“Ahead thirty percent. Come to course zero-eight-five.”
The order woke everyone up. They carried out the order in silence, grateful to be leaving.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Patience Pays
“We’ve got a power plant.” Bumper tried to hold down his excitement. “And screws.”
Jim burst into the sonar room. “Where?”
“Directly ahead, about seven thousand yards. She’s coming about.”
“No shit. Prepare to fire at twenty-five hundred.”
“Six thousand and coming slow. She’s on a direct course now. We’re deeper, though.” The ship was silent except for Bumper’s voice. Several moments went by. “Five thousand.”
Jim stood. He was extremely cool as he plotted and imagined the course that his enemy was sailing. He had played his hunch correctly, and now the payoff was at hand. The game was patience.
“Three thousand.” came the distance again from Bumper.
“Flood tubes one and two.”
“Tubes flooded! Tubes flooded!” screamed the sonar operator.
“Fire!” yelled Andri. “Release countermeasures! Dive!”
The orders were executed immediately. The two deadly torpedoes launched, cans of gas spit from the belly of the ship, and Sasha pushed her into a crash dive. Within seconds, everyone was hanging on to something to keep from falling over. Everyone was praying that they would be successful in hiding under the cloud again.
“Torpedoes dead ahead!”
“What?” said Jim. We should have heard him flood his tubes. He couldn’t have known we were here, he thought.
“Torpedoes closing two thousand and have locked!”
“Fire tubes one and two,” ordered Jim. “Release countermeasures — dive, dive, dive!”
Much like the Saratov, the War Eagle ejected her fish and headed for the deep under the cover of gas.
With all the noise and countermeasures, one of the four torpedoes in the water locked on to the other and did both subs the service of eliminating each other. The Russian torpedo lost its lock and cruised through the bubbles in search of its victim. Unfortunately for the War Eagle, the torpedo was “smart.” That is, if it didn’t lock on to its target in an allotted amount of time, the small rudder would spin it around in a desperate attempt to find the enemy. It worked. Quickly it was on a course back and down after the War Eagle.
The US torpedo, equipped with better sonar, was not fooled by the countermeasures this time, and it remained locked on the Saratov until the end.
The War Eagle had gone into her descent when the first explosion from the colliding torpedoes shook the ship. Sonar signaled that the other had passed, and they waited for theirs to detonate. Jim kept her in the dive and considered pulling up when a gentle ping caressed his ship.
“Torpedo had reacquired” came from the sonar room.
“Release countermeasures Jim order, and he kept her going down.
Then they heard their torpedo slam into the Saratov.
The ship rocked and shuddered as Andri gave the orders to get her under control. The explosion had opened a section in the bow, and the automatic sensors had closed all bulkheads and pressurized each compartment.
“Full astern!” Andri screamed into the intercom.
Immediately the whole ship quaked, with the screw fighting the momentum.
“Blow all tanks! Blow all tanks!”
The torpedo had done considerable damage. The Saratov went vertical in reverse as she began to fight her way back up. It meant that great portions of the bow had been compromised. Whether it had breached his inner hull, he couldn’t tell, but he didn’t think it could withstand the pressure for long. Those up front were dead for sure.
He never wanted to test his theory on design this way, but as she began her ascent, it proved him right. Having a longer and thinner sub meant that after a devastating attack, the ship would stand a better chance at keeping enough ballast to pull her to the top.
Then there was another explosion, but it wasn’t on his ship.
“Should we blow tanks, sir?” Lincoln was waiting for Jim. He hadn’t given the order.
“No. Goddamn it! Planesman, level off now.”
The planesman pulled back on the yoke, and a great yawn groaned through the War Eagle, but she leveled.
“All stop.” He didn’t know why, but something didn’t happen when the explosion hit. What didn’t happen was the ship being knocked one way or the other.
“Damage?”
All ships operations reported normal.
“Bump. Where is that bastard?”
“He headed up. From the sound, he’s hurt pretty bad.”
It was the first good news Jim had heard since leaving the States. “You think the fight’s out of him?”
Bumper responded, “I don’t know, but it sounds like he has a real mess on his hands.”
Mikhail emerged from the bulkhead. “Follow him up and board him.”
“Could be going to fire another missile,” Lincoln thought out loud.
“Nonsense.” Mikhail snorted. “He’s finished, and he knows it. Go up and contact him. Get the crew off and sink the bastard.”
“Take her up nice and easy. Ahead slow, right rudder.”
The War Eagle began her climb. The steerage officer turned around. “Sir, rudder is nonfunctional.”
Then Jim knew what had happened. The torpedo had hit the fin and detonated. Most of the explosion had passed harmlessly over the narrow stern of the ship, but he was convinced his rudder was probably gone. “Take her to one hundred feet, Linc. Then put Froggy in the drink.” He referred to their frogman, who would assess the damage underwater. “Let’s not show ourselves — yet.”
It was a credit to his leadership that no one panicked. Nick could see that. They still were all very scared, though the Fathometer was unwinding. Soon they’d hit the top, and the ship would right itself.
Everyone hung on. There was little control in their ascent, and they all prayed just to make it up. Sasha read off the depth as she climbed, and the travel became faster as the pressure lessened. Then they surfaced, fell over, and settled into a sever list on the port side, bow down.
A collective sigh went throughout the sub.
“Secure all stations,” Andri barked. “Keep up emergency pumping until I understand the extent of our damage. Sonar? Sonar report.”
There was no response. The bulkheads were sealed, and there was no way for the people in the bow to move back. The computer wouldn’t let them since it read so much damage in the forward part of the ship. Their only hope, if they were alive, were two escape hatches in the nose.
Andri went into action. “Engine room all stop. We’ll assess the damage from the exterior.” He went into the mast of the sail and proceeded to the top. Sasha left his seat and followed.
Nick felt that if he and Marina were to get off the ship it had to be now. He knew the War Eagle was in the area, and he had to take the gamble on them getting away and getting picked up. It was obvious that the Saratov was going to be in trouble for some time, and it wasn’t going to be a good idea to be on her if they were going to be attacked again. He went to the escape pod to get Marina.
Kyle always fancied himself a good gambler. Mostly because he had the uncanny ability to know when a long shot was going to pay off. This was one of those times.