would our enemy break off the attack upon our ship and leave us at large? Slava was a relic. We are the target they would most want to strike, without question.”
“Perhaps it was a warning, sir,” Karpov suggested. “Sinking an old rust bucket like Slava makes a point, but does not sting quite so much. And a near miss on Kirov also makes a very direct point. If they have done this I am thinking it must be the work of an American submarine, sir,” said Karpov.
In his mind, Karpov saw the situation as he might view any impending quarrel with potential rivals. Once he had struck a particularly effective blow at a senior Gazprom manager by first discrediting one of his assistants by making sure some important statistics he needed for a report were delayed, and then savaging the man at a briefing by using those very same numbers to flay his report. The incident cast a shadow on the senior manager, making him wary and suspicious, and showing him his own vulnerability. It put fear into him, and fear had a way of slowly sapping a man’s ambition and strength. Clearly someone had struck a hard blow, not directly at Kirov, but at her weaker companion ships. It was a maneuver Karpov inherently understood, as he had practiced the tactic many times in his checkered past.
“Remember, I correctly put the ship into a high speed evasive turn sequence just after the initial detonation.” He held up a finger to emphasize the word ‘correctly.’ “I was not about to wait and hear from Tasarov that a torpedo had acquired us.”
The Captain had started a maneuver known as ‘cracking the whip.’ When threatened by a torpedo, a surface ship would increase to flank speed and make a series of high speed turns to port and then starboard and back again in order to create a series of overlapping wakes behind the ship. It was a potential defense against wake homing torpedoes, which might become confused in the churning seas and veer off in the wrong direction as they tried to follow a wake.
“You also wisely gave the order for active sonar just minutes after the explosion we detected,” the Captain continued, buttering up Volsky’s dark bread for a moment. “Perhaps these maneuvers were enough to give this submarine second thoughts.”
“It was you who argued against active sonar, Karpov,” the Admiral reminded him, seeing how he had cleverly lumped that high speed maneuver in with his own decision to go to active pinging.
“Yes sir, but given the situation I can only assume the enemy knows we are aware of him now and has broken off his attack for the time being, though he may be tracking us, very stealthily, very quietly, waiting for just the opportunity to strike again. It could be one of their new Virginia class submarines, sir. Tasarov would not hear it easily in these conditions, if at all.”
“Then you are suggesting we resume active anti-submarine operations? Orlov, what do you think?”
“I agree with the Captain, sir. It's the only explanation that makes any sense.”
“You do not think Orel suffered an accident?”
“That's possible, sir. But the disappearance of Slava leads me to believe something else is going on. I recommend we get one or both KA-40s up now that we have recovered the KA-226. If what Karpov suggests is true, the activity may keep this submarine from any further ideas about attacking. The Captain ordered a high speed turn right after the explosion. That was followed soon after by active sonar.” He repeated Karpov’s own logic. “Now we have slowed and the sea conditions have improved. Yet this would give the appearance that we are lying low, listening and waiting. Launch the KA-40s, Admiral. If this submarine believes we are still actively looking for him, aware of his presence, then he will think twice, even three times, before he dares strike at Kirov again. And if he does, we punch him in the face.”
It was much like Orlov to play the devil's advocate in any situation like this, and to assume the worst possible potential outcome in any scenario. It was also typical of him to ratchet up the matter by taking some more direct action. Lying low and listening on passive sonar was a long and often boring procedure for him. He much preferred the more direct application of an active sub hunt, using the helicopters like a pair of bloodhounds to sniff out the foe while the ship waited with a strong fist of reprisal. “So we should have the torpedoes active and ready,” he said, referring to Kirov’s own anti-submarine torpedo defenses.
While the Chief had not expressed his innermost thoughts directly before this, he sided with Karpov earlier, and now seemed to be strongly reinforcing the Captain’s opinion that the ship should be operating on a wartime footing.
