“Position?”
“Twelve miles to run sir,” said Kaminski.
“Weaps, do you have the targeting ready for the strikes on Woody and Duncan Islands?”
“Yes sir, all ready. The data’s good and ready for upload.”
“Slow to ten knots. Let’s get quiet.”
The boat cruised on. Nathan got himself a coffee from the galley; he got a tray with one each for the rest of the control room.
“Thanks sir,” said the COB.
“Sir, I can’t be sure yet, but, I have a hint of a possible contact to the west. It’s intermittent. I’ve been heading it for several minutes now. It could be a biologic.”
“Keep on it Benson. What’s your instinct tell you?”
He looked over and shook his head. “My guess is that it’s not biologic; but it may be.”
They waited for long minutes in silence.
“Sir. I’m finding it too repetitive to be biologic, I think it’s a contact.”
“Keep on it, can you get a heading?”
“Yes sir, it’s heading this way.” After a few minutes, he was ready to call it. “Sir, I think it’s Tango two, I’m getting a spiky waveform, pre screw count.”
A few minutes went by. “Revs up. It’s Tango two, confirmed.”
“Weaps lay in a firing solution, what’s in tube one?”
“Mk 48 CBASS.”
“We’re in open water sir,” said the XO, “we’re sitting fat, dumb and happy.”
“Speed fifteen; we may as well be nearer the launch point. I’ll turn into him when he gets closer.”
“Sir,” said Kaminski, “could you look at the chart?” He almost told her he’d look at it later, but something told him no. He walked over and looked.
“Sir, look. These charts are super accurate; the Republic of China Navy has made sure of that.” She pointed to an underwater canyon. “Look, two seamounts with a snaky canyon leading away to the north. They call it Mogui de tongdao. The Devil’s Passage. We can use it. But Nathan, we need to get an accurate position fix now, before we go in.”
“Ok Nikki, I’m sold. Come to 180 feet, float the comms buoy.” The boat rose and took a position fix from a satellite.
He looked; most of the ridge tops were 980 deep with the central passage floor being 3,000. It was narrow, just 500 feet wide.
“Flood one. Make your depth 1,300 feet. We’re heading into the Devil’s Passage.”
A few minutes later, Benson called out. “Tango two’s coming in behind us. He’s speeded up. Seventeen knots.”
“Seventeen knots, we’ll match him.” USS Stonewall Jackson entered the Devil’s Passage.
“Talk me through, Lieutenant Kaminski.”
“Come to three four zero.”
“Follow her calls, Planesman.”
“Aye sir.”
She took out her digital stopwatch. “Come to zero.” The planesman steered to the right. “Come to eight degrees.” The boat leaned to the right.
Ping.
“Sir, the Yuan class is pinging to get his position and to pick us out.”
“Come to three four zero.” The boat leaned hard to the left.
Ping.
“Now ready for hard right zero four zero. On my count… four, three, two, one, now.” The boat leaned to the right, and the crew held on to whatever they could.
Ping. The boat made its winding way down the passage, pursued by the Chinese submarine. It couldn’t get a shot off, due to the twisting narrow canyon way.
“Sir, we have a side channel coming up to the left, just after the next turn right.”
“We run up it and hide?”
“That’s what I was thinking sir.”
“Do it.”
“It’ll be tight, sir.”
“We don’t have much choice, do we?”
Ping.
“Come to four five degrees. Four, three, two, one, hard full left.” The boat turned tightly, the crew hung on. Had he turned early enough? Or had he left it too late? The heading came to two seven zero. They were still there.
“Sir,” she said, “he’s still following the main passageway. We can rise up and over the north wall. Come over the left ridge wall to the north, then dive back into the passageway behind him.”
“Ok, call it. You have the helm, Kaminski.”
Adrenaline flushed her stomach. “Blow one. Up to 980 feet.” The boat rose.
“Level the boat. Come to zero degrees,” she called. Nikki waited, now it was back into the passage behind him. “Come to seventy degrees.” She waited. “Flood one, turn hard to zero degrees. Open and trim vents fore and aft. Make for depth.” The boat dived into the Devil’s Passage again.
The boat had passed up and over the left hand ridge and dived back in behind the Yuan Class. She hoped.
Ping.
“The ping is up forward,” said Benson. “He’s running to the north in front of us.”
“I have control,” said Nathan, “well done Nikki.”
The Jackson followed the Yuan north up the twisting channel.
“We’re coming to a straight run,” said Kaminski.
“Range to target?” said Nathan.
“Point three miles sir,” said Benson.
“Weaps, lay in a firing solution.”
“Target allocated Tango two. Fish laid in. Tube one, Mk 48. Fish is ready in all respects. Good track.”
“Launch tube one.”
“Tube one launched, fish is running and hungry. Closing, running in, fish now pinging. Running in pinging. Cutting wire. Tango two has blown, emergency blow. He’s climbing. Going up. Fish is turning upwards. Closing.” The Devil’s passage was a frightening, deep, dark place to be. “Tango is climbing hard, full speed. Fish climbing in pursuit. Both climbing fast. It’s a race. He has a buoyancy advantage. We’re running fast on him, but it’s close.”
“Sonar. Hot datum Tango two. Hot datum.” The hull split and a huge gas bubble escaped. The Yuan class fell back and sank deep into the Devil’s Passage. Nathan looked at Nikki and puffed his cheeks.
“I don’t want to do that ever again.”
“SIR, WE ARE AT LAUNCH point for the drone strike,” said Kaminski.
“Ok, speed three knots, up bubble ten. Rig trim to ascend fore and aft forward one third. Come to periscope depth.”
“Weaps, initiate TLAM strike. Woody and Duncan Islands. Call it, Drone strike.” Weaps spent several minutes on his console setting up the op. He looked to his Commander.
“TLAM strike is go. The plan of Drone strike is loaded. Activating all birds Sir.
“VPM tube one. Gannet, returns Gyro up, green board, route A, target T1.
Osprey, returns Gyro up, green board, route B, target T2.”
Nathan shook his head; Weaps had to get all-dramatic.
“Pelican, returns Gyro up, green board, route C, target T3.
Penguin, returns Gyro up, green board, route D, target T4.
Gull, returns Gyro up, green board, route E, target T5.
Puffin, returns Gyro up, green board, route F, target T6.”
The Tomahawks reported their status one by one.
“All birds up and ready Sir.”
“Open outer doors, VPM one.”
“Outer doors open Sir.”
Nathan checked his wristwatch again. He counted the seconds down.
“Execute drone strike on my command.” Fifty seven, fifty eight, fifty nine.
“Go, go, go.” The missiles were launched with a whooshing sound from back aft.
“On the surface, Gannet reports launch, good burn,” said Weaps. “Motor in, wings deployed, gaining altitude. All crew, we have a bird out hunting.” One by one all six reached the surface, ignited their motors and soared into the night.
Gannet approached Woody Island, it descended and flew low over the runway, making a pass to calibrate its navigation systems. It turned and flew back down the runway and headed for the drones parked off the runway centre.