Russell had decided to sit in on some of the interviews Hobbs was conducting with various crew members. He took the decision because all too well he knew how clannish the submariners could get. They weren't used to women forming part of the crew and many were sceptical about the effectiveness of women in such a high stress situation as nuclear submarines allowed. The interviews had been going on for the better part of the afternoon, mostly with ordinary seamen.
"Who's next, captain?"
Russell consulted his charts. "Sub lieutenant Dan Vinson. The men call him Ice Cold."
"Ice Cold?"
Russell grinned. "You'll see why."
The man who entered looked like he was straight out of a military school like Westpoint. There was a sharpness and crisp attitude about him, and the salute to his captain was faultless. Pristine.
He answered the questions put to him with a military ease, never amplifying anything. Hobbs could see why they called him Ice Cold, but her gut was telling her this wasn't her man.
"You're dismissed," she said.
"Ma'am," he acknowledged, with a crisp salute, before turning sharply and leaving the wardroom.
CHAPTER 7
Nothing got by Hone when he was on watch at his sonar listening post. A thin, studious individual with incredible hearing he had come out of sub school with a penchant for sonar work. He had a cool, calm and detached air when delivering reports as was the case now. He could tell from listening that she was noisier than the Russian Delta 111 Class, and he remembered its designation listing as a 094. Hone was the kind of guy who could remember the signature tracking systems of dozens of vessels, much as another man might remember chess moves or the cards remaining in a deck.
"Broadband contact, Sir."
"What type?"
"Jin class, COB."
The COB turned to Russell. "Captain, we have a Chinese nuclear sub bearing zero nine zero."
"Action stations," Russell announced on the 1and 7MC. Russell turned to sonar. "Start a track."
"Starting a signature track, captain," Hone confirmed.
The captain nodded. All too well, he knew the danger that could be posed by other subs, even diesel powered ones with API technology. Only last year he had taken part in Pacific war games, attempting without much success to track and eliminate the threat posed by a deadly Swedish sub which was playing havoc with a carrier task force on the surface. Their Gotland class, which the Swedes had loaned to the Americans, was a deadly little hunter killer that was extremely hard to detect in the water, and which really could be rigged for ultra quiet. The little sub manned by a lean crew of 24 Swedish sailors had run rings around the Americans.
So, Russell knew enough not to take foolish chances. As he pondered on what action to take with the Chinese contact, a thought struck him and he remarked to Hone. "Thought that class was decommissioned. I remember seeing something about it in Proceedings?"
"It's definitely a Jin Class, sir. I'd know it's signature track from a mile away."
Hone's confirmation convinced Russell. If his sonarman said it was a Jin Class, then a Jin Class it was. Russell knew his men's capabilities very well.
He thought about what he knew of the Class. It was a second generation SSBN of the Chinese navy, a nuclear powered ballistic missile submarine. He recalled a NATO report that said it carried three nuclear tipped missiles; so it wasn't a boat to be trifled with. His XO arrived on the run and Russell acknowledged his presence. "Thanks for joining us, Mister Pirman."
"What's up, captain?"
"We have a submerged contact, Steve. Bearing zero nine zero. Sonar reports it as a Chinese Jin Class."
Suddenly they all froze as a noise echoed throughout the vessel. Russell whirled on Pirman. "XO, check out what that noise was?"
"She's heard us, captain," Hone announced calmly. "She's turning towards."
Russell grunted a curse and reached for the 1MC. "Man battle stations, torpedo," he ordered, his voice as calm as that of his sonarman.
Hone sounded startled for the first time. "Sir, they've opened their outer doors and flooded their tubes."
Russell whirled. "WHAT?"
"Torpedo in the water," Hone announced, his voice calm again. "Second torpedo in the water."
"Left, full rudder," Russell ordered. "Launch full countermeasures. Chief of the Boat, bring us deep."
"Pilots, bring us deep," Cobb ordered, sounding tense. "Twenty five degree down."
"Three hundred yards and closing," Hone said. The submarine was going deep, and men were holding on to whatever they could to maintain their balance. Pirman had returned to the control room and told Russell he'd fill him in later about the noise. The captain nodded, his mind busy on evasion tactics.
"Two hundred yards." Hone was adding to the suspense.
"Rig ship for impact," Russell ordered. The XO repeated the order. The men shared tense looks.
"One hundred yards." Hone's voice was matter of fact.
"Sound collision alarm," Russell ordered. The sound rippled through the submarine.
"Fifty yards, and closing fast."
The sound of an explosion rocked them and lights flickered on and off.
"First torpedo hit the countermeasures," Hone explained. "Second, closing fast. It's going to hit."
They all heard a dull thud against the steel hull of the ship. "A dud," Hone said. "A dud," he repeated, in a louder tone.
A ragged cheer went up.
Russell ignored the din. "Weapons have you a solution on our target?"
"Solution plotted, captain."
"Fire when ready."
"Torpedo away, captain."
"Second away… third away."
"Range and speed of our weapons," Russell ordered, checking a stopwatch in his hand. "Have our weapons locked?"
"Acquiring, captain."
"First had locked. Second, locked. Third, locked."
"Arm," Russell ordered.
"Armed, sir."
Explosions rippled through the water and another ragged cheer went up amongst the Obama crew.
Russell didn't join in the celebrations but instead curtly ordered his officers to his wardroom for an urgent debrief.
It was the equivalent of a post mortem and it took place in the captain's wardroom. Russell looked around at his assembled officers and addressed them.
"So gentlemen, have any of you any ideas on why the Chinese suddenly went hostile on us?"
"A rogue sub?" Pirman suggested.
Russell shook his head. "I can't buy into that, Steve."
"Maybe it wasn't the Chinese," Cobb put in.
"How do you mean, chief?"
"We'll, maybe the XO is partially right. We might have a rogue nation that bought a Jin Class from the Chinese and was using it for their own agenda, as yet unknown. According to Intel' reports, there has been no military activity on mainland China to support their sub's actions. Makes no sense, unless you consider the possibility that the Chinese weren't to blame."
Russell remained silent, thinking. Cobb had articulated a viewpoint that made some sense and the more that he thought about it, the more he became convinced his chief had hit the nail on the head. It made perfect sense. A rogue nation, with the Chinese set up as patsies. But, who?
Sudden realisation hit them all simultaneously, but it was Pirman who put it into words. "It must have been the Koreans?"
That would make perfect sense, Russell thought, but it also made for uneasy conjecture. Did the Koreans have prior knowledge of their mission and if so how? Had there been a security breach in some way? And the big question, had the Koreans mastered some new technology that could find the Obama and other Virginia subs out there? If they had, it undermined America's whole strategy in relation to their nuclear powered submarines and deterrence, and Russell bit his lip in anxiety as he pondered on that last uneasy thought. He'd have to notify SUBPAC. So much for radio silence.