Volsky pressed his lips tightly together, deciding. “Very well, gentlemen, I will indulge you both. Begin active antisubmarine operations at once. We have recovered the KA-226. Now launch both KA-40s and have them each search a 180° arc around the ship.”
Captain Karpov seemed very encouraged by this, and immediately turned to Tasarov at the ASW station to inform him of the new orders. It was not merely that he had been vindicated, his fears justified, his opinions respected. He had also successfully colored the incident with his own view that this was, indeed, an attack, and no mere accident. In doing so he had discredited the Admiral’s own appraisal of the situation, and laid further groundwork to bolster the fact that he had been correct all along.
Yet on another level he was equally relieved because the ship was now taking every possible precaution against another attack, particularly against a submarine, and his inner fears were held in check by the direct actions they were now taking. They were no longer cruising sedately along through that confounding fog, a big fat target in his mind. They were no longer the victims, the target of an unseen foe. Now they were hunters. Now they were seeking well deserved revenge. Someone was going to be held accountable for the loss of Slava and Orel. It was not going to be Kirov, and by extension, it was not going to be him. If they found this enemy submarine lurking in the depths he had every intention of recommending they immediately kill it, punch it in the face, just as Orlov had put it. So he was hopeful they would have a contact soon, and he was not disappointed.
The whirling roar of the helicopters could soon be heard as they took off, one heading northeast, the other southwest. The KA-40s would position themselves just over the horizon on either side of the ship, and drop their RGB-16-1 radar hydro-acoustic buoys, extending the a ASW awareness of the ship by a considerable distance. If nothing was found they would move further, repositioning from point-to-point, dropping buoys and sending telemetry directly to Tasarov's onboard systems. Twenty minutes later the helicopters had found something lurking in the depths of the Norwegian Sea.
The slower speed and better ocean conditions had also improved Kirov's passive sonar reception considerably, and Tasarov was listening intently at his station, watching the data streams coming in from the distant KA-40s. Suddenly there was something different in the backwash of his signal, and he sat up stiffly more alert, noting his screen where he saw the telltale trace of the signal. The tonals were very unusual. He made some adjustments to try and tune his systems in on the contact, yet it was very faint. Possibly quite distant, he thought at first, until data from the KA-40 gave him a solid fix.
“Con, sonar contact bearing 140, range twenty-two kilometers. Possible submarine-confidence high!” Tasarov immediately reported his contact and Karpov was soon at his side, leaning in to look at his screens as the sonar man pointed out the information. He was rubbing his cold hands together now.
“It's a very weak signal,” said Tasarov. “And it doesn't conform to anything we have in the ESM database.” The electronic surveillance measure database stored signatures of various ship types based on their radar and signal emissions, return characteristics and electronic profiles. The contact was a clear unknown. “We barely have a hold on it,” he said, “but it's there. Moving very slowly now, perhaps no more than ten or twelve knots.”
“They know we are listening,” said Karpov turning to the Admiral. The contact was further evidence that the scenario he had put forward was entirely correct. “Thank god I had the presence of mind to take the necessary action.” In crediting himself he stuck a bur in the Admiral, but Volsky overlooked the remark as the Captain rattled on.
“Even if we do have signatures on the American Virginia class, these boats are still very slippery, sir. That data is not yet reliable. But at least they know we are on to them now.” He turned to the Admiral, arms folded on his chest, eyes bright. “I recommend we engage the target, sir.” They had found their devious enemy, now it was time for reprisal.
The Admiral considered this, but quickly decided against an attack. “No, do not engage for the moment,” said Volsky. “If we are not at war, then we certainly don't want to begin one, do we? But instruct the nearest helicopter to vector over that position and hold station just below 600 meters. I want to be sure they can hear our rotors if they are listening. We will show them we know exactly where they are and see if that changes the situation.”
“They will take evasive maneuvers, sir,” Karpov complained. He knew that once you had exposed a potential enemy it was essential to make a quick kill. Never let a rival regain his balance once you had him by the collar-that
