Kristen couldn’t worry about him and turned back to her console, trying to ignore the blood-stained stack next to her.
“Detonation!” Goodman shouted loud enough to be heard through the bulkhead as another MK-48 struck home.
Kristen heard the second detonation signaling the second Kilo had been hit. She knew it was unlikely that either submarine would survive a direct hit from a MK-48, and she turned her entire attention to the Akula. It was still the greatest threat, and they needed to find it before it reacquired the Seawolf. “The port side array is down,” she reported receiving nothing from one of the side aperture sonar receivers.
“I’ve already got techs on it,” Fabrini assured her, letting her know he was aware of it. “Where’s that Akula?”
“I’m looking for it, but the water is filled with transients from the two Kilos struggling to reach the surface,” she informed him.
“The frigate’s going down,” Hicks reported.
She knew she should be scared. The Seawolf could very well be sinking. But instead, she felt only a burning desire to find the Akula. They rebooted several systems in the sonar shack, and as they came on line she picked up their remaining MK 48 torpedo now about nine thousand yards away. Kristen realized immediately the torpedo had lost the Akula and was running a search pattern. “I’ve lost Akula Nine. Mk 48 torpedo bearing is three-four-five, bearing is changing. Torpedo has gone active and is searching for a target.”
The Seawolf slowed and turned away from the two Kilo submarines. The transients coming from the two boats were disturbing. Kristen, who picked up some of it, could hear the straining submarines struggling to reach the surface. But as she heard the metallic noises and rushing water, she also heard what sounded like metal pounding on metal and the unmistakable sound of men shouting.
“Both Kilos are hit,” Goodman reported grimly, “and are attempting to blow tanks,”
“Stay on the Akula,” Miller ordered with little more than a gasp. “She may fire another torpedo.” The strain in his voice was unmistakable.
Kristen turned her head toward Miller and saw him leaning heavily against the back of one of the sonar operator’s chairs. He looked terrible, with sweat pouring off his face. “Senior Chief?” she asked with concern.
“I’m okay.” He was struggling just to breathe.
Kristen wanted to order him to report to sickbay, but she knew he wouldn’t go — no one in his position would. They were in the middle of a fight, and she was certain that no one with an ounce of self-respect would pull himself out of it willingly.
The Seawolf slowed to below ten knots, and Kristen turned her attention back to the water around them. But other than the two dying Kilos, which were fighting a losing battle to surface, and the Alvand frigate breaking up, she heard nothing.
The Akula, as well as the Audacious, had gone silent. The remaining MK 48 continued to circle, checking the various depths it had been programmed to, but apparently finding nothing. Kristen wiped her brow and adjusted her glasses, then ran a systems check on her spectrum analyzer. She needed to make certain it wasn’t damaged. They’d severely mangled the forces guarding the Strait in a brief but brutal exchange of torpedoes, but they hadn’t come off unscathed, and there were other submarines out there still looking for them.
On the port side, the aft AN/BQG-5 wide aperture flank array was no longer operating and the midship array was sending a host of error messages. These two arrays were only part of the submarine’s sonar suite and although they would be missed, the Seawolf would hardly be defenseless. Techs arrived as she completed her systems check, and they went to work on the damaged stack Martinez’s head had gone through.
Kristen resumed her methodical search, trying not to think about how badly they might be wounded. Fortunately the torpedo hadn’t hit the hull, but the weapon detonated close enough to cause the entire boat to shudder and potentially damage critical systems all over the submarine. Beside her, the other three sonar operators had run systems checks on their own stacks, and it was discovered the narrowband stack wasn’t operating properly. They shut it down and restarted it, but after another systems check, they received the same error messages indicating an internal processor malfunction.
Kristen did her best to ignore the commotion in the sonar shack as well as the grisly sounds of the two Kilo submarines and the Alvand frigate settling to the bottom. She could still hear crewmen in both submarines pounding on the inside of the stricken boats as well as the sounds of men shouting. It was something she’d never expected to hear and was certain she would live the rest of her life remembering. No one had to tell her the trapped men had virtually no chance of rescue.
Of course, she knew the same fate awaited the Seawolf if they didn’t find the Akula somewhere out ahead of them. There could be no doubt the Akula was looking for them, too, and victory would come to the swift. They moved in a general southerly direction, zigzagging back and forth to expose their good starboard side arrays to multiple directions in hopes of finding something.
“Transients! Transients!” Kristen nearly came out of her seat as she picked up the sudden sound of the torpedo. “High speed screw! Torpedo in the water bearing one-zero-five!” She’d heard nothing at all a moment earlier, and then, without any warning, she heard the whirling of a torpedo racing through the water.
“Sonar, con,” she heard an incredibly calm Sean Brodie’s voice over the squawk box. “Can you classify the torpedo?”
How anyone could sound so calm in the middle of this she had no idea, but she did as he asked and focused on the torpedo noise emanating through the water. The torpedo was heading in their general direction, but not directly at them. Kristen then recognized the torpedo. “Con, sonar. Classify torpedo as Spearfish at nearly eighty knots,” she reported. “Its current track will take it well astern of us,” she explained briefly wondering why the Audacious would fire a torpedo in the Seawolf’s general direction.
“All ahead full! Emergency!” she heard Brodie snap briskly over the squawk box. “Cavitate, dammit, cavitate!” he added with a sudden edge in his voice, and Kristen now realized what was happening. Another submarine was behind the Seawolf. The Audacious had picked up the threat and had fired a torpedo to hopefully force the enemy stalking the unsuspecting Seawolf to maneuver.
Kristen felt the Seawolf accelerate rapidly and turn sharply, the boat’s own noise monitoring alarm alerted them the Seawolf was cavitating. Then, as she gripped the console in front of her to hold on, she heard the second torpedo. It was coming from behind and had gone active. She hadn’t heard it earlier because it was coming out of their baffles, so they’d had no warning and were now running for their lives.
“Torpedo directly astern,” she reported, hoping her voice didn’t sound as scared as she felt. “Range close and homing!”
The collision alarm sounded again. She braced herself, tearing the headphones from her head while the Seawolf vibrated as her steam turbines were pushed past red line to increase speed. They were turning sharply now, making a huge amount of noise. Anyone within ten miles would hear their thundering pump-jet propulsor. But, as they turned, the tactical display lost the torpedo as it passed astern of them, going right through the countermeasures the Seawolf had deployed from the stern of the boat. Then, as if on a roller coaster, the Seawolf turned back the other way. They had no sooner started turning when Kristen heard, behind her, an alarm going off from the WLR-9 acoustic intercept box.