“The Russian Kilo-class subs the Chinese bought are fitted with the same Arfa collision-avoidance sonar we use. Our first transmission, just for a short time, probably showed up as a spike on their display. That warned them we were out there. Then, we ran it continuously as we approached the wrecks, it not only confirmed our presence, but gave him a beacon to line up his shot.”
Jain admitted, “I made an assumption about the mine-hunting sonar that almost killed us. I failed to ask a very important question about who or what might be searching for us. Well, we know they’ll be searching for us now.”
19
FLAMING DATUM
“CAPTAIN TO CONTROL,” blared the 1MC, the ship’s general announcing system. Jerry was in the torpedo room with Petrov when Thigpen’s summons echoed throughout the ship. Dodging between the torpedo stowage racks and then up a ladder, Jerry moved at flank speed, with Petrov close behind. By the time they reached control, Samant was already beside Thigpen at the command workstation.
“It looks like she got past us,” Thigpen stated grimly while handing his CO a message. “It’s from the Squadron Fifteen OPCENTER.”
Jerry took the piece of paper, glanced at it quickly, sighed, and read the message out loud. “Two large explosions reported by multiple civilian merchant ships in the vicinity of 22.11 north latitude, 114.20 east longitude at approximately sixteen hundred hotel time. No PLAN ships are listed as being in that area. Location of explosions is just north of Dangan Island in Dangan Shuido, which suggests Chakra was egressing from Hong Kong harbor area on an easterly course. Recommend you alter search area to the northeast in the direction of Ningbo-Zhoushan. PLAN has been notified of likely successful planting of nuclear-armed torpedo in Victoria Harbor and/or the Port of Shenzhen. North Carolina has been alerted.”
He passed the message to Petrov, mumbling his frustration under his breath: “Damn it!” Spinning about, Jerry looked at the quartermaster of the watch and growled, “Show me that location.”
“Yessir,” replied the petty officer hastily. It was rare for the CO to be so pissed off. The chart display shifted and centered on the location, just outside Hong Kong. “Here is the reported position, Skipper, just to the right of the shipping channel.” The young sailor pointed to the spot on the horizontal large-screen display.
Jerry nodded, and after a brief moment asked, “Where were we at sixteen hundred?” The quartermaster quickly entered in the time, and the pip marking North Dakota’s location shifted twenty nautical miles back along her track. By now Thigpen, Samant, and Petrov had gathered around the HLSD. A line of bearing extended from North Dakota ran right smack into the center of Dangan Island.
“No wonder we didn’t hear the explosions,” Jerry grumbled. “There’s a fricking island in the way!”
“Murphy is working overtime today,” lamented Thigpen.
“Murphy? Who is Murphy?” asked Petrov, confused.
Thigpen smiled, then explained. “Murphy, as in Murphy’s Laws. You know, if anything can go wrong, it will.”
“Ah, I understand,” Petrov responded. “The circumstances were not in our favor. So what do we do now? Head northeast in pursuit?”
“Why did Jain reveal his position by firing a weapon? What could he have been shooting at?” injected Samant. “The message made no mention of a ship being hit or sinking. Just two large explosions were observed.”
“Another submarine,” Jerry answered. “He got snapped up as he was exiting Dangan Shuido. A Chinese boat got lucky, found him, and fired first. Jain counterfired.”
“Exactly!” exclaimed Samant. “He was forced to react, and he did so in accordance with the tactical procedures that he was taught. I submit his evasion after the attack will follow along a similar line.”
“And that means he probably won’t be heading northeast, along the Chinese coast,” concluded Jerry. “He’ll head out to deeper water, give himself a little more maneuvering room.”
“But he won’t ignore his orders,” Samant cautioned. “Jain will bias his evasion route toward the next target. Given that, the likely set of courses are between here and here.” The Indian laid his hands down in a narrow pie wedge on the screen. The quartermaster made some adjustments on the screen, drawing two lines under Samant’s hands, and quickly read off the bearings.
“It’s between zero nine zero and one three zero, Skipper.”
Jerry took over the controls and laid down two lines of bearing from North Dakota’s position toward the wedge. “Since we aren’t hearing him now, he’s almost certainly not at flank speed. Assuming a speed of, say, fifteen knots—” Jerry looked up at Samant, who nodded his agreement. “—Chakra is probably somewhere around here. Assuming we haven’t totally messed things up.”
“That’s just thirty to forty miles behind us,” said Thigpen.
“Correct, Commander. And that means we still have a chance of catching him,” replied Samant; there was a tinge of regret in his voice.
“I’d like to note that we’re making the explicit assumption Chakra wasn’t hit in the encounter,” noted Petrov. “And while I agree it’s reasonable, someone should check and make sure it’s valid.”
Jerry looked at Petrov and nodded. “We can relay the request to Squadron Fifteen and they can ask the Chinese. It’s way inside their territorial waters and I have no desire to test their acoustic classification ability. From what I’ve seen, their preferred method is to classify by ordnance. In the meantime, we have some things that need to be done before we can go chasing after Chakra.
“Bernie, recall Napoleon and Bismarck. I want them in their tubes in thirty minutes. Next, get us to periscope depth. We need to relay our questions and report our movements to Squadron Fifteen. Then we go hunting.”
Captain Zhang almost ran down the main corridor at the Hong Kong Garrison headquarters, hurrying to answer the urgent summons he’d just received from his superior’s chief of staff. The day had started out on a chaotic note, and it had only gotten worse as it wore on. Besides coordinating the search for the Indian Akula, Zhang had been investigating the cause of the two large explosions reported by numerous ships in Dangan Shuido that afternoon. Moments earlier, he’d received the initial report from Huizhou, a Type 056 corvette assigned to the naval brigade at Hong Kong. Huizhou’s CO reported a large oil slick in the vicinity of the explosions, and that some debris had been recovered — debris that appeared to be of Chinese origin.
Then came the almost incomprehensible order from the South Sea Fleet headquarters in Zhanjiang to sortie the three minesweepers. When Zhang objected, saying the minesweepers would be of little use in searching for the Indian submarine, the agitated voice on the other end of the phone screamed, “Not the submarine, you fool! Sweep the harbor!” Before Zhang could even ask which one, the unidentified individual had slammed the receiver down. And now, Lieutenant General Tian wanted to see him immediately. If Zhang had any hair, it would’ve been on fire.
The chief of staff saw the captain coming and rushed to open the door to the garrison commander’s inner officer. Zhang nodded but said nothing. The door was shut almost before he’d passed through the jamb. He found Lieutenant General Tian seated at his desk, both hands cradling his head. At first, he seemed oblivious of the captain’s presence; Tian’s attention was focused on whatever he was reading. Then slowly the general raised his head, and Zhang saw his face — fear and dread were all over it. Zhang suddenly felt a chill.