Sea of Shadows

better than he had thought.

He had three missing U-boats to prove it. But this wasn’t over yet.

He turned to the OOD. “Officer of the Deck, I have the Conn!”

“Officer of the Deck, aye!”

Groeler barked, “All engines ahead one-third, slow to five knots! Left standard rudder, steady new course three-one-zero!”

The boat began to heel over as the Helmsman executed his orders.

“Sir, my rudder is left fifteen degrees! Coming to new course three-one-zero. All engines ahead one-third! Slowing to five knots!”

The Officer of the Deck stared at Groeler. “Five knots, Kapitan? Sir, how can we outdistance a torpedo at five knots?”

Groeler held up a hand. “Launch two static noisemakers,” he said.

“Then wait thirty seconds and launch two mobile decoys. Set one of the mobile decoys for low speed and the other for high speed.”

The Officer of the Deck stared at his kapitan for another second. Then he blinked and turned to the Countermeasures Control Panel. “Aye-aye, sir. Launching static noisemakers now!”

A pair of pneumatic hisses followed by a pair of metallic thumps announced the ejection of the two countermeasures.

* * *

The Officer of the Deck began punching buttons rapidly, programming the mobile decoys as his kapitan had ordered. His hands trembled as he worked. Five knots? They should be racing away at flank speed, not waiting for the torpedo to catch them!

* * *

“The American torpedo is too close,” Groeler said. “There is no time to run. It will catch us before we go a thousand meters. Our only chance is to fool it.”

“Launching mobile decoys, now!” the Officer of the Deck reported.

There was another pair of hisses and thumps as the second set of countermeasures was ejected.

“Excellent,” Groeler said. “Diving Officer, ten degrees up-angle on the bow planes. Make your depth twenty- five meters.”

“Diving Officer, aye! Sir, my bow planes are up ten degrees. Coming to new depth two-five meters.”

“Steady on new course three-one-zero,” the Helmsman called out.

“Very well,” Groeler said. He looked at his Officer of the Deck. “We give the torpedo two static noisemakers to activate its anti-countermeasure algorithm.” He spoke in a quiet, unhurried voice, as though unaware that death was rushing toward them. “Then we give it a pair of mobile decoys — not so easily identifiable. The torpedo is faced with two invalid targets and three possibly valid targets. Two of them move slowly and do not seem to be actively evading. The third moves away at high speed.”

The American torpedo was close enough now to be heard with the naked ear. The growling whine of its high-speed screws resonated through the hull of the submarine like the buzzing of an insanely powerful electric razor. The sound grew rapidly louder as the torpedo approached.

The Officer of the Deck’s eyes darted frantically around the control room, as though searching for somewhere to run. There was, of course, nowhere to go. “The torpedo …” His voice came out in a squeak. He stopped himself and tried again. “The torpedo will acquire the high-speed decoy and attack it instead of us?”

Utterly calm, Groeler turned back to the tactical display. “I estimate that we will find out the answer to that question in approximately one minute.”

* * *

USS Towers (DDG-103):

The Sonar Supervisor’s voice came over the 29-MC announcing circuit. “All stations — Sonar has multiple active 53 Delta contacts off the starboard quarter, bearing one-five-five. Initial classification: POSS-SUB, confidence level low.”

Chief McPherson keyed her mike. “Sonar — USWE, what have you got?”

“USWE — Sonar, I’m tracking five separate contacts. Unless I miss my guess, we’re looking at a cluster of decoys, Chief. Two of my contacts are dead in the water, so they’re probably static countermeasures. The other three are all showing motion. Looks like two are moving slowly, and one is getting the hell out of Dodge.”

The chief keyed her mike again. “Sonar — USWE. Watch your net discipline. The fast-moving contact is probably our submarine, trying to outrun Firewalker’s torpedo. But I want you to maintain a track on all three of your mobile contacts until we get a clear classification. Your two low-speed contacts are designated Alpha and Bravo. Your high-speed contact is designated Charlie. Tag all three contacts and send them to fire control.”

“Sonar, aye. Slow-movers are designated Alpha and Bravo. Fast-mover is designated Charlie. All three contacts are tagged. Transmitting them to fire control now.”

“USWE, aye. Break. UB — USWE. You should be getting contact data on three POSS-SUB contacts in a few seconds, designated Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie. We believe Alpha and Bravo are decoys, and Charlie is our submarine, but we don’t have final classification yet. Prep the starboard tubes for an over-the-side torpedo shot and stand by to launch it on zero-notice.”

Before the Underwater Battery Fire Control Operator had a chance to reply, the Sonar Supervisor’s voice came over the net again. “USWE — Sonar. Firewalker’s torpedo has acquired contact Charlie, the fast-mover.

Torpedo is accelerating to attack speed now.”

The Sonar Supervisor’s next report came over the 29-MC announcing circuit almost immediately. “All stations — Sonar has loud underwater explosion off the starboard quarter, bearing one-six-zero.”

Chief McPherson keyed her mike. “Sonar — USWE. Are you detecting secondary explosions?”

The answer was a few seconds in coming. “USWE — Sonar. Negative.

We did not detect secondaries. But we have no echoes on contact Charlie.”

Chief McPherson keyed her mike. “USWE, aye.” She released the mike button. This was the tricky part. When a torpedo killed a submarine, there was usually a string of secondary explosions following the initial detonation of the warhead. Fuel tanks, battery cells, and the submarine’s torpedoes, all going off in explosions of their own. The lack of secondaries wasn’t conclusive proof that the submarine hadn’t been destroyed. It was possible for the submarine’s hull to crack and fill with water without setting off a string of secondary explosions. But it was rare, and — when it did happen — it turned battle damage assessment into a guessing game.

Had Firewalker’s torpedo killed the sub? Or had it destroyed a decoy?

Was their mission complete now? Or was the sub still lurking out there, waiting for a chance to kill them?

The answer was not long in coming.

“USWE — Sonar. Contact designated Bravo has increased speed and turned toward the minefield. We’re detecting shaft and blade signatures consistent with a Type 212 series submarine.”

The chief banged her fist on the CDRT. “Damn! He tricked us again!”

She keyed her mike. “Sonar — USWE. Copy all. Your contact Bravo is now re-designated as Gremlin Zero Four. Break. UB — USWE. Contact Bravo is now re-designated as Gremlin Zero Four.”

“USWE — UB, copy all. Be advised that Gremlin Zero Four is at the very edge of our torpedo engagement envelope. I hold a firm fire control solution. If we’re going to shoot this guy, we need to do it soon.”

Chief McPherson looked at Gremlin Zero Four’s track history on the CDRT’s display screen. The submarine was heading straight for the minefield.

“USWE, aye. Break. TAO — USWE. Sonar holds a solid track on Gremlin Zero Four, and UB has a firm fire control solution. Request batteries released.”

The TAO’s voice came back at once. “USWE — TAO. You have batteries released. Kill contact Gremlin Zero Four.”