The sharp crack and fizzle as the small detonation charge blew sounded ear shattering in the confined space of the torpedo room, but nowhere near as loud as it would have been had the C4 Block Demolition charge not been frozen solid and rendered inert and totally harmless.
“You did it,” Juan slapped Jack on the back.
“No, you did it. Good work,” Jack commended Juan.
Suddenly the deck moved beneath them.
“Did the others not make it?” Juan thought of Dave being blown up and water rushing through a gaping hole in the submarine.
“Relax,” Jack spoke quietly as he listened for the sound of gushing water. “We would have heard the blast. This thing is like a steel drum.”
“It’s the Barracuda. She’s submerging before making way for the tunnel,” Durand clarified.
“Once she hits the open water, the show’s over.” Jack slumped against a torpedo slung in a block and tackle, ready to be loaded and fired at an enemy that hadn’t existed for over 70 years.
There was a beat of resigned silence.
Then Durand’s eyes blazed with excitement and at the same time were met by a similar gleam from Jack eyes.
Juan looked from one man to the other and saw the eagerness on their faces.
Then it also came to Juan in a flash of inspiration.
All three men came to the same absurd and totally boneheaded idea at exactly the same time.
Chapter 63
The torpedo slid into the empty torpedo tube with little effort. The entire loading mechanism had been designed for quick reloads in cramped quarters with minimal manpower. German efficiency at its best.
Closing and locking the hatch, Durand wiped his hands on an oily cloth the previous torpedo crew had used many years ago. In different circumstances he might have felt almost nostalgic, but right now there wasn’t time for that.
“Do you know how to fire it?” Jack asked.
“Oh yeah. We studied these in training. The Germans built crap torpedoes but the Siemens torpedo fire control system they developed was real smart. A lot of modern day firing systems are based on these principles. They had what they called the TDC or Torpedo Data Computer to handle the gyro settings, torpedo spread and depth. All good stuff but half their torpedoes didn’t blow when they hit their target. Accurate but not very deadly.”
“Another lesson for those Nazi bastards to take back with them and make good,” Jack hissed.
“Is this one going to work?” asked Juan.
“We’ll soon find out. I just need to figure out the settings and get them dialed into the fire control system.”
“Shouldn’t we ask the captain first?” Juan suggested.
Jack responded, “Son, sometimes it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.”
Durand scanned the dials and gauges clustered around the torpedo tube.
“I think I’ve figured out what we need to do. Lucky we’re berthed bow toward the tunnel. Other way around and we’d be screwed. These boats don’t have torpedo tubes aft.”
Durand turned a valve to open the outer torpedo doors.
“Yeah, well ‘lucky’ isn’t a word that’s on the tip of my tongue today.” Sarcasm laced Jack’s response.
But Durand didn’t hear him, he was too busy turning dials and flipping switches on the fire control panel.
“How do you know where to fire it?” asked Jack.
“I’m guessing, but if we can get it running down that tunnel, it will either hit the sub or the walls. Either way, the shockwave should cripple her at best. At worst, she’ll be sunk.”
“Let’s do it.” Jack’s voice was firm and confident.
Durand slammed the heel of his palm on the fire control and with a hiss of compressed air the torpedo was blasted from the tube and into the water where its electric motors propelled it toward the tunnel.
“How long until it explodes?” asked Juan.
“You ask a lot of questions. You know that, right?” Jack patted the rotund man on the back of the head, like he was rubbing a Buddha for good fortune.
Chapter 64
“Captain, incoming Tomahawk. Bearing three-one-five degrees. Range two-zero-zero kilometers.”
“Verify and confirm that,” Captain Vasili Ketov snapped at the radar operator.
They’d been surfaced for the past hour trying to raise Novolazarevskaya. The Russian Antarctic base had yet to respond but given the weather conditions and the pitiful annual budget allocated to the base for equipment maintenance, he wasn’t surprised.
“Confirmed sir, it’s an American Tomahawk. It must have been launched from an American submarine. We’ve had no reports of U.S. Navy ships in the area.”
“Damn them! This is retaliation for shooting at their spy sub.” Ketov sighed. It did no good to berate Yuri. The poor radar operator was only the messenger. It was a shame he hadn’t spotted it earlier, though.
“It’s skimming the waves, Captain, coming in low and fast. That’s why it’s only now showing on the screen.” It was as if Yuri had read Ketov’s thoughts.
“Do we have time to launch a Triumf counter strike?” demanded the captain of the launch officer who was already busy plotting a firing solution on his computer.
“Yes sir, if we launch within the next 3 minutes.”
Ketov needed time to think. He didn’t have time. Should he risk exposing their secret to save the lives of his crew and his submarine?
The S-400 Triumf surface-to-air missile system itself wasn’t a secret. NATO had even given it a reporting name — SA-21 “Growler”. The advanced anti-aircraft missile system had been deployed in Syria and was a major arms export for its Russian manufacturer. Even the Chinese were lining up to buy them by the truckload.
The Americans feared the Triumf and for good reason. It was the deadliest air defense weapon ever devised.
What was a secret, however, was the fact that the Russian Yasen class submarines all carried a number of these missiles amidships in vertical launch cells, alongside their strategic arsenal of Sizzler and Strobile cruise missiles.
The Americans already knew too much about the superiority of the S-400 Triumf system and the stealth of the Yasen class submarines. The fact that Russia’s most dangerous submarine could also launch their most deadly anti-aircraft missiles from below the waves needed to remain top secret, according to the Admirals and Generals back in Moscow, safe in their luxurious offices with their cute blonde secretaries.
“Arm a Triumf and plot a solution to intercept the Tomahawk,” ordered the captain without further discussion. He was a long way from his Russian masters and on his submarine, he made the final decisions.
Chapter 65
“It should have hit something by now.” Durand hammered his fist on the side of the torpedo tube.
“Dud?” asked Jack.
“Maybe they all are,” Juan chipped in.
“Thanks for blowing that little ray of sunshine up our ass, Juan. Real helpful, captain positive.” Durand glared at him.