“It has fewer Vympel systems to knock down our incoming rounds. In fact, if I believe the intelligence, it has zero Vympels.”
“I like when you think like a surface warrior. The starboard cannon is ready.”
“Fire twenty splintering rounds.”
The railgun’s clap reverberated throughout the room.
“Have you ever seen a close-in weapon system take down a railgun round? I know of nothing that’s been designed for targets so small and so fast.”
“You weren’t with us yet when we last used railguns against modern targets. A Chinese task force in the Spratlys had good luck jamming the terminal guidance and avoiding the rounds. They used their close-in weapon systems towards the end of the battle, but things were so hectic that our boys didn’t have a chance to gather any data. So the Vympels will be the first measurable test.”
“Unless the ship doesn’t have one, like the Kashin.”
“It’s old, but it packs a wallop. I’d like to remove it from the equation if this becomes an old fashioned gunfight.”
“I hope Pierre is watching and attentive on the targeting.”
“Let’s see if we can get through,” Cahill said. “Send him a note that I want to target the Kashin’s engine room.”
“The radio operator is attempting to transmit,” Walker said. “No confirmation of receipt from the satellite yet. The Russians are still jamming us.”
Cahill watched his first rounds shift direction a degree.
“That correction proves that he knows to hit the engine room of whatever we shoot at. Cease transmitting.”
“The Kashin is taking evasive maneuvers,” Walker said. “It’s coming hard left.”
The icon of the Russian destroyer blinked and then shifted from opaque to a hollow dotted outline.
“We’ve lost the Kashin on radar,” Walker said. “The Russians are concentrating their jamming to protect it.”
“Look on the satellite infrared.”
Cahill watched Walker toggle his screen’s pages and then back out to a larger field of view. White plumes billowed from the warship’s four gas turbines.”
“There it is,” Walker said. “And here come our rounds.”
“Pierre can use the infrared to guide our rounds.”
“Here it comes,” Walker said.
Cahill watched the first ballistic strip of bright blue splinter into smaller streaks. The hailstorm of buckshot sliced through the destroyer’s hull but missed the sensitive propulsion equipment.
“Damn,” Walker said. “A wasted round.”
The next round missed wide as the warship shifted its rudder hard right and whipped its stern clear.
“Give Pierre a few rounds to adjust.”
The next four rounds missed wide, and the following four rounds cut benign holes in the side of the destroyer’s engine room.
“Do you want to send more rounds into the Kashin? You didn’t even use the port cannon.”
“I’m reserving rounds in the port cannon for defense, should we need to use our maximum rate of fire. And let’s first see what Pierre can do with this salvo.”
Blue buckshot landed between a pair of gas turbines, but the engines continued to burn in bright white.
“Close, but no effect,” Walker said.
“Give it time. He’s adjusting his satellite targeting.”
The next round sent two shards of buckshot through a gas turbine. Whiteness receded to a pale blue as the machine rolled to a stop and its hot metal began to cool.
“There’s your hit, Liam!”
“One engine down, three to go.”
The next two rounds pounded the engine room but missed the vital machines.
“Damn it,” Walker said.
A round of buckshot hit dead center on the damaged turbine’s twin attached to the same shaft.
“That’s better,” Cahill said. “No chance of even dreaming about repairing that one.”
The final rounds walked across the ship towards the other engines but missed.
“We need to get more rounds ready,” Walker said. “It still has a fully functional shaft.”
“Hold on, mate. Look closer.”
“Good lord. I don’t believe it.”
“There’s no way Pierre can say he did that on purpose, and if he does, I’ll refuse to believe him. But I’ll take being lucky.”
Though undamaged, the final two turbines spun towards a stop. The gearbox that connected them glowed with a half dozen puncture wounds and the heat of grinding, mangled metal.
“Let’s move on to the next target,” Cahill said. “The Kashin is out of our way.”
CHAPTER 14
Volkov shouted at his executive officer, who stared back with the smugness of knowing his political connections protected him from the repercussions of insubordination.
“I won’t say it a third time. Get your ass back there before I confine you to your stateroom for cowardice!”
Volkov knew that he could motivate the lowest creature on his ship through shame.
“Am I clear?” he asked.
The man’s face shifted, as if a spark had ignited the recognition of his need for self-respect.
“Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it.”
The executive officer headed aft to the watertight door. After the metal plate returned to its latches, Volkov let half a minute elapse and then gestured to his third-in-command, his operations officer.
“Get back there and help him out.”
“Help out the executive officer, sir? Or did you mean the engineer, since he’s leading the team in the auxiliary machinery compartment.”
“I mean relieve the engineer as the executive officer’s assistant. I want the engineer to get back to working on propulsion.”
The operations officer turned, but Volkov called him back, leaned into him, and spoke into his ear.
“What I really mean is, relieve the engineer and keep an eye on the executive officer. Stall him and contact me if you see him screwing anything up.”
As the officer departed, Volkov slid behind the backs of his seated control room team and reached his gray-bearded sailor. The veteran looked at him with tight crow’s feet.
“Do you want the good news first, sir, or the bad news?”
“Bad. Always the bad news first.”
“The battery is useless. Too many cells are damaged to use the remaining cells. They add up in series, and there’s not enough voltage in the remaining cells, even if we could manage to connect the good cells together around the bad ones.”
“I anticipated that. It’s bad, but it’s not really news.”
“The good news is that your battery cells aren’t going to blow up. The battery is disconnected from the electrical bus, and the damaged cells are completely immersed in water. So there’s no hydrogen gas accumulating. The engineer has checked it.”
“I guess that’s good news.”
“Given the situation, it’s the best news you’ll get.”
The ship dipped in the swells, and Volkov grabbed a railing on the veteran’s console for support. Above, he heard the head valve clank shut, silencing his diesels until the induction mast returned above the water to let the engines breathe.
“I see that our diesels are handling the load at five knots,” he said. “That’s easy. But do you have a calculation yet of our maximum attainable speed?”
“I have the numbers, but the engineer still needs to route the fuel cell and diesel outputs together with the battery disconnected.”
“Tell me what you have.”
“The engineer says he can give you twelve knots with the diesels and the fuel cell system while bypassing the battery. It’s up to you if you want to put that much flow stress on the induction mast.”