“I’ve heard of those railguns. They’ve got them on the latest class of American destroyers.”
“Regardless, I suspect that it’s one of the fleet’s combatants masquerading as a rescue transport ship, probably to draw the enemy’s ships, especially its submarines, away from us. The railgun is a nice touch, if that’s what they’ve really used. It’s crippled enemy shipping and diverted the enemy. ”
“It all sounds good, sir, but they can’t protect us forever like this.”
“Neither can the Gwansun. And neither can we protect ourselves forever, even if I unloaded every weapon in our arsenal against the enemy. They’re too numerous, and they won’t cease until they’ve accomplished their mission.”
“I hate to say it, but if they get the Gwansun, they may think they’ve done what they needed to do. They may think that the Gwansun is us and then head home. They really don’t have evidence that there are two of our submarines out here.”
“Since you hate to say it, never say it again.”
Yoon wiggled to shift the location of the sting in his abdomen and to stretch stiffness from his back.
“Sorry, sir. It’s just that… you’re right. I won’t say it again, and I’ll make sure the guys don’t either.”
“That’s an order.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“We need to face facts, senior chief. The only way out of here is on our own power.”
“You know what you’re saying?”
“I’m saying that you need to strengthen the weld at the shaft, risk a ton of noise from the shaft and weld when I order us to attempt propulsion, and pray that nobody will hear us before we can slip away with at most three to four knots of speed.”
“You want me to add to the weld now?”
“Yes. Add pieces in a spiral pattern so that they’re lateral to the stress when the shaft is under the torque of propulsion.”
“I see what you mean, sir, but I’m out of welding material, unless I start cannibalizing systems.”
Yoon kept his eyes on his tactical screen and steered one of his torpedoes towards its target.
“Cannibalize which systems, for example?” he asked.
“I could use pipes from the refrigeration system.”
“Good idea, but no,” Yoon said. “We’d soon be choking on the toxins of our deceased shipmates’ carcasses. We need to keep the freezer operational. Not to mention food in the refrigerator in case we end up staying out here for weeks.”
“You’re right, sir. I also assume that if I use piping material, it should probably only be material from high-pressure systems.”
“I think you’re right.”
“I could use hydraulic lines from the trash disposal system. We can get by without it, especially with so few of us making trash.”
“Agreed, but that’s not a lot of metal.”
“No, sir, but it’s a start.”
Yoon analyzed the torpedoes and decided that they followed optimum courses for acquiring four targets. He let them do their jobs and reflected upon the construction of the Kim, certain that some system wouldn’t require usage before he could return home.
“How about stern plane hydraulics?” he asked. “This ship won’t reach speeds high enough to require stern planes.”
“I guess you’re right, sir. That should give me enough metal to at least give propulsion a try.”
“Even two knots would make a difference. Anything is better than nothing.”
“This is going to take a while, sir. I’ll need to isolate the hydraulic systems we just talked about and then drain them.”
“I know. I’ll double check your isolation plan to make sure you don’t kill yourself with hydraulic oil. I’m concerned about the noise, too, while you’re working.”
“I can cut through with my welding torch. That’s not as loud as hacking or scraping.”
“True. But make sure to cut the seaward side of the piping first so that the second cuts are sound-isolated from reaching the hull.”
“I will, sir.”
Yoon glanced at the lower half of his display, diverting his attention from his torpedoes to his own ship. The Kim appeared in the safety of isolation, the nearest enemy combatant steaming away from him at a range of sixteen nautical miles.
“God willing, it won’t matter. The only concern is the unknown of how many submarines are within hearing distance.”
“That’s where our fake rescue ship comes in, sir. Hopefully, all the hostile submarines are going in its direction.”
“Hopefully, but that’s a destiny we don’t control. What we do control is our last gasp chance at driving ourselves to safety. Start with cannibalizing the trash disposal system.”
As Nang departed, Yoon watched his torpedoes achieve their destinies. Though beyond the Kim’s sensor range, the first explosion became evident as the weapon fed its data back to him.
With airborne radar systems feeding targeting data to the Kim’s tactical system, Yoon gave his weapons easy targets. Within minutes of energizing their sensors, each seeker had heard the damning noises of its prey.
Each weapon had then accelerated to terminal homing speed, and then the first weapon returned a signal annotating that it sensed a ship’s keel above it, prior to its algorithms authorizing the final command of detonation.
Two more weapons followed suit, condemning cracked keels to the abyss.
As the final weapon strayed, Yoon frowned. But like playing a video game, he steered the weapon with rudder commands, and it circled back towards the fleeing target. Equipped with radar-quality information, he succeeded in bringing his adversary to his weapon.
His attack complete, he felt his adrenaline subside and his guilt rise. The simplicity had been unfair.
But four fewer anti-submarine surface combatants hunted him — four enemies that he knew would have shown him no mercy.
CHAPTER 15
Kye shut the bridge wing door behind him, shook off droplets, and peeled his parka hood behind his neck. He walked to his executive officer and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Yes, sir?”
“Secure the lookout watches. The rain is too heavy and visibility too poor for them to be of any use.”
The executive officer acknowledged the order, and Kye left a trail of puddles as he stepped to the navigation table. A lieutenant lowered his smart phone and looked up.
“The Internet connection remains strong, sir. I’m receiving satellite weather updates every five minutes.”
“Show me on the chart,” Kye said.
“Here, sir. This rainstorm will continue moving east by northeast. We’ll reach its southwestern tip in twenty minutes if we maintain course and speed.”
“The weather radar information from our enemy’s meteorological association is quite useful. They try to help their merchant fleets with accurate and frequent weather updates in these waters, but they inadvertently are helping us outsmart them.”
“Agreed, sir. But only to a point. This storm won’t provide enough coverage to bring us into waters controlled by the enemy.”
Kye eyed the chart and noticed a penciled cloud.
“You’ve drawn another storm there to the southeast that’s moving away from land. It can provide us cover to approach the enemy’s controlled sea.”
“But we’ll have to travel at least fifty nautical miles without rain coverage to get there, sir. We’ll be exposed to enemy sensors. We’ll have to guard our speed and maneuvering to avoid revealing our status as a warship.”
Kye appreciated that the lieutenant had spoken about possibilities to overcome dangers instead of voicing excuses to turn back. His men had learned about his expectations of courage.