Brodie nodded approvingly. “I never worked with Berryman, but I’ve heard he’s top shelf all around.” Any praise from Brodie meant something, and it was comforting to all in the wardroom to know the USS Virginia was already on station.
“Jim and I were on the USS Ohio together,” Ski interjected. “He’s as solid as they come.”
Brodie seemed satisfied. “Not far behind the Virginia is the HMS Audacious, and we all remember Commander Gardener. I can assure all of you, no one will handle a boat better than Alec Gardener.” He then concluded, “So, perhaps by the time we get there all that will be left for us to do is maybe take a few photographs, shake a few hands, and pick up the smoking remains of the Iranian Navy.”
“Have we received any change to our rules of engagement, Captain?” Ryan Walcott asked. “I mean if we run into an Iranian sub…”
“We’re currently not at war, but that could change at any moment. Also, the waterways where we will be operating are considered territorial waters by the Iranians whereas we maintain those waters are open to international traffic. Meaning, the Iranians may feel justified firing at us when and if we enter the Strait. Plus, we really don’t know what the Russians have sold the Iranians. It’s possible we may run into a couple of Akulas in the Strait, and it shouldn’t surprise us if we learn they’re now flying Iranian flags,” Brodie told them with eyes now cold as ice. “Therefore, if anyone makes an aggressive move toward us, I’m gonna blow their ass out of the water.”
“How long before we’re in a position to support the Virginia, Ryan?” Graves asked.
Walcott looked back down the table and thought for a moment. “It’s at least two thousand miles, XO,” he said. “At twenty knots, we’ll be there in about four days, less if we step on the gas.”
Graves turned to Brodie, offering his opinion. “I recommend we go in quietly, Captain. There’s no point in letting everyone know we’re coming. Besides the Borei and those Akulas, the Gagarin might be lurking about, and we sure don’t want to announce our arrival.”
“I understand your concern,” Brodie replied thoughtfully. “But if something goes wrong and the Virginia and the Audacious need to start shooting, I’d hate to arrive too late to help cover their backs.” He looked down the table at Ryan. “Calculate a speed run at thirty knots. That should put us in position in less than three days.”
“What about our heavy surface forces, Captain?” Martin asked nervously, clearly understanding the gravity of the situation and not liking the odds.
“The George Washington and her escorts are in the Singapore Straits and are three weeks away at their current speed. The Nimitz is slipping her moorings in Sasebo as we speak and is a month away at least.”
“So, we’re on our own, sir,” Martin concluded nervously.
Kristen looked up the table at Brodie, who was again seated in his usual chair. She saw a slight, almost cocky smile cross his face, and his eyes sparkled with excitement. There was nothing anyone on board could do to get the carrier battle groups with their massive air wings in position any faster. They would have to do what they could on their own until help arrived.
“Not to worry, Mister Martin,” Brodie offered as he stood, concluding the brief. “Just think how much easier it’ll be to discriminate between friend or foe when you’re the only good guy in the gunfight.”
Chapter Seventeen
Commander Jim Berryman sat at his small desk on the periscope platform, his eyes never far away from the tactical display. The Iranian Kilo class submarine they’d been following for the better part of six hours had slowly moved closer to the Persian Gulf. Berryman was well aware that the Iranians had seeded thousands of new sea mines across the Strait of Hormuz, but was also aware that there had to be a path through the minefield allowing surface ships to transit the Strait safely.
The possibility the Kilo would lead them through this safe passage was very real and one his orders wanted him to pursue. Of course, he wasn’t to hazard his boat to do so. The State Department was working around the clock to resolve the current conflict between Iran and Oman peacefully, and Berryman had no desire to start a shooting war. However, his natural aggressiveness pushed him to press the advantage he had as commander of the most advanced submarine in the world.
The Virginia was the lead boat of the newest fast-attack submarines in the American arsenal and he was quite proud of her. They were currently in just three hundred feet of water, but the Virginia had been designed specifically for this environment. Much smaller than the Seawolf class and just slightly larger than the aging Los Angeles boats that had helped win the Cold War, the Virginia represented the future in submarine design. Unlike the aging Kilo they were shadowing. No match for the Virginia, the Kilo was slow and noisy. Berryman had run a few practice attacks on the unsuspecting Iranian submarine as he’d slowly shadowed it back toward Iranian waters. The fact the Kilo was even out of the Persian Gulf was unusual since they were clearly outclassed by anything they might run into beyond the Gulf, but one of Berryman’s missions was to gather intelligence on Iranian naval operations and following the Kilo fit the bill.
Above his head, he heard the voice of his sonar chief come from the speaker mounted on the overhead, “Con, sonar. Kilo Three aspect change. New course zero-four-five, speed eight knots, range one thousand yards.”
Berryman acknowledged the message and then ordered a slight course change to stay in the Kilo’s baffles. Once they completed the turn, he resumed watching the tactical display indicating the position, course, and speed of every surface and sub-surface contact the Virginia was monitoring. There were currently multiple contacts. Most of the sub surface contacts were biologicals with the exception of the Kilo. However, he was wise enough not to assume the only potential threat to his boat was the Kilo. Plus, besides possible threats, somewhere nearby, the HMS Audacious was prowling these same seas. Standard NATO submarine tactics precluded hunter-killer submarines operating as a team, so he didn’t know where the Brit might be. To the north, he was acutely aware that the Islamic Republic was still dropping mines. Intelligence placed the southern boundary of the field about five miles away, and he wasn’t interested in getting any closer considering that such reports were not always accurate. Plus there was the very real possibility that the Iranians had expanded the field.
“Con, sonar,” came the sonar chief’s voice a few moments later, “Sierra three is turning sharply back to the south and coming shallow.”
Berryman ordered the Virginia to reduce speed as he let the Kilo complete her turn. He then considered the tactical display. The waters around them were shallow and growing more so. Following a slight adjustment in depth to keep them well clear of the sea floor, he resumed his previous position in front of the tactical display. Once the Kilo settled on her new course, Berryman prepared to order his own course change to fall back in behind the Kilo.