the watch section hurried about to carry out his orders, Petrov forced himself to walk away and let his men do their work. He had to pour some of his excitement back into the bottle. Splash it around too much and his crew would start making mistakes. But it was so hard to just stand there and wait. Surprisingly, it didn’t take very long.

“A little over thirty minutes after setting silence mode, Petrov was summoned yet again to the central post. As he entered the command center, he found the normally bustling central command post as quiet as a morgue. Shubin was hunched over one of the BIUS consoles, staring intently at the display.

“Report,” order Petrov curtly.

“Hydroacoustic contact, Captain. Bearing red zero seven three.”

A quick glance at the BIUS display told Petrov what he needed to know. “Helmsman, rudder left full. New course three four zero. Deck Officer, quietly, I repeat quietly, set readiness condition one, combat alert. And be quick about it, Mikhail Olegovich.”

“Yes, Captain.”

While Shubin brought Severodvinsk to battle stations, Petrov quickly ducked into the sonar post where Mitrov and a senior warrant officer were busily adjusting the passive sonar settings on the control consoles, desperately trying to find the contact they had heard just moments ago.

Speaking softly Petrov asked, “What do you have for me, comrades?”

“A short sequence of transients, Captain, bearing red zero seven three. Definitely mechanical in nature,” replied Mitrov.

“Show me,” demanded Petrov.

The warrant officer handed his captain a set of headphones and called up the historical display and replayed the signal. Sure enough, there was a faint series of mechanical-sounding clunks to the north. His men had done well to pick up the weak signal with all the ice noise around them.

“Captain. ” whispered Mitrov as he pointed toward his display. There on the screen, amid the interfering speckles from the ice, appeared a faint coherent trace, and then another.

As the three men watched the trace lines slowly get longer, Kalinin stuck his head into the small room. “Captain, combat alert has…” A sharp wave of Petrov’s hand cut his starpom off.

In total silence, Petrov watched as the first trace got a little stronger, showing a slight left-bearing drift. The second contact was much weaker and had no discernible bearing rate at all. Mitrov hit a few buttons and an automatic tracker locked on to each of the contacts and started sending data to the fire-control system. With a wicked grin on his face, Petrov turned toward Kalinin and said, “We have him, Vasiliy. We have him!”

USS Seawolf

ETC Hudson had expected to find his department head fast asleep. He didn’t monitor Lieutenant Mitchell’s every move, but by his reckoning, the young officer was running about half empty, and that will catch up with a body after a while. Nobody wanted a cranky lieutenant.

But Mr. Mitchell was up and half buried in paperwork. The door was open, but Hudson still rapped politely on the doorframe. Jerry looked up and smiled. “Chief, excellent, come in. Here are the draft E-6 evaluations you gave me last week. I’ve made some changes. ”

Hudson glanced at the forms, marked with a red pen, then reported. “They’re preparing to recover LaVerne, sir.”

Jerry sighed and pushed himself back from the desk. “So soon?”

“They’ve already deployed the recovery arm.”

“Thanks, Chief, I’ll be along. ”

Suddenly the BONG, BONG, BONG of the general alarm filled the passageway, and both men dashed for the control room. The captain had promised that once UUV operations started, there would be no drills. Something was very wrong.

Jerry held in his questions as he hurried over to the plotting table by the fire-control consoles. He listened as Will Hayes quickly turned the deck over to Stan Lavoie, the General Quarters OOD. “New sonar contact, Sierra three zero, is on our port quarter, bearing one six five. The computer says it’s a submerged contact, close by at slow speed, with a zero bearing rate. Tracking party’s still getting set up, so they can’t confirm.”

Then Captain Rudel showed up and Hayes had to repeat himself. He’d barely finished when Rudel asked, “And the UUV?”

Hayes shook his head. “Still approaching the basket. About five hundred yards to port. ”

Hayes’s report was cut short when the WLR-9 acoustic intercept receiver started wailing.

“Conn, sonar, Mouse Squeak transmissions in the direction of Sierra three zero. Bearing one six five.”

Rudel quickly looked at the WLR-9 display and saw that the transmission frequency and pulse type matched the collision-avoidance/mine-hunting sonar on Russian submarines. “Mr. Mitchell, get the arm back inside, and send the UUV away.”

Jerry acknowledged the order and checked the chart. There was a likely spot over deep water a few miles from here, and it was already programmed..

“Conn, sonar! Sierra three zero is increasing speed!” There was concern in the sonar supervisor’s voice. A few seconds later, the intercom announced, “Sierra three zero is cavitating! Near zero bearing rate!” The last word was almost shouted over the intercom. Jerry recognized ST1 Stapp’s voice. He wasn’t easily rattled.

“Captain, recovery arm is stowed and the outer door is shut on tube two,” reported Shimko as he took his battle-stations position by the fire-control consoles.

“Very well, XO. I want a TMA solution on Sierra three zero immediately. Engineer, get us moving.”

Both men responded with, “Aye, aye, sir.”

“Conn, sonar. Sierra three zero’s speed is thirty-plus knots. Blade rate does not match any known Russian submarine.”

Rudel and Shimko looked at each other, both confused by the sonar supervisor’s report. Rudel reached up to the intercom. “Sonar, conn. Please confirm your last.”

“Conn, sonar. Sierra three zero’s acoustic signature does not match any, repeat any, known Russian submarine.”

“Who the hell are we dealing with?” asked Shimko.

“We’ll worry about that later, XO. For now, let’s concern ourselves with getting out of here.”

“Yessir!” Shimko replied enthusiastically. Then ten seconds later, “Captain, WAA range is… is seven hundred yards and closing!”

“Conn, sonar. Sierra three zero is closing rapidly. Bearing rate is slightly to the left.”

“He’s passing down our port side!” exclaimed Shimko.

“Helm, hard right rudder!” shouted Rudel.

“Captain has the conn,” announced Lavoie. While this statement would appear trivial to an outside observer, particularly given the circumstance, its importance was crucial. From this point on, until Rudel decided otherwise, he was giving the conning orders and everyone in control needed to know this.

A moment later Jerry heard the noise himself, right though the hull. It started as a soft rush, like a ventilation fan in high speed, but a few seconds later it was a solid rumble, and then a loud swishing that could be felt as well as heard.

A few more seconds and the sound was past them. Just as it started to fade Jerry felt a vibration in the deck and then the whole boat was rocked first to starboard and then to port. Jerry had been leaning against the chart table and had reflexively grabbed at it. The watch stared at each other, wide-eyed.

Severodvinsk

“Sonar officer reports closest point of approach was four hundred meters,” said Kalinin.