Buglione focused on the submarine Kazan had fired at. It remained steady on course and speed, giving no indication it had detected the incoming torpedo. Sonar reported the torpedo had acquired its target and was homing — increasing speed and the frequency of its pings — calculating a more accurate intercept solution. But the target Russian submarine still did not evade.
He considered the unusual situation. Maybe the target was an older submarine with an antiquated sonar suite, and the crew hadn’t detected the incoming torpedo.
“Conn, Sonar. Mechanical transient from Sierra two-two. Consistent with weapon impact.”
Buglione scratched his head. What the hell… Not only did the Russian submarine not evade, but the exercise torpedo hadn’t turned away once it had closed to a range which would guarantee a hit. American and Russian exercise torpedoes had safety features built in so they didn’t smash into their targets. No need to waste a three-million-dollar weapon each time — they floated to the surface after each run and were then refurbished.
Even more important, the safety features existed to prevent the torpedo from damaging the target submarine. While a broadside hit wasn’t a concern, a torpedo closing from astern could get sucked into the screw or propulsor, causing tens of millions of dollars in damage to the precision-machined blades, requiring a complete screw or propulsor replacement.
The Executive Officer announced, “Possible target zig, Master one and Sierra two-two due to change in bearing rate.”
A moment later, he confirmed the zigs, reporting that both contacts had turned to the south, toward Kola Bay. It looked like they were headed home. Another surprise, calling it a day after a single torpedo firing.
Buglione maneuvered Pittsburgh into Kazan’s baffles again, then returned to his chair on the Conn. He tried to make sense of today’s bizarre exercise. Only one torpedo had been fired, the target submarine hadn’t evaded, and the torpedo had smashed into the target. Zero-for-three when it came to typical TORPEXs.
And where in the hell did that second submarine come from? The intelligence summary received this morning listed no other Russian submarines in the Barents Sea or making preparations to get underway.
Buglione called out to the open microphone in the overhead. “Sonar, Conn. Have you classified Sierra two-two?”
“Conn, Sonar. Negative. It doesn’t match anything in the database. If we had to make a call, we’d say it’s a Yasen class, but it’s got several tonals never observed from either Severodvinsk or Kazan.”
Buglione acknowledged Sonar, then his thoughts returned to the unusual Russian exercise. He had questions, but no answers. Maybe the analysts back home would figure things out, poring over the data once Pittsburgh transmitted its message with the TORPEX details.
CHAPTER 3
WASHINGTON, D.C.
In the backseat of a black sedan speeding down South Capitol Street, National Security Advisor Christine O’Connor sat beside the president’s senior military aide, Marine Corps Colonel Bill DuBose. As their car crossed over the Anacostia River, headed toward Maryland, she opened a folder on her lap and reviewed the outline for today’s meeting. The topic was one she wasn’t looking forward to.
Russia.
America’s war with Russia had been short but intense, and the casualties hadn’t been limited to the soldiers and sailors involved in the conflict. Christine had done her part, a pawn in the effort to checkmate the Russian president, and had paid a price. Since her return to the White House, she hadn’t spoken about what happened to her in Russia; how she’d been handcuffed to a pipe above her head and tormented by the director of Russia’s Foreign Intelligence Service. Christine had provided the details to her CIA debriefers and she was sure the president and his chief of staff had read the report. But thankfully, neither man had brought the topic up.
The cuts around her wrists where the handcuffs had dug into her flesh were hidden by her business suit and blouse sleeves, but the thin slice across her cheek remained faintly visible beneath her makeup. Although no one seemed to notice the scar, she saw it each time she looked in the mirror.
Christine studied the document on her lap, trying to focus on the upcoming meeting. Although the president’s intelligence briefings, which included an update from Christine, were short, it took extensive preparation to generate the condensed nuggets of information presented to the president. Each week, Christine met with representatives from one of America’s sixteen intelligence agencies. She’d asked Colonel DuBose to accompany her today, since today’s meeting would have a military flair — Navy to be exact — as they would be briefed by members of the Office of Naval Intelligence.
Tasked with maintaining a decisive information advantage over America’s adversaries, ONI focused on naval weapons and technology. The read-ahead on Christine’s lap contained the agenda for today’s meeting: an update on the Russian Navy and especially its submarine fleet, which remained a potent threat despite America’s recent victory. Of particular interest was K-561 Kazan, Russia’s newest and most advanced nuclear-powered attack submarine, which had been withheld from the intense battle for some reason.
The sedan pulled to a halt at a guarded gate just off Suitland Parkway, and after security credentials were reviewed, it was waved into the forty-two-acre compound housing the National Maritime Intelligence Center. After the sedan stopped in front of the four-story building, Christine slipped the folder into her leather briefcase and stepped from the car, joined by Colonel DuBose. Waiting inside the lobby was Carmen Aguirre, a senior supervisor in the three-thousand-member organization.
“Good morning, Christine,” Carmen said as they shook hands. “It’s good to see you again.” Her eyes went to the Marine beside Christine.
“Colonel Bill DuBose,” Christine said, “the president’s new senior military aide.”
Carmen escorted Christine and DuBose to a third-floor conference room occupied by eight men and women. Carmen made the introductions, informing Christine that today’s brief would be led by Dave Harrelson and Eric Mason, with the supporting cast present in case additional details were required.
As Christine took her seat at the head of the table with DuBose beside her, Carmen explained, “Dave Harrelson is our senior expert on Russian torpedoes. Eric Mason oversees Russian submarine technology.”
Harrelson was the first to brief, handing classified presentations to Christine and DuBose. “Last week,” Harrelson began, “one of our submarines in the Barents Sea was fortunate enough to witness a Russian torpedo exercise. After reviewing the data, it became clear this wasn’t a normal training exercise. We believe the Russians are testing a new torpedo.”
“Why do you think that?” Christine asked.
“Two reasons. The first is that the target submarine didn’t evade, which means its sole purpose was to serve as a target, and the second is that the Russians employed set-to-hit shots, which means they let the torpedo smash into the target instead of activating the usual safety features. American and Russian exercise torpedoes usually employ a turn-away feature or run the torpedo at a different depth from the target to prevent damage to the torpedo and submarine.
“On occasion, we employ set-to-hit shots to verify the final homing and detonation phases, but only when we’re testing new torpedoes or significant upgrades to our current inventory. Set-to-hit torpedoes have dummy, instrumented warheads so we can verify the exploder mechanism sends the fire signal, with the data sent back to the submarine over the torpedo’s guidance wire.”