Schwartz shifted his gaze between the three consoles, then tapped one of the fire control technicians on the shoulder. “Promote to master.”
“Solution ready!” Schwartz reported.
“Ship ready!” the Officer of the Deck announced, reporting the submarine was ready to launch additional decoys and jammers.
Buglione’s eyes shifted to his Weapons Officer, Lieutenant Reese, manning the Weapon Control Console and in communication with the Torpedo Room. He could not report Weapon Ready until Torpedo Tube One was flooded down, equalized with sea pressure, and the muzzle door opened. That took time.
Time Pittsburgh didn’t have.
They had been following Kazan closely, at only two thousand yards. A fifty-knot torpedo fired from two thousand yards would close the distance to Pittsburgh in barely a minute. Normally, that would be enough time to counterfire. However, Pittsburgh wasn’t combat ready. Aside from the Fire Control Tracking Party, Pittsburgh was in a normal watch rotation, with only a single torpedoman on watch. He’d have his hands full preparing the torpedo tubes for firing.
Sonar’s next report was one Buglione had been dreading.
“Torpedo is range-gating! One thousand yards!”
The Russian torpedo was homing, increasing the rate of its sonar pings to more accurately determine the range to its target, so a refined intercept course could be calculated. The important question was whether the torpedo was about to intercept Pittsburgh or its decoy.
Buglione studied the torpedo bearings. They remained the same — the torpedo was locked on to Pittsburgh.
“Launch jammer!” Buglione ordered.
The Officer of the Deck ejected a broadband noise jammer into the water, attempting to overwhelm the torpedo’s sonar processing.
“Fifteen seconds to impact!” Sonar reported.
“Helm, hard left rudder, steady course one-one-zero!”
Buglione turned Pittsburgh ninety degrees again, the large rudder putting a knuckle into the water as it swung sideways, twisting the submarine to port. Hopefully, the jammer and the swirling water in the knuckle, which distorted sonar returns, would sufficiently confuse the torpedo.
But the torpedo was too close. It sped past the jammer and got enough of a return through the water knuckle to detect Pittsburgh’s turn to port. It twisted nimbly onto the new course of its target, which loomed directly ahead. It closed the remaining distance in a few seconds.
Buglione watched the torpedo bearings remain constant as Pittsburgh steadied on its new course. They hadn’t shaken the torpedo.
Wrapping one arm around the starboard periscope, Buglione braced himself for the explosion, but even his firm grip wasn’t enough to keep him from being knocked to the deck as the torpedo exploded, ripping through Pittsburgh’s pressure hull.
A loud, wrenching metallic sound tore through the ship, and the stern tilted downward — the Engine Room was flooding.
With a flooded Engine Room, there was no hope. Pittsburgh was going down.
“Launch a SEPIRB buoy!” Buglione ordered.
The order was relayed to the Signal Ejector Watch, who inserted a SEPIRB — Submarine Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacon — buoy into the signal ejector, launching it. Upon surfacing, the SEPIRB buoy would transmit a submarine distress message, reporting Pittsburgh’s position.
In Kazan’s Central Command Post, the torpedo explosion rumbled through the submarine’s hull. Plecas put broadband sonar on the Command Post speakers, and a moment later, a deep rumbling sound indicated the American submarine had plowed into the ocean floor.
Cheers erupted in the Command Post, but Plecas didn’t share the enthusiasm. He had sent a submarine crew to the bottom.
He stopped by the navigation table, examining water depth. Having just transited through the GIUK Gap, they were still in water just over two hundred meters deep, which meant any intact compartment in the American submarine wouldn’t implode. The men in those compartments would survive, at least until their air turned toxic. Hopefully, the crew would be rescued before then.
Plecas turned his attention from the American submarine to his own. Following their torpedo launch, he had ordered Kazan to maximum speed and a new course in case the Americans counterfired. As expected, firing from such a close range had left them with insufficient time to respond.
“Steersman, ahead standard. Left ten degrees rudder, steady course one-eight-zero.”
Kazan turned south as it slowed, quietly traversing away from the explosion reverberating through the ocean depths.
As Kazan began its trek toward the United States, Plecas reviewed the critical elements of his plan in his mind. Now that they had attacked an American submarine, Russia’s Northern Fleet would no doubt wonder if Kazan was somehow involved and inquire. In the ensuing radio communications, his crew could not learn that their order to launch a missile strike against the United States was fake. Plecas had thought ahead, developing a contingency plan for this scenario.
“Attention in the Command Post,” he announced. “Now that we have attacked an American submarine, the American Navy will be hunting us. We must take every measure to ensure we are not detected until we are in position to launch.
“One of those measures is complete radio silence. American surface warships and submarine hunter aircraft have radars that can detect a periscope or communications antenna once raised, and the Americans have satellites that can pinpoint radio transmissions at sea. We will make no transmissions, nor will we proceed to periscope depth to copy the broadcast. Any questions?”
There were none, and the watchstanders returned to their duties.
Plecas left his crew at Combat Stations, just in case there was another American submarine in the area.
32
WASHINGTON, D.C.
“The president wants us in the Situation Room.”
Captain Glen McGlothin, the president’s senior military aide, looked up as Chief of Staff Kevin Hardison stopped in his office doorway, delivering the news.
“What’s up?” McGlothin asked.
“SecDef Drapac and OPNAV N97 are on the way from the Pentagon to brief the president.”
McGlothin wondered what could be so important to warrant a visit by the secretary of defense and the Navy’s Director of Undersea Warfare. Before he could ask, Hardison added, “Admiral Blaszczyk and Dawn Cabral are on the way too.”
Something big was brewing. The Chief of Naval Operations was joining them, and the secretary of state’s presence meant the issue had international implications.
“What’s the topic?”
“They think USS Pittsburgh has been attacked by a Russian submarine.”
McGlothin and Hardison were the first to arrive in the Situation Room, joined shortly by National Security Advisor Thom Parham, Secretary of State Dawn Cabral, and Press Secretary Lars Sikes. The president arrived moments later, followed by SecDef Tom Drapac and two admirals: Chief of Naval Operations Tom Blaszczyk, and the Director of Undersea Warfare, Rear Admiral Pat Urello. The president took his seat at the head of the table, joined by the eight other men and women in the Situation Room.