TO STONEWALL JACKSON
PACFLT// ID S072RQ81//
NAVAL INTEL OPS/07
MSGID/DOD 447/7E62//
MSG BEGINS://
PROCEED TO BANDAR ABBAS. RETRIEVE JAGUAR
MSG END//
That’s it he thought, Anupa’s completed her mission. How and where they’d meet her wasn’t mentioned yet, but the first task was get into place. He climbed the sail and came out into bright sunshine. The sea was calm and just a gentle swell slightly rolled the boat. Fifteen or so crew members layout on deck in the sun. He’d allowed them to form rosters for some surface time out here away from the distant coast, it was good for morale. Nathan climbed down the outside of the sail and walked along the deck among them. “Morning Sir.”
“Morning. Great day and a flat sea. We just had a communication from the DOD. I’m sorry but we’re going to have to get back at it. We must head to an area close to the enemy. Get yourselves down below. Sorry, men, and woman.” The crew climbed up the sail and climbed back below. Nathan was the last, shutting the hatch behind him.
“Kaminski, get me a course and heading to Bandar Abbas.”
She checked the chart. “Three five five Sir.”
“Flood forward. Open and trim vents fore and aft. Dive, dive, dive. Planesman, down angle twenty, make your depth two hundred and fifty feet. Speed twenty knots.”
“Twenty at two hundred and fifty Aye Sir.” The deck tilted down to the bow. A short while later the Planesman pulled back on the yoke and the boat levelled out.
“Come to three five five degrees.”
“Three five five Aye Sir.” USS Stonewall Jackson approached Bandar Abbas around fifteen hundred hours.
His Executive officer Lieutenant Commander Larry Sayers stood near the conn.
“XO, take us to a location just east of Qeshm, and hold position. We’ll wait for darkness.” The boat would then be around twelve miles south of the port.
“Lieutenant Commander Lemineux. When we get to our station, stream the buoy and report our position, ask for our orders.”
“Sir.”
Two hours later Lemineux handed him communication. “From the DOD Sir.”
He read it. “COB, get Innes to make ready for another dive, we’ll be bringing Anupa back aboard. Planesman, your heading is North, speed twelve knots.”
THE GHADIR CLASS MINI submarine cruised slowly down the channel in-between Bandar Abbas and the Island of Qeshm.
The sonar operator listened carefully. They were in home waters not far from the naval dock, but still he listened. Fleet orders had told them that their sister boat Salmon was hunting them tonight or tomorrow. It would look to penetrate the port’s defences, Eel was a vital part of these.
The boat’s task was to protect Iran’s coastal areas, not to range far outside the Gulf. Ghadir class is a littoral, coastal submarine, at ninety-five feet long they displace one hundred and twenty tons. With a crew complement of eighteen, the vessel is equipped with two tubes armed with Chinese Yu-6 torpedoes. These guided weapons have a range of twenty-eight miles and an attacking speed of sixty knots. They’re the equivalent of the Mk48. In the context of the Persian Gulf the Ghadir’s range has been described as sufficient.
“Sir, I detect a vessel, no wave wash patterns, sound reflections indicate subsurface contact.”
“Ghadir class?” asked Captain Lakarani.
“I’m analysing the passive returns, Sir.”
The Salmon’s Captain was an experienced submariner Lakarani knew, he served with him onboard the Octopus some years earlier. To “sink” a former commander would be an endless source of jokes and banter.
“Sir, I don’t think it’s the Salmon.”
“What?” This was odd, the navy could be relied on to do as it said, when it said. Lakarani knew to wait, the Sonarman had proved himself to be competent. He watched as the Petty Officer listened, took notes and made calculations, checking charts as he did so.
“Sir, it’s definitely not a Ghadir.”
“Really?”
“It isn’t any other submarine type we operate. It’s a foreign submarine,” he looked up at the Captain, “I’m sure of it Sir.” A foreign boat, so close to Bandar? The stakes were up several notches.
“Any ideas of its type?”
“It’s diesel electric. I’ve heard American and Russian nuclear boats on exercise and it’s not one of those. The best I can say is a large diesel electric boat. The other Gulf navies don’t operate submarines. Sir, I’m a bit of a submarine watcher. Can I tell you what I think?”
“Yes, go on.”
“Sir, the nearest navy to operate them is Pakistan and I know it’s not an Agosta class it’s too quiet. The Chinese type 039B isn’t yet in service. The Indian Shishumar class was the subject of a seminar I attended at the naval academy. It doesn’t sound like one of those at all, it’s prop revolutions count is too low for the speed. That leaves the Sindhughosh class, that’s Russian and sounds like a Kilo. Sir, I don’t think it’s Pakistani or Indian. Permission to speculate?”
“Yes, tell me what you think.” Lakarani knew the PO was good at his job.
“It’s not from the region. So that makes it French, German, Russian, Chinese, Israeli or American. The American’s have some of those new Japanese Soryu class boats. It’s a joint project. Politically only the Israelis or the American’s have a close interest in our area,” he looked up at Lakarani, “it’s one of theirs.” The Captain agreed with him. It added up.
“Where is he and where’s he going?”
“Sir, he’s now fourteen miles away, heading for Bandar, depth two hundred and fifty feet, speed twelve knots.”
“Get me an interception course.”
“Thirty-five degrees Sir.”
“Steer three five zero, speed ten knots.” Captain Lakarani knew that an Israeli or American boat would be here for one thing. To learn more about the Iranian navy and its capabilities. Eel would show them what the Iranian submarine service was capable of all right.
THE IRANIAN BOAT CLOSED in on its quarry. The Captain waited several minutes. “Give me his range.”
“Six point three miles Sir. He’s slowed to seven knots.”
“Plansman, make speed nine knots. Sonar what’s his position?”
“Sir, he’s nine miles south of Bandar and still heading north. Making for the west side of the port.”
“Weapons Officer. What’s our status?” He knew, but wanted it confirmed.
“Both tubes have Yu-6 loaded Sir.”
“Get a firing solution on the enemy boat.” The weapons officer set dials on his console and read off the displays.”
“Firing solution entered Sir.”
“Hold for now Weapons officer.” He waited several minutes.
“Range to enemy? And his position.”
“Range two point six miles, Sir. He’s positioned five miles south of Bandar, heading north.”
Captain Lakarani thought the situation through. An American or Israeli boat was less than three miles off a major naval base, well inside Iranian waters. He commanded an Iranian submarine, he’d one choice.
“Flood tube one, open outer doors.”
“Tube ready, firing solution set for tube one, Sir.” Lakarani waited several seconds.
“Launch tube one.”
From the bow came a vibration and a pulsing sound.
“Torpedo away Sir. It’s running in, speed is now full attack.”
USS Stonewall Jackson cruised slowly towards Bandar Abbas. Two and a half miles astern the Yu-6 ran in at sixty knots; in two minutes fifteen seconds she’d be split asunder and sinking.
Chapter 7
She arrived in Bandar Abbas early morning by bus from Tehran. It had been a gruelling journey but the airport maybe dangerous for her if the news of her assassination had got to the police.