Dangerous Ground

they pinged, a sharp high-frequency spike appeared on Jerry’s display and so quickly vanished that it merely blinked. Jerry saw them reach the spot and continue onward, heading southeast for another few moments. The ping rate slowed, managing to sound almost plaintive, and the weapons started circling, returning to search speed. They had shifted to a reattack mode. Jerry quickly checked the distance and saw that he was well outside the seekers’ acquisition range.

He watched the Russian sub for any sort of reaction. It had shot at Memphis and she’d evaded. Their second attack had missed as well. Did they still have sonar contact on Memphis? Had Jerry done a good enough job of impersonating a nuclear submarine? The Akula could zig east and south toward Jerry’s old position, or north and east toward Memphis. If they had truly lost contact, then Jerry doubted the Russian would head north.

A new spike appeared on Jerry’s acoustic intercept receiver display, but way to the left, at the low-frequency edge. Almost at the same moment, Jerry heard, “Conn, sonar. Shark Gill transmission bearing two seven zero! Sierra nine one has gone active!”

The Russian captain was tired of being subtle. This wasn’t some pipsqueak little high-frequency set. The Akula’s Skat-3 sonar suite included three large powerful active arrays, one in the sail and one on either flank. It put out enough energy to kill a swimmer if he was near the sub and the low-frequency sound carried underwater for a long way.

“He’s got us,” announced Hardy as he looked at the intercept receiver. “Mr. Mitchell, get in between us and the Russian, max speed. Do whatever you have to do. I’m dumping another countermeasure.”

Jerry had to sandwich his response in between Hardy’s commands to sonar and the other stations. He turned on the simulator mode again and brought the Manta up to the same depth as the Russian sub. He also increased speed to twenty knots. With luck, he could get between the two subs and confuse or obstruct the Russian’s view.

He tried to visualize the Russian’s sonar display. Two echoes. He didn’t know if they looked the same on the Akula’s sonar display or not. One closing at twenty knots, one moving away at a slower speed. The latter had just launched a countermeasure that would show up on both active and passive sonar displays. Jerry told the Manta to eject a decoy, his last. One less difference between the two contacts. He was tempted to turn off the Manta’s active sonar, which the Russians could detect, but decided he needed the information.

Again, Jerry found himself straining to think of ways to attract the Russian’s attention, The Akula’s captain was desperately trying to sort out the situation, evaluating threats, preparing for his next attack, attempting to follow his orders.

The Akula fired again, another pair of weapons. Both Jerry and sonar called the launch to control; after a few seconds it was clear that Memphis was the target. This time, with an accurate fix from the Akula’s active sonar, Jerry knew the weapons would have a much better fire control solution.

He felt the deck shift below him as Memphis turned hard to starboard and dove deeper. Jerry also heard Ho’s protests as Hardy ordered every fractional knot of speed that was left in the plant, but his mind was inside the Russian sub. He imagined the captain sorting out the situation, deciding which of the two contacts represented his real target, and then firing.

So if Jerry couldn’t convince him that he was the real target, then he’d convince the Russian he was a greater threat. He was still on a course that took him between the two subs, but he wasn’t in position to decoy the torpedoes, and probably wouldn’t be until it was too late.

Instinctively, he turned toward the Akula, now about fifteen hundred yards away. He made sure that his speed was set to maximum, twenty knots. At this speed, he’d ram the Russian in about two minutes. Memphis was now headed directly away from the torpedoes, but her best speed was only twenty knots. She couldn’t outrun the weapons even at search speed. She could only prolong the chase.

“Conn, sonar. Torpedoes are range gating! They’re increasing speed!” The sonar supervisor was doing his best to keep his reports professional, but he knew better than most what was heading straight for Memphis.

Jerry called out the torpedoes’ location and also the remaining distance between him and the Akula. The torpedoes would definitely reach Memphis before he could reach the Akula.

“They’re ignoring the countermeasure!” Bair shouted. Then Hardy ordered, “Chief of the Watch, release another Mark 2 countermeasure!”

Then sonar reported, “Conn, sonar. Sierra nine one is zigging. He’s in a hard turn to port and he’s increasing speed. Radical maneuver!”

Jerry could see him on the active display and could tell that he was changing depth. He hadn’t dropped a countermeasure, so the Russian captain knew that Jerry wasn’t a torpedo, but he also knew they were about to collide. The Russian maneuvered to avoid getting hit.

Jerry corrected his course to maintain a closing geometry and to force the Russian to continue maneuvering. The range had dropped to five hundred yards when the Russian increased his turn rate, throwing his rudder hard over, but the Manta was far more nimble than the larger Akula and Jerry stayed with him. The Russian continued his sharp turn and changed depth again, this time rising, and he started to put on more and more speed, gradually pulling away from the UUV.

With the Russian heading away from both the Manta and Memphis, Jerry turned sharply back toward his sub and the pursuing torpedoes. He could see Memphis, now heading east. A few hundred yards away was the counter-measure and the knuckle created by her hard turn. The torpedoes, heading northeast, were a few hundred yards back from that and he could not only see the weapons but their seekers on his display. The Akula was still running away to the northwest.

The torpedoes reached the point of Memphis’ turn and roared past both the decoy and the knuckle. Neither would trigger the warheads, unfortunately. Unlike the first time, though, the weapons did not follow Memphis’ turn; instead, they slowed and their seekers slowed their ping rate. Sonar and the Manta’s displays showed them starting to circle, searching for their missing prey.

“Well done, Mr. Mitchell! They won’t acquire us now,” said Hardy with relief in his voice.

The Akula’s radical maneuvers had broken the guidance wires that connected it to its weapons. Without the Russian sub to guide them, the torpedoes were easier to decoy. “I’m moving in to give them another target,” Jerry reported.

At twenty knots and with his simulator mode still on, the Russian torpedoes picked him up as they circled. He saw the ping rate shift again to a range gate mode and without waiting for orders, he turned northwest, drawing the weapons away from Memphis.

But how many more times could he do this? The Manta’s battery was at forty percent. That meant he could stay at maximum speed for almost an hour, but the Akula was undamaged and had plenty of torpedoes. He could see it starting to turn toward them again. Memphis still had some countermeasures, but the Manta was out.

“Sonar has lost contact on the Akula due to countermeasure interference, but it appears that he’s slowing down. Bearing rate also indicates that he’s zigged again, probably coming back around to reengage.” At his current speed, near maximum, the Russian was blind. As he slowed below fifteen knots, the noise of his engines and the flow of water over his hull would be reduced and soon he’d be able to see, and shoot again.

“Sir, I’m going to make another run at the Akula,” Jerry said over the circuit. As he said it, he put the Manta on an intercept course.

“I don’t think that’s wise, mister. The Manta’s battery won’t last forever.”

“I’m not planning on turning away this time, Captain.”

“What?” Hardy’s shout reverberated over the sound-powered phones. “That Manta’s the only thing that’s kept us alive. Ramming the Russian won’t sink him and we’ll lose our only effective defense.”

“Sir, we are running out of options. I doubt I can fool him again. I’ve got a clear enough picture to tell bow from stern and I have the advantage in maneuverability. I can easily match his zigs with my zags. If I can hit him near the bow, I’ll either take out his tubes or his sonar, maybe both.”

“And a hit near the tail would cripple him, but he still might be able to shoot.” Hardy mused. “All right, Mr. Mitchell, you’ve made your case. Smack the bastard in the face and good luck.”

“Smack the bastard in the face, aye, aye, sir.”