Sea of Shadows

to get tracking data on the second submarine.”

Per the chief ’s recommendations and the captain’s orders, the TAO got on Navy Red and directed Benfold to target both submarines with ASROCs.

“USWE — UB. I hold excellent firing solutions on both contacts.”

“UB — USWE. Stand by. Break. TAO — USWE. Request batteries released.”

The TAO looked at the captain, who nodded. “USWE — TAO. You have batteries released.”

“USWE, aye. Break. UB — USWE. Kill Gremlin Zero Two and Gremlin Zero Three with Vertical Launch Anvils.”

“UB, aye. Going to launch standby on weapon one. Launch ordered.

Weapon away — now, now, NOW!” On the third now, the entire ship shuddered as the first ASROC missile blasted its way out of the forward vertical launch system. “Anvil one is away, no apparent casualties. Going to launch standby on weapon two. Launch ordered. Weapon away — now, now, NOW!” The ship shuddered again as another ASROC missile rocketed out of its cell. “Anvil two is away, no apparent casualties.”

* * *

The second ASROC hadn’t even pitched over into its ballistic arc when the Officer of the Deck’s voice came over the net. “TAO — Bridge. Lookouts are reporting two bright flashes, bearing three-four-four. We’re getting confirmed infrared signatures from the mast-mounted sight cameras. Flight profiles consistent with small missiles.”

“TAO, aye.”

“TAO — Surface. Three-four-four is the bearing to that motorboat. Recommend we re-designate that contact as hostile.”

“TAO, aye. Break. All Stations — TAO, we have in-bound Vipers! I say again, we have missiles in-bound! Weapons Control, shift to Aegis ready-auto. Set CIWS to auto-engage. Break. EW, give me your best course for minimized radar cross-section. Stand by to launch chaff!”

The Electronics Warfare Technician responded a half-second later.

“TAO — EW, standing by to launch chaff, but I don’t think it’ll do any good, sir. I’m showing negative active missile seekers at this time. These Vipers are possible heat seekers, or maybe they’re laser-guided.”

“EW — TAO. Understood. Stand by to launch torch rounds, just in case they’re heat seekers.”

“EW, aye.”

The TAO keyed the net again. “Air — TAO. Where are these missiles heading?”

* * *

Scorpion II (mid-flight):

The two missiles streaking through the night were beam-riders, German-built Scorpion II laser-guided anti- tank missiles. Both were targeted on Benfold, and they closed their target at just under three-quarters the speed of sound. They had been fired from well inside the minimum range of Benfold’s SM-2s, so the luckless destroyer would not have the option of launching her own missiles to intercept.

The target began launching chaff. A half-dozen blunt projectiles rocketed away from the ship. Four of them exploded at predetermined distances, spraying clouds of aluminum dust and metallic confetti into the air to create clusters of false radar targets. The remaining two projectiles were torch rounds: self-igniting magnesium flares designed to seduce heat-seeking infrared guided missiles.

The Scorpions blew past the expanding chaff clouds with zero hesitation. Aluminum dust could fool radar, but the Scorpion missiles had no radar. The missiles ignored the torch rounds for the same reason. With no infrared sensors, the Scorpions couldn’t even see the heat signatures from the flares, much less be distracted by them. In fact, the Scorpions couldn’t see anything but the narrow beams of their laser directors. Their seeker heads were amazingly simple, and — in this situation — that made them amazingly effective.

The target ship’s Close-In Weapon System opened fire. The six-barreled Gatling gun spewed a fusillade of 20mm tungsten bullets into the darkness, cutting the first of the incoming Scorpions into bite-sized chunks. The defensive Gatling gun spun to cover the other incoming missile, but it was too late. The second Scorpion had reached its target.

* * *

USS Benfold:

The missile slammed into the destroyer’s starboard bridge wing, passing through an inch-thick window before detonating. The expanding cloud of shrapnel and fire ripped through the pilot house like a tornado, killing everyone in the bridge crew except the Helmsman. Badly burned, deafened by the concussion, and blinded in one eye, the twenty-two-year-old deck seaman struggled to his feet and stood amongst the wreckage and the smoldering bodies of his shipmates.

Driven so far into shock that rational thought was an alien concept, the young Sailor became only dimly aware of the searing pain coming from the area of his left hand. Perhaps it’s still on fire, he thought, but even that idea felt detached and unimportant. He slowly raised the wounded arm so he could inspect it with the eye that still seemed to be working. But the hand wasn’t there. Someone had taken away his hand, and left in its place a bleeding stump. Splinters of bone protruded from the mangled wrist, and blood shot from the mass of torn flesh and cartilage in a pulsating jet that was fascinating to watch. The Helmsman sank to his knees, and then lay down on the scorched deck, surrounded by the bodies of the bridge crew.

Just for a minute, he thought. I’ll just rest here for a minute, until my head clears. He closed his one good eye.

* * *

Out on the forecastle, Benfold’s 5-inch deck gun opened fire, hurling six shells at the enemy motorboat in rapid succession.

The little boat zigged and zagged with insane abandon as the sky began to rain exploding naval artillery shells. The boat was small, fast, and incredibly agile. Through some combination of skill and luck, it slipped unharmed through the barrage of steel and fire.

Benfold’s big gun began barking continuously, pumping out shell after shell, pausing only long enough between firing for the gun’s auto-loading system to raise the next shell and ram it into the barrel.

The ninth round caught the motorboat, blasting it into thousands of burning fragments no larger than a pack of cigarettes. The tenth and eleventh rounds were already in the air. Both landed and detonated in the same stretch of water that the motorboat had recently occupied. But the target was gone, and the exploding shells succeeded in killing only saltwater.

* * *

Anvil (USS Towers):

The nose cone of Towers’ first ASROC shattered on impact, and the Mark54 torpedo came to life and detached itself from its parachute.

Placement of the weapon was nearly textbook perfect. It acquired its target on the first pass and accelerated to attack speed before the submarine could even maneuver.

The water was shallow in the straits, and the shock wave of the explosion was magnified, sending a base surge of displaced water fountaining thirty feet into the air. Gremlin Zero Two was obliterated.

* * *

Anvil two didn’t meet with the same level of success. At the top of the weapon’s ballistic arc, the second VLA’s airframe jammed and didn’t separate properly. The torpedo couldn’t detach itself, and the entire missile assembly fell out of the sky well down range of its target. Falling ten thousand feet without a parachute, the faulty weapon disintegrated on impact with the water.

* * *

USS Towers:

The Sonar Supervisor’s voice came over the 29-MC: “All Stations—

Sonar has multiple hydrophone effects off the starboard beam! Bearings two-six-zero and two-six-five. Initial classification: hostile torpedoes!”