“Pretty fair for the Lightnings, but rough for the Hornets. We might manage twenty knots over the deck with the present wind. I’m not sure we can take off the angle,” the XO said.
Toland nodded. “Just do as best you can, XO. Any idea of casualties?”
“Not yet. Right now we’re concentrating on keeping her afloat. The rest can come later. What’s the Admiral doing?” the XO asked.
Toland chuckled. “He’s upset that the submarine didn’t do its job. God help me, I was ready to strangle him.”
A Chief Corpsman appeared with his gear and rushed over. After a quick exam, he told them it was a simple fracture. He gave Toland a shot to ease the pain, then set the arm. He then put it in a temporary inflatable cast and told him to report to sick bay when he could.
After launching three torpedoes, Captain Dobrinin played it safe and moved away. They had been tracking the carrier and when she sailed right into his lap, he sent in his torpedoes. He and his crew were rewarded with three loud explosions on the bearing. The propeller noises ceased and they were certain they had sunk an American nuclear powered aircraft carrier. Heading away at a rapid pace, he stopped after a half hour to see if they could hear something. His sonar operators reported metallic noises, but except for some escorts, he didn’t hear any heavy screws.
“You are sure there are no sounds from that carrier?” Dobrinin asked.
“None, Captain. I can hear some destroyers, and frigates but nothing heavy,” he said.
Dobrinin nodded his head. “And no one following us?”
“We are well clear of any contacts, Captain.”
Dobrinin clapped his hands together. “Good. Then we wait for a while and see what else comes along. If the American ships hang around, we may hunt us another target,” he said. Already Dobrinin was seeing a medal being placed on his chest. To be a hero of the nation would suit him just fine.
“I’m picking up some steam plant noises bearing 297,” reported the sonar watch. “They are distant, but there.”
“Any idea who yet?” asked Jacobs.
“Not yet, Captain. The sound is intermittent, but there. It’s almost like somebody decided to speed up a bit. No screw noises, but a steady frequency. The computer is crunching the noise now. Give me a few and I’ll be able to give you a possible course and speed,” said Petty Officer Faris. Inside the sonar compartment, not much bigger than a closet, he sat with his headphones clamped tightly over his head. Periodically, he would reach up and adjust a knob to filter out some sounds. Initially the computer could not match the sound with any previously recorded submarine sounds, but the sounds were very weak and there was some interference. As they got closer, this would be cleared up.
Faris had come in the Navy straight out of high school. His parents had constantly urged him to get out and get a job just like his father had. The last of three boys, he had done as his family wished, except that he had gone into the Navy. They had expected him to work construction like his siblings, but he was different. He wanted a college degree and since his father wouldn’t send him, he would make it happen himself. He also had an acute sense of hearing. In some ways he could hear things far better than anyone where he had grown up. Rock music had never been for him. His music library consisted of orchestral music from classics to modern motion picture themes. In his sonarman “A” school, he took great pleasure in finding and identifying sounds way before his peers. Aboard the Texas, his Chief had made sure to put him on the watch opposite himself just so he could be sure the captain had the best team on duty.
Ten minutes later, the computer printed out a report. His contact was the Yasen Class submarine named Kazan. It was one of the newer submarines in the Russian service. The first recording of it had been made just a year before. This was one of their elite. “Conn, sonar, contact verified as Yasen class submarine Kazan. Distance thirty eight thousand, course 117, speed fifteen,” Faris reported.
“Headed back toward us, huh?” replied the Captain from behind him.
Faris turned to see that his captain was standing behind him in the small room. He had been so intent on his contact that he hadn’t noticed him. He gave the captain a smile. “Yes, sir, that might be why she sped up. I figure she shagged after her first shot and is coming back to pick off the remnants,” he said.
“I believe you’re right. No trouble picking him up?”
Faris shook his head. “No sir, since our guys stopped running all over the Atlantic, I have been able to pick up a lot. Most notably, I have been able to tell that the carrier didn’t sink. There’s a lot of work going on over there, but she’s still afloat. I can also hear helicopters working nearby, but nothing close. They might get a hit on this guy, but I doubt it. He’s below the layer,” he said confidently.
“Well, I don’t have time to go up and talk to them, so that just leaves it to us, doesn’t it?” the Captain said with a grin. “Keep on him Faris, he can’t bloody our nose and get away with it, now can he?” Jacobs said.
“I’ve got him, Captain. We’ll track him all the way in.”
“Good man,” said Jacobs, patting the man on the shoulder. He then left the compartment and stepped back into the control room. “Set everything up on contact alpha charlie. I think he’s on his way back to us. Make sure to stay deep and quiet. Are the tubes still ready?” he asked.
“Loaded and ready. I also have two decoys ready, just in case he tries to take a poke at us. We can shoot anytime once we flood the tubes,” said Lieutenant Larson, the diving officer.
“Good. Let’s maintain this heading but slow to ten. Take our time on this and we’ll bag this guy,” Jacobs said.
“Conn, sonar, the carrier has just started moving.”
After a few minutes, the color had returned to Toland’s face. Although his arm ached, the pain killers had taken a lot of the edge off. He was now sitting upright in his seat.
“Bridge, DC Central,” came the voice over the bitch box. It was the Damage Control Assistant. Toland hit the switch. “Captain here. What’s the status?”
“She’ll float, Captain. Fires are out and the reflash watches are set. I got the leak stopped in number four engine room. The flooding is now confined mostly in voids and fuel tanks. We may have lost about four hundred thousand gallons of jet fuel, but at least it didn’t ignite. We’ve started looking for casualties. I expect we may have lost a couple hundred guys in all those working spaces. We better start getting a head count to make sure. I won’t be able to get into some of the spaces until we drydock,” he reported.
Toland looked at his watch. It had been an hour since the explosions. In the excitement and constant reports the time had seemed to take only seconds. “Good work. Keep at it and make sure we are covering the bases. We came too close for comfort and I don’t want to get that close again,” he said.
“Don’t worry, Captain. I have put watches at all the compartments that are flooded. If anything leaks, they’ll sing out,” the DCA said.
“Come fill me in when you have something,” Toland said. He pressed the button for Main Control in engineering. “Chief Engineer, this is the Captain.”
“CHENG here, Captain.”
“Tom, can we make some speed?”
“I got three shafts. After talking to my people, we can give you about fifteen,” the Chief Engineer said.
“Thanks, CHENG. Keep me posted,” Toland said. He turned toward the XO. “XO, let’s get this show on the road. Turn her into the wind and order up fifteen knots. That should give us about twenty five knots over the deck. Then set flight quarters,” he ordered.