Dangerous Ground

rolled or pushed into the hull.

So he dumped as much ballast out of the Manta’s trim tanks as he could and overrode the launch program. Instead of automatically taking station five hundred yards off the beam, Jerry programmed the Manta to immediately climb and go into a sharp starboard turn.

Hoping it was enough, he reported, “Launching,” into the phones and punched the release. The display showed the Manta’s attitude, and he watched it closely as the latches opened, a little more unevenly than usual, and the nose of the vehicle caught the water flow. It rose so sharply that he had to correct with a full down command or the vehicle might have flipped over. It wasn’t designed to do that. Of course, it wasn’t designed to be launched at this speed, either.

Jerry saw the Manta rise quickly and the starboard turn started just as Memphis turned hard to port, separating the two vehicles.

“Current bearing to sierra nine one is two four three degrees true.”

Jerry acknowledged and turned to the southwest. The Manta’s active and passive sonars both saw the Russian sub and the active sonar was sharp enough to see the Russian’s torpedoes. He reported, “Confirm sierra nine one at two four three degrees, range three four hundred yards. The weapons bear one seven zero and one four zero, both appear to be turning.”

“Then get them away from us, mister. Head southeast and drop a torpedo countermeasure.”

“Captain, the Manta only has one Mark 3 countermeasure left and two Mark 4 decoys.”

“Understood. Carry out the order, Mr. Mitchell.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Understanding Hardy’s intentions, Jerry sent the UUV between the torpedoes and Memphis, heading south-southeast at best speed. He wasn’t sure where the Russian torpedoes were headed until he’d tracked them for a minute, but they were still searching for their target. With the Manta’s acoustic intercept receiver, he could hear the Russian torpedoes as they pinged, still at a long-interval search rate.

The torpedoes occupied most of his attention, but Jerry also kept his eye on the Russian sub. It was speeding up, the passive display brightening as the sub made more noise, and as he watched, a huge spike appeared on the boat’s bearing. He could see the Russian sub changing course sharply to port, turning toward the north.

“Conn, sonar, Sierra nine one has released a countermeasure. He’s zig-ging to port!” announced the sonar supervisor. “He’s increasing speed, turning away hard. It looks like a torpedo evasion maneuver.”

“But we haven’t fired.” Jerry protested.

“It’s the Manta’s sonar,” the supervisor answered. “Its frequency is too high to be a normal U.S. active search set, so they think it’s a torpedo seeker.”

“Which means they think we’ve counterfired.” Hardy concluded. “We’ll use the time to get some distance between us. Mr. Mitchell, I’m taking Memphis northeast. Get those weapons away from us and then see if you can confuse the Russian sub some more.”

During the discussion, Jerry had tracked the Russian torpedoes, figuring out their course and the direction of their turn. He had to do it in his head, because the Manta’s displays were not designed to plot and track multiple contacts. Figuring a sixty-degree-wide search cone on the front of each weapon, he’d adjusted the Manta’s course to put it in front of the torpedoes, but not on a direct line drawn from the weapons to Memphis.

He dropped the last Mark 3 torpedo countermeasure and then headed off to the west, at right angles to the torpedoes’ course.

“Conn, sonar, sierra nine one is at speed now and we can hear his propulsion plant. Contact is classified as an Akula-class SSN, possibly an Akula II.”

Wonderful. One of their newest and best, Jerry thought, although any elderly hulk with torpedo tubes would be a problem right now.

He continued to feed ranges and bearings to the contacts up to fire-control party in control and detected the Akula’s turn almost as soon as sonar reported it. “He’s turning and slowing.” For what purpose?

The torpedoes were indeed heading for Jerry’s countermeasure, and Jerry angled the Manta to the northwest at moderate speed to keep clear of their seeker cones. Memphis’ decoy had started to fade, while the Russian’s countermeasure continued to send out a storm of white noise.

The Russian sub was now almost due west of Memphis, heading north. Memphis was going northeasterly, while the Russian torpedoes circled and harried Jerry’s countermeasure behind her, to the south. Once the Russian countermeasure was abaft his port beam, Jerry changed course to due north and increased speed, trying to position himself between Memphis and the Akula.

But where to go next? Hardy wanted him to distract the Russian boat and Jerry realized that would be easy. He put the Manta on an intercept course and ordered it to go to maximum speed. He also turned on the simulator mode. Maybe the Russian would go nuts trying to figure out what an American nuke boat was doing with a forty- kilohertz sonar.

Jerry kept a wary eye on the torpedoes to the south, on the off chance that their seekers might pick up the Manta, but most of his attention was focused on the Akula. What would it do next and how could he screw around with their minds?

He’d kept control informed of his movements, and Hardy had ordered Memphis to slow to creep speed, hoping to disappear from the Russian’s passive sonar.

“Conn, sonar. Sierra nine one is turning to starboard.” Then the supervisor’s voice increased in pitch. “Launch transients! Torpedoes in the water, bearing two nine zero!”

The Manta’s passive display wasn’t as detailed as Memphis’ upgraded BQQ-5E and Jerry wasn’t as skilled as the sonarmen, but he could see the launch noises on his display and his imaging sonar actually saw one, then two torpedoes as they left the Akula. “Control, U-bay. I can see the weapons!” he announced. “Two torpedoes in the water! Bearing three one zero, range two five hundred yards.”

“I’ll wait on evading until you tell me where they’re headed,” Hardy said.

“Understood. Torpedoes showing zero bearing rate. Range, two two hundred yards from the Manta.” That put them on a course away from Memphis, which lay almost directly off the torpedoes’ port side. “Conn, sonar. Weapons are at search speed.” That was good. A typical torpedo searched at thirty or forty knots, then jumped to fifty or sixty to make an attack. The first pair had been fired at attack speed, so maybe the Russian captain wasn’t sure of his target and fired prematurely. At the combined speed of the torpedoes and the Manta, it would take the weapons one minute to cross the distance.

“Conn, sonar. Torpedoes are drawing to the right,” sonar announced.

Jerry answered, “Steady bearing on the Manta.”

Jerry kept feeding ranges and bearing to control, as well as trying to create a mental picture in his head. The Russian sub had slowed down and was heading southeast, toward him. Either the Akula thought he was Memphis or regarded him as a greater threat. Either conclusion suited Jerry just fine.

“They’re headed toward me,” Jerry announced after a thirty-second eternity.

“Concur. Get out of there,” Hardy ordered unnecessarily.

“Doing it,” Jerry acknowledged.

He turned sharply to the east and held that course for a few seconds. He wanted the Russian to see the course change. Then he dropped a decoy, one of the two large Mark 4s the Manta had left, chopped his speed, cut the simulator mode, and dove for the bottom. Hopefully, he’d just disappeared from the Russian passive displays.

Jerry then turned the Manta back northward, toward Memphis. It was too early to rendezvous with the sub, but he couldn’t let the distance grow too great. The last thing he needed right now was a large time lag in the Manta executing his commands. Memphis was now heading due north. The Russian had stopped turning and was closing on Jerry’s last known position, which was conveniently marked by a very loud countermeasure.

The Akula’s latest pair of weapons started to range-gate, switched to shorter interval search rate, and increased speed. They covered the last five hundred yards to the countermeasure at what looked like fifty knots. As