Dangerous Ground

Jerry over the circuit, “Sonar’s picked up a Horse Jaw sonar pinging to the north. It’s most likely an Udaloy-class destroyer.”

That was bad. The Udaloys were the newest class of Russian ASW destroyer. They carried antisubmarine missiles that reached out almost thirty miles. They also carried two helicopters fitted with a dipping sonar and rocket-propelled torpedoes. The Horse Jaw was a big low-frequency set with tremendous power. Actually, the Udaloy class wasn’t the only Russian warship to carry it. If it wasn’t an Udaloy, the other possibility was a Kirov-class nuclear-powered battle cruiser. Jerry decided he’d hope it was an Udaloy.

“U-bay, conn. The Captain wants you to come up to control.” After making sure the Manta could fly safely ahead for a few minutes, Jerry left Davidson to baby-sit while he dashed up to the control room. He found the Captain and the XO huddled over the chart table. They both looked tired and worried.

“At least we know there is a gap,” the XO commented. He tried to sound positive, but it didn’t work.

Hardy didn’t even try. “If that Udaloy spots us, we’re in deep kimchee. Even if we could evade him, his two helicopters would likely pin us down and he’d move in for the kill. Their dipping sonars actually perform better in these water conditions than the Horse Jaw.”

Bair continued. “The only advantage we’ve got is that he has to stay active if he’s going to find us. He’d never get a whiff of us with a passive search, not in water with all this ice.”

“But he’s ideally positioned to block the gap. We either try to slip past him or we’re forced into the buoy field.” The Captain’s conclusion clearly laid out the trap the Russians had set for them.

“So we’re going to take our chances in the buoy field?” Bair asked.

“No, XO, we’re going to cut the corner and run through Russian territorial waters,” Hardy announced matter-of-factly.

Bair and Jerry stood in shocked silence. Hardy’s plan was daring, but also very dangerous. If the Russians found them, there would be no place to hide in the confined, very shallow waters near the coast. Unable to run or fight, Memphis’ chances of survival were nil.

“Captain, I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but are you friggin’ nuts?”

Hardy grinned at his Executive Officer’s unusual outburst. “I haven’t lost all my marbles yet, XO. Look at how they’ve distributed their forces. They’ve covered virtually every path out of the Kara Sea beautifully. Whoever is directing their efforts is a real pro. But, they don’t know how badly we’ve been hurt. They have to assume they’re facing a healthy 688 that can still run — and fight, if necessary. From their point of view, no sane U.S. sub captain would try to navigate the poorly charted coastal waters and risk the excellent chance of running aground. I have a hunch they don’t believe that we’d run the huge political risk of getting caught and sunk in their waters. So, if they’ve covered them at all, I’m betting they’d assign a less capable asset, one that we’d have a better chance of getting past undetected.”

“So to escape, we’ve got to act insanely?” Bair asked skeptically. Then a smile popped up on his face and he waved his right index finger at Hardy. “But there’s a method to your madness. The Manta.”

“Exactly, XO. The Russians don’t know that we have that unique capability. And that’s why you’re up here, Mr. Mitchell.” Pointing to the chart, he traced the new route Memphis would take. “We’re going to turn more to the west and skirt the coastline, within seven miles of land. Any questions?”

Jerry shook his head no. Bair passed as well, although he looked very uneasy. Hardy’s chosen path took them through water that was even shallower than the shoal water they’d been using. The incomplete chart showed some areas along their path as being only one hundred feet deep. Jerry also looked at the length of the route. It was at least twenty-five miles, nine plus hours at their current speed.

“I wish that your Manta could spot sonobuoys for us,” Bair mused.

“You might as well wish it could take them out and clear a path for us as well,” Hardy countered, his impatience starting to grow.

“Actually, I like the sound of that.” But then Bair shook it off. He turned to Jerry. “Mr. O’Connell will give you courses to steer. You will give him constant water depth data and warnings of any obstacles. Can you dial down the power on your sonar?”

“Yessir,” Jerry answered quickly.

“Then use minimum power for our safe navigation. Go.”

Jerry hurried back down to the torpedo room. The instant he was on the circuit O’Connell gave him his first course change, to two eight zero true. Memphis turned slowly, to avoid any risk of creating a knuckle and Jerry used the time to scout ahead.

The seabed started to slope down, away from Memphis. For a change, she wouldn’t head for deep water. Safety lay in the shallows, where sound didn’t carry well and where sea life and wave slap would help hide any noise she was making.

For the first time, Jerry wished they could just fire a pair of torpedoes at the Udaloy. They couldn’t, of course, but even with four fully functional tubes, they’d never do it.

In wartime a single destroyer pinging like that was a sitting duck. But Memphis was the intruder here, and the United States and Russia were not at war. The men on the Udaloy were just doing their jobs, defending their nation from an outside threat. Harming even one Russian sailor would poison the mission.

Even at reduced power, Jerry could still see about half a mile ahead on the sonar display. He turned the confusing screen into an image in his mind and visualized a landscape of rocky hills and ridges pushing up toward the surface. Ironically, the high spots offered the best concealment for Memphis.

There were still risks. The hilltops were not smooth mounds, but jagged, uneven points. A ridge might be indicated by two or three shallow soundings in a line. But a closer, less threatening object could mask a sharp peak, which could suddenly shoot up or, almost as bad, disappear and leave Memphis exposed.

Jerry’s Manta found many uncharted hazards and unsafe spots, where the water depths looked like nothing on their charts. Occasionally, Jerry circled the Manta back to check on exactly how close Memphis was to the seabed. Sometimes Hardy would hug the side of a ridge, dangerously close.

There was no way to know for sure if they were making good their escape. They’d be hard-pressed to detect a drifting warship, because the same noise that hid them would hide it as well. All they could do was hope that they were being quiet enough to pass by any sentry. Aside from Harry O’Connell’s courses and questions about depth, the only other piece of information was the bearing to the pinging Udaloy. It had started out almost due north of them, barring their path like an angry dog. As Memphis circled around the destroyer, the bearing drifted slowly right, like the hour hand on a clock.

Jerry tracked its progress in the back of his mind, and not all that far back. It stood to reason that the Russians wouldn’t station the Udaloy in the sonobuoy field, but along its western edge. Thus, if the bearing changed from due north to due east, it would be reasonable to assume that they’d reached the edge of the field.

Every piece of equipment not needed for the safety of the boat was shut down, from pumps to fans to microwave ovens. Ho’s engineers moved silently through the engine room, making sure that every piece of gear ran as smoothly and at as low a setting as possible. Everyone on board thought hard before he spoke, and even harder before he moved.

* * *

When the bearing to the Udaloy slid from north to northeast, Jerry called it the halfway point. He didn’t know where they were on the chart, but he was sure Hardy’s detour was as close to a straight line as the terrain allowed. Of course, they were also as close to Novaya Zemlya as they were going to get; O’Connell said the island was six miles due west. If the Russians had a ship waiting for them, this was their best chance to catch Memphis. From here on out, the distance between the island and the Udaloy would start to increase. Fortunately, Hardy’s hunch had been right. The path was clear.

It had taken three hours for them to put the destroyer to the northeast. The last forty-five degrees seemed to take forever and Jerry was thankful for every course change and every potential outcropping of rock. He stopped