Larry Bond - Cold Choices

“That’s old news,” Silas commented. “The Seahawk pilot’s been back an hour, and he’s still twitching from seeing those Flankers.”

Baker shook his head. “No, Commander. According to Rudel, after the fighters left, a May patrol aircraft showed up and buzzed them at very low altitude — with an open weapons bay.”

Concern flashed through Patterson, and she saw it in the others’ expressions. “They wouldn’t dare.”

“They’ve violated the incidents at sea agreement,” Baker observed. “I wonder what else they’d be willing to do.”

“This is the first time an American sub has operated openly that far north. As touchy as they are, Seawolf’s mere presence would anger them. Imagine how they must feel after the collision with Severodvinsk. And as far as they are concerned we sank their submarine. And even though it was an accident, they’re bound to be more paranoid than usual.”

Patterson studied her copy. “Washington’s asking for my recommendations.” She sounded a little amused.

Baker replied, “You are the mission commander, ma’am.” He smiled, but his tone was serious. “You don’t make ‘recommendations.’”

“My feelings exactly, Captain. Please take Churchill into the exclusion zone and rendezvous with Seawolf. So far the Russians have threatened an unarmed helicopter and a damaged submarine. Let’s even up the odds and see if that improves their behavior.”

Baker stood and started to leave, but stopped at the door. “Speed, ma’am?”

“As fast as you can get us there.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am.” He was smiling as he left.

Silas looked worried, but Patterson didn’t give him a chance to speak. “Get our team in the wardroom right away. We’re going to need to put together messages to State, SUBGRU Two, Wright, Seawolf , and especially the Russians.”

The deck surged forward as Churchill increased her speed; they felt the deck vibration as all four gas turbines slammed their power into the two shafts.

“They may not want to talk to Seawolf, but we’ll make them talk to us.”

She looked at Lindstrom. “Besides, you’re supposed to be the advance man for Marine Diving and Salvage. You can’t do any good fifty miles from Severodvinsk.”

9 October 2008

1030/10:30 AM

USS Seawolf

Jerry and Shimko were both in control when they received the message. Captain Rudel was still topside, so Jerry volunteered to take it up to him. The fresh air helped settle his queasy stomach.

The bridge was roomier with only Hayes, the lookout, and the captain. “Message from USS Churchill, Skipper. They’re coming to join us.”

Rudel smiled broadly. “It will be nice to see a friendly face.” The message stated Churchill’s intentions and ETA, in a little over two and a half hours.

“They’re going to ignore the Russians’ exclusion zone,” Jerry observed.

“I’ll still be glad for the company. Particularly given the Russians’ behavior as of late,” Rudel answered. There was a hint of relief in his tone.

The lookout called down, “Sir, air contact to the southwest, just above the horizon.”

Hayes and Rudel instantly turned their glasses in that direction. Jerry had to wait, then borrowed the pair that Hayes was using. He’d anticipated more fighters, but this was worse: two Kamov antisubmarine helicopters.

“Ka-27 Helixes,” Rudel announced as Jerry got his first look, and of course he was right. These helicopters carried their ordnance externally, but they were still too far away for Jerry to see whether or not they were armed.

Rudel didn’t wait to find out. “Sound General Quarters.” Hayes passed the order below, and soon thereafter the BONG, BONG, BONG of the general alarm reverberated from the access trunk. As Jerry handed him back his binoculars and stepped toward the open hatch, Rudel told him, “Tell the XO I’m staying up here.”

“Aye, sir.” Jerry couldn’t see the point in the captain staying topside, but there was little precedent for where the captain of a surfaced nuclear sub should be during General Quarters.

Jerry ran into the organized chaos of the control room and passed the captain’s message on. The XO nodded, although he didn’t look comfortable with Rudel’s decision. Wordlessly, he pointed to the plotting table by the fire-control displays, Jerry’s GQ station.

Shimko took station near the useless periscopes. These helicopters were harbingers of the approaching Russian surface task force, a group that contained some pretty significant firepower. Their radar was down, as was the ESM system, and all the bow arrays were useless. They could still use the wide-aperture array on flanks, but they had to steer a beam manually. That was it. They were almost blind.

Jerry tried to imagine what Seawolf could see or do. She could fire a torpedo while surfaced, since the tubes were still functional, but you couldn’t torpedo a helicopter. Besides, they didn’t want to shoot at anybody. This was supposed to be a rescue mission, not a wartime patrol.

Rudel’s voice came over the intercom a moment later. “Control, bridge. This is the Captain. I have the deck and the conn.” The watch section acknowledged the relinquishing of command from Mr. Hayes to the captain, but not without an odd look. A couple of minutes later, both Hayes and the lookout came in to control and repeated Rudel’s intention to stay topside. Confused, Will Hayes shrugged his shoulders. Shimko nodded silently. Jerry could see the XO was even less of a happy camper now. Hayes then sat at one of the blank fire-control consoles, his General Quarters station.

“Control, bridge. Both Helixes are armed.” Rudel’s voice described their movements. “One’s coming straight in. The other’s pacing us a hundred yards to port.”

Jerry and the others could only wait. Seawolf was out of her natural element, and defenseless. Without her electronic sensors, the watchstanders in control had to rely on Rudel’s running commentary of the events up on deck.

“The first is passing directly over us. They’re loaded with four depth charges.” That was bad. Russian air-dropped antisubmarine torpedoes only work against submerged subs, but a Helix could set a depth charge to detonate at shallow depth, say thirty feet. Dropped at close range, it would shatter Seawolf’s hull.

“They’re not responding to my hails on the bridge-to-bridge radio.” Rudel then added, “The helicopter to port is lowering its dipping sonar.”

Most antisubmarine helicopters either carried a small sonar at the end of a cable or dropped expendable sonobuoys. Ka-27 Helix helicopters could carry sonobuoys along with the dipping sonar, but only at the expense of ordnance. To hunt for a sub, a Helix driver would be directed to a likely spot where the crew would then lower the sonar “ball” into the water, and listen. If they didn’t hear the sub, they could actively search, or ping, for it by transmitting an intense burst of acoustic energy and then listen for the echo. The main advantage of a dipping sonar was that it could change its search depth by raising or lowering the array. This negated a submarine’s ability to hide from a shallow sensor by ducking below the thermocline.

While nuclear subs are fast and maneuverable compared to other warships, helicopters can run rings around them. They needed a cue from some other sensor on where to start looking, but if they found you, it was hell to get away.

“Conn, sonar, Lamb Tail sonar on the WLR-9, bearing zero four seven. Signal strength is off the scale.” The intercept repeater in control beeped away angrily, alerting the occupants to the presence of a threat emitter.