The captain cut him off. “By the time
“What if we can’t get to the
“We will,” the captain said quietly.
“But, what if we don’t? That air crew is going to die …”
Captain Bowie wheeled around. “Do you think I don’t know that? Do you
The XO didn’t say anything.
“How many people are dead already?” the captain snapped.
“I don’t know, sir.”
“We lost three to that goddamned torpedo, not counting the wounded.
When he dropped his hand, his voice was much softer. “We will do everything we can to save the crew of that aircraft. But those subs have racked up an unbelievable body count. We sink that bastard,
Everything else is a secondary consideration. If it costs us three more lives, then we pay the price.” He turned away and half-whispered, “We pay the price.”
They stood in silence for several moments, until the TAO interrupted.
“Captain,
“Is the crash-and-smash crew standing by?”
“Yes, sir, and Sick Bay is prepped to receive casualties.”
The captain punched keys on his console, and views from each of the three flight deck cameras popped up on the Aegis display screen. The video was black-and-white but very high resolution. Even so, the helo appeared as a blur at first, a gray and white smudge against black waves.
The pilot had bought himself some time by jettisoning his torpedo and ejecting his load of sonobuoys. Somehow the helicopter was still managing to claw its way through the air, darting and fluttering like a sparrow with an injured wing.
The crippled aircraft came in from the aft starboard corner of the flight deck, and it was immediately apparent that its angle of approach was all wrong. The LSE (short for Landing Signal Enlisted) tried to wave the helo off, but it was obvious that it didn’t have the power to gain altitude for another approach.
The helo’s tail wheel caught the edge of a flight deck net, and the belly of the aircraft slammed into the deck, crushing the landing gear.
The pilot cut power instantly, but the helo rolled far enough onto its port side for the rotors to scrape the deck. The blades shattered, and shrapnel flew in all directions.
A hand-sized chunk of the rotor hit the chock-and-chain man just below the right knee, shattering the bone and nearly amputating his leg. A larger piece of rotor hit the front window of the helo control tower, turning the safety glass to an instant network of spider webs. A smaller piece dealt the LSE a glancing blow to the side of the head, dropping him to his knees, but his cranial helmet reduced the impact to merely bruising force.
Miraculously, though pieces of the shattered rotors ricocheted off the deck and bulkheads, no others found human targets.
The crash-and-smash team started moving the instant the helo was on deck — one team spraying the wrecked aircraft with firefighting foam, and another rushing up to access the cabin and rescue the crew.
The pilot and copilot, both of whom could walk with assistance, were out in less than a minute. The SENSO, Petty Officer Haynes, had to be carried out on a stretcher.
The Helo Control Officer watched as his crash-and-smash team continued to blanket the downed aircraft with foam. “We’re going to have to push it over the side,” he said.
“We need the captain’s permission to do that,” the LSE said.
“Of course we do,” the HCO said. “But it’s not like he’s going to have a choice. No way that bird is leaving the flight deck under its own power.
Maybe if we were back in the States, they could crane it off and haul it back to the squadron for a rebuild. But right now, it’s blocking the flight deck, and we can’t launch or recover
His words proved prophetic. Ten minutes later, the captain ordered a fifty-man working party to muster on the flight deck. Working together under the orders of the HCO, they rocked the damaged aircraft back and forth until they could roll it off the deck.
CHAPTER 46
The image on the left Aegis display screen was a live video feed from the
Captain Vargas pointed to the screen. “Look at those bastards. Going about their business-as-usual routine, just as innocent as you please. And not a hint of the fact that they just cut one of our aircraft to ribbons a few minutes ago.”
“Can’t say I blame them for playing nice,” Lieutenant (jg) Sherman said. “A couple of shots from our 5-inch gun, and they’ll be visiting Allah in person. A helo is one thing, but they’re not stupid enough to risk mixing it up with a destroyer.”
“Looks like the sub is gone,” Captain Vargas said, still watching the screen as
“It hasn’t had time to go very far, ma’am,” said the USWE. He started punching buttons on the CDRT. “I’m setting datum at the northern edge of the oil platform, since that’s the last known location of the sub.” He punched another few keys and watched the display screen. “Okay, here’s our farthest-on circle. I’m building in the assumption that the sub got under way about fifteen minutes ago, or within five minutes of the last sighting by
The captain nodded. “What’s our predicted sonar range?”
“About forty-five hundred yards,” the USWE said. “But I’d rather err on the side of caution and base our search plan on thirty-five hundred yards.”
“We can cover the search area in three parallel passes,” the captain said.
“My thoughts exactly, ma’am.”
“Do it. Execute your search plan.”
