Her captain picked himself up off the deck and shouted for quiet.
“Silence!” His eyes were smarting from the smoke, but he could see he had their attention. Taking the PA microphone he depressed the switch but there was not operating light, it was dead so he tossed it aside to hang by its coiled cable.
“Damage reports… get on it… and find out what the hell is causing that vibration while you are at it!”
Whilst his officers made their way along the vessel, compartment by compartment, he went around the control room speaking with the men, a few words of encouragement to settle shaken nerves.
USS Gerald Ford’s TAO allowed himself to breathe again, now that there were no longer hostile missiles in the air. The plot showed the firing positions of every soviet vessel that had taken part; at least at the time of firing anyway, and as tempting as it was to extract vengeance on those vessels for the sinking of US warships, it would have been a serious error to do so. Those vessels were missile boats, and now empty of surface to surface ordnance, but the hunter killers, the Sierras, Alfas and Akulas, still had theirs, albeit shorter ranged. Once again the Sea Hawks moved out from the ships to begin hunting once more, because those vessels were now free of their tasks of protecting the big missile submarines, and would right now be seeking to come within launch range of the convoy.
Admiral Mann took stock of his warships situations; an AEGIS cruiser, a destroyer, two frigates and an ammunition ship had been lost. A second cruiser, the Anzio, had now come about and was steaming slowly into wind, to keep the fires raging aft from spreading to the superstructure, her damage control parties were pumping gallons of seawater into the conflagration, and trying to stem the dozen or so leaks in her hull. Conrad had to detach a frigate to escort her until she could rejoin the fast moving main body. Away from the mutually protective arms of the remaining escorts she was an easy target, but they could not afford to wait for her, and certainly could not spare more than the single frigate to ward off the attack submarines that were out there.
Elsewhere, a destroyer and a frigate had suffered the effects of large warheads detonating close inboard, intercepted at the last moment by Phalanx. A further destroyer and a frigate had also endured similar narrow escapes although without the associated damage, but aboard those two vessels alarms had screeched the warning that the upper works were contaminated with a persistent nerve agent. In its gaseous form the agent had spread with the wind, contaminating two other warships, so far. The chemical warfare agents were a minimal hazard to the crews so long as the ships were closed up for NBC, but for merchant ships it would be a different story. The crews of the merchant vessels pressed into service had all been issued with nuclear, biological and chemical warfare suits, along with the requisite training in there use, but with ships not equipped for such an environment, manned by crews of a different mind-set to that of their military cousins, the effects would be devastating.
Manoeuvring to avoid burning hulks that had minutes before been ships of war, the remaining warships were even now shifting formation to fill in the gaps, reloading ready-use magazines and carrying the injured down to sickbays, readying themselves for the next onslaught.
Considering the speed with which the surface ships had emptied their magazines, the surviving ammunition ships would be unable to replenish them all inside of four hours, and the soviets were unlikely to be so obliging as to wait. Admiral Bernard’s tactics might defy health and safety, but the American’s adoption of them was about to save lives.
South of the surface ships, two hundred feet down the Murmansk’s captain had received the reports of his own commands situation without expression. Sonar was out, cracked bearings were keeping his vessel below 10knots, and his engineer was seriously concerned about the effects of going any deeper. Communications were also out, although his troops thought they could send, if not receive. The only plus was radar, it appeared to be fully functional and so he intended to take the only course of action that would fulfil their mission, locating the merchantmen carrying troops, equipment and supplies.
Summoning his communications officer he spoke quietly. “Oleg, we have arrived at the time that the Americans call ‘make or break’, and I have an important task for you.”
The young officer nodded.
“Yes captain?”
“We are about to come up to periscope depth and raise the radar mast, this will make us extremely vulnerable but it is the only way that we can complete our mission in pinpointing the troopships and cargo carriers.” He paused as he let that sink in. “We may have only moments in which to send that information to our comrades, so your mast will be raised at the same time and I need you ready to transmit, do you understand?”
The communications officers face sagged.
“But captain, the board shows only an intermittent transmission light whenever we test it, we have not been able to find the short yet!”
The captain’s reply was rueful.
“We are out of time Oleg, you must keep on transmitting, over and over until… ” he left the sentence unfinished. Slapping Oleg on the back his voice changed to one of authoritative optimism. “Perhaps the NATO boys have too many troubles of their own right now to worry about us, so come along and get back to your men.”
Turning back to address the control room, he dropped the optimism and pushed the authoritative up a notch.
“Bring us up to 50 feet, standby to raise ECM, radar and communications masts.”
As Murmansk rose to the required depth, an air of fatalism settled on her crew. Although only the officers had chosen this profession, the remainder of the crew were fiercely proud of their vessel, and the reasons, rights and wrongs of the war now counted for little, all that mattered was their role in this particular bit of it.
“Raise ECM.”
A moment or two passed once that electronic sensor emerged above the surface, but its operator’s screens remained blank, and its dials failed to register any activity.
“Up periscope.”
The device slid up out of housing, and was accompanied by a trickle of water down its shaft from damaged seals losing integrity as the periscope rose, a trickle that increased by the moment. It did not bode well, the captain could see nothing through the lenses, and switching to lo-lite illuminated nothing except the fact that that facility was also unserviceable.
“Radar… we know what’s behind us so don’t waste time with 360’s, just sweep from 30’ to 200’, understood?”
“Raise radar and communications… begin sending our position straight away.” The captain crossed to the radar position and folded his arms to mask from the crew his crossed fingers.
It took but seconds for the beam to swing back and forth but no returns showed up on the screen. Either the radar is out also, or there is nothing there, he reasoned. However, their radar had a finite range and the greater the transmitter’s height above the seas, the farther it could see.
“Conning tower party close up… standby to surface.” Turning to his 2 i/c he added. “Lieutenant Stepov, the way our lucks running the repeater will be out, you will go topside and I will remain here.”
Wet weather gear was pulled from lockers and quickly donned, the lieutenant and lookouts gathered at the bottom of the ladder.
“Surface!”
The captain’s eyes returned to the radar screen and he spoke without turning. “Communications?”