The pressure inside the dying submarine dropped instantly, as the hungry fireball sucked up all of the available air. A millisecond later, the sea crashed through the broken hull and pulverized everything inside.
The broken pieces of
USS
The 29-MC speakers thundered to life. “All Stations — Sonar. Loud underwater explosions with secondaries, bearing zero-zero-two! I think we got the bastard!”
A cheer went up in Combat Information Center, followed by what seemed to be a collective sigh of relief.
The 29-MC speakers thundered to life again. “All Stations — Sonar has hydrophone effects off the starboard bow! Bearing zero-zero-five! Initial classification: hostile torpedo!”
Chief McPherson’s eyes jerked back to the CDRT.
Captain Bowie stared at the hostile-torpedo symbol flashing red on the Aegis display screen. There was nowhere to run. They couldn’t evade.
The torpedo screaming toward them was a German-built DMA37, the same model that had broken the
The seconds dragged on, and the captain gradually became aware that nearly every pair of eyes in CIC was locked on him. He was their commanding officer, and their eyes were begging him to lead them out of this trap. He kept his eyes on the tactical display. There was nowhere to go.
The XO nudged him, “Jim?”
Captain Bowie stood without speaking. They were surrounded by mines. If they tried to run, they were nearly certain to hit one. If they
He started to open his mouth and then stopped himself. A clear passage … They didn’t have time to find one. Could they make one?
He keyed his mike. “Weapons Control — Captain. Forget that last missile site. Train the 5-inch gun directly off the bow. Use maximum elevation and reduced powder charges. I want those rounds to fall as close to the bow as possible. HE-CVT, fused to go off when they hit the water.”
“Sir?”
“No questions, just do it. In fact, I want every gun we’ve got, including the .50-cals and the chain-guns pointed into the water off the bow. Maybe we can blow ourselves a safe path out of here.”
Two hostile-missile symbols vanished off the Aegis display screens, leaving two more inbound missiles.
“TAO — Air. Splash two more Vipers. Both of them to jamming. No takers on the chaff.”
“TAO, aye.”
The ship gave two shudders, accompanied by the roar of two missiles launching.
“TAO — Weapons Control. Two birds away, no apparent casualties.
Targeted one each on the inbound Vipers.”
“Screw the missiles,” the captain said. He keyed his mike. “Weapons Control, this is the Captain. Let Aegis handle the missiles. We’ve got an inbound torpedo that we
“Weapons Control, aye.”
The gunfire increased in intensity as the rest of the ship’s guns joined the 5inch. The barrage was unholy.
“Captain — Weapons Control. We’re pumping everything we’ve got into the water, sir. You may maneuver when ready.”
The captain keyed his mike. “Bridge — Captain. Let’s go! Left standard rudder! Get us out of here!”
“Bridge, aye!”
As the ship heeled over into its turn, the XO leaned near the captain’s ear. “Do you think this’ll work?”
The captain shrugged. “Frankly, I have no idea. I just know that it’s better than sitting back there waiting to die!”
A thundering boom rattled the ship.
“TAO — Bridge. Close-aboard explosion off the port bow.”
Another explosion followed immediately.
“TAO — Bridge. Close aboard explosion dead off the bow.”
All around CIC, watchstanders began exchanging glances. Maybe this really
On the Aegis display screen, the speed vector for
“TAO — Air. Splash one more Viper. We still have one inbound, and it’s too close for another missile shot.”
“TAO, aye. We’ll have to let the aft CIWS mount handle it.”
Another explosion rocked the ship, this one much closer than the others had been. The shock wave rolled the ship hard to starboard, and circuit breakers began to trip, cutting off electrical power to parts of the ship.
“TAO — Weapons Control. Aegis is down! Primary computer is off line! I’m taking control of the backup computer and reloading in alternate configuration.”
“Weapons Control — TAO. What’s the status of the aft CIWS mount?”
“Just a second, sir,” the Weapons Control Officer said. “It’s … uh …
It’s … I can’t tell, sir! I lost my data feed from CIWS! I can’t tell if CIWS is up or down!”
The missile was an ugly thing. It bore little resemblance to the sleek, dart like airframes of the German and American missiles. Its blunt nose, fat cigar shape, and stubby wings gave it the same general lines and proportions as a 1950s airliner. Seen in the daylight and under other conditions, it might have seemed comical.
But in the darkness, it was invisible, except for the yellow-blue streak of glare that trailed its engine exhaust.
It was a capable machine, despite its comic appearance, and there was nothing even remotely amusing about the 454 kilograms of high explosive packed in its warhead.
The missile made a last-second course correction and darted in for the kill.
The aft CIWS spun on its mount and pointed its six barrels at the incoming missile. With a sound akin to a lawn mower, the high-tech Gatling gun spun its barrels up to speed and unleashed a burst of 20mm rounds. A fraction of a second later, the cluster of hardened tungsten bullets slammed into the incoming missile, and the HY-1 Silkworm missile disintegrated in an expanding cloud of fire and shrapnel.
The CIWS mount swung back around to its zero position and waited for another target.
“TAO — Bridge. We are clear of the minefield.”
Chief McPherson nearly broke her finger jamming the mike button.
“Bridge — USWE. Crack the whip! I say again, crack the whip!”
“Bridge, aye!”
The ship heeled abruptly to starboard as the bridge began the series of tight switchback turns that were supposed to throw off the pursuing torpedo.
