Captain Second Rank Matvey Baczewski, seated in the Captain’s chair in the Central Command Post, listened intently to Hydroacoustic’s report. As the announcement faded from the speakers, his Watch Officer, Captain Lieutenant Dolinski, responded as he was trained.
“Steersman. Left full rudder, steady course two-seven-five.”
They had detected an underwater transmission almost dead ahead. The range was unknown, but underwater communications did not travel far. It was prudent to turn away and give fire control an opportunity to determine how close they were.
“Hydroacoustic, Command Post. Send bearings manually to fire control,” Dolinski ordered. As Vepr turned to port, Dolinski followed up. “What language is the underwater communication in?”
“English.”
Baczewski stood and joined his First Officer, Captain Third Rank Petr Lukov, at the navigation table. They were four kilometers from the American ice camp.
“Command Post, Hydroacoustic. Detect a second transmission of underwater communications, bearing zero-one-eight, designated Hydroacoustic two-five.”
Dolinski acknowledged the report, then Baczewski called out, “Hydroacoustic, Captain. Put the communications on speaker.”
The Hydroacoustic Party Leader complied, and the warbly sound of underwater communications filled the Central Command Post air. Although Baczewski didn’t understand English, his First Officer did, and Petr Lukov listened carefully to the transmission, then informed the submarine’s captain of its content.
There was a second American submarine under the ice — a guided missile submarine carrying Navy SEALs. They had inspected North Dakota, reporting that the submarine’s propulsion was severely damaged and would require drydock repairs.
So far, everything was correlating with the intelligence Baczewski had been provided. He checked his submarine’s speed and depth. Vepr had slowed to five knots as they approached the American ice camp, and was at 150 meters, well below the ice keels. He had secured their under-ice sonar, and the only emissions they were making were an occasional ping from their secure bottomsounder.
No one would detect Vepr’s approach.
53
“Central Command Post, Hydroacoustic. Hold a new submerged contact on the towed array, designated Hydroacoustic four-seven, bearing three-three-zero. Classified Shchuka-B nuclear attack submarine.”
The Hydroacoustic Party Leader followed up a moment later, “Command Post, Hydroacoustic. Contact tonals match K-157 Vepr.”
Captain Buffanov stood at the back of the Central Command Post, appreciating the advanced tactical systems of his Yasen class submarine. The sonar on older submarines would not have detected the quiet third flight Shchuka-B submarine to the northwest.
While traveling under the ice, Buffanov had received a third Commanding Officer Only message, informing him of Vepr’s presence and assigning the waterspace around the American ice camp to Vepr. Severodvinsk would remain at the boundary until the prescribed time. He checked his submarine’s speed and position; they had slowed to five knots and were less than a kilometer from Vepr’s water.
According to the last satellite image received, there was a surface ridge a few hundred meters ahead. Where there was a surface ridge, there would also be an ice keel, although without his under-ice sonar running, he would not know how deep it went. That wasn’t critical, however. It was almost assuredly deep enough to hide behind.
Buffanov addressed his Watch Officer. “Prepare to ice pick.”
Captain Lieutenant Ronin initiated the process. “Steersman, all stop.” As Severodvinsk coasted to a halt, he gave the next order. “Topsounder, determine distance to ice canopy.”
The Michman energized the topsounder, sending a single ping from the conning tower hydrophone toward the ice. He reported, “Distance to ice is one hundred twenty meters.”
Ronin followed up. “Compensation Officer, engage Hovering. Set depth to thirty meters.”
Severodvinsk rose toward the ice, settling out at a depth of thirty meters.
He turned to his commanding officer. “Captain, we are ready to ice pick.”
“Very well,” Buffanov replied. “Set Hovering to twenty meters. Limit vertical velocity to five meters per minute.”
Ronin relayed the order and Severodvinsk rose slowly upward, impacting the ice with a dull thud two minutes later. He checked the status of the equipment in the conning tower; as expected, there was no damage.
Severodvinsk’s floating wire drooped and they lost sync with the radio broadcast. “Communication Post, Captain. Shift to the conning tower VLF antenna.”
Radio acknowledged, and moment later reported, “Command Post, Communications. In sync with the VLF broadcast.”
Buffanov settled into his chair in the Command Post. Severodvinsk was resting against the polar ice cap, just outside Vepr’s waterspace, in continuous communications.
The only thing left to do now was wait.
54
“Your orders, sir?”
Vepr’s Watch Officer, Captain Lieutenant Dolinski, stood behind the fire control consoles, waiting for the expected order from Captain Baczewski. The tactical situation could not have been more ideal. Both American submarines were motionless, hovering beneath the ice cap, and would be easy prey for a salvo of torpedoes.
While Vepr loitered outside the Marginal Ice Zone, Baczewski had drilled his officers on the capabilities of their potential adversaries, but after receiving the second Commanding Officer Only message, he had concentrated on only one class of submarine. Their target was the SSGN, the less capable of the two submarines.
During the conversion of the first four Ohio class submarines into SSGNs, the United States had modernized their tactical systems. From a weaponry standpoint, the guided missile submarines were as capable as other American submarines, carrying MK 48 Mod 7 torpedoes and the new BYG-1 combat control system. Their sonar systems had been upgraded as well, but only the hardware and software inside the ship. The legacy components outside the submarine, particularly the bow array hydrophones, had not been upgraded. With her towed array either stowed or useless due to the vertical droop, the guided missile submarine’s ability to detect Vepr was impaired.
Dolinski waited for the order from his Captain. However, Baczewski spoke to the Electric Navigation Party Leader instead. “Display the latest satellite map.”
An image of the polar ice cap, with latitude and longitude lines overlaid, appeared on the screen beside the navigation table. Baczewski studied the map, identifying the feature he desired. He would not need to find thin ice. There was an open lead of water three kilometers to the northwest.
He gave the order to Dolinski, but not the one his Watch Officer expected. “Come to course three-one-zero. Prepare to surface.”
55
Inside the crowded command hut, Christine stood between Verbeck and Brackman, listening to the underwater communications between Vice Admiral Dahlenburg and the American submarines. As the communications drew to a close, Dahlenburg directed Michigan to remain on station and monitor the WQC. If the attempt to rescue Dolgoruky’s crew from topside was unsuccessful, Michigan would be called into service.