Kilo Class

Americans who would man the airfield were hard at work, in shifts, organizing electricity, heat, and water supply. Boomer and his men continued straight on, past the Rockall Rise, and headed, slower now, for the waters off the southern side of the Shetlands. The Captain reached his holding area and cut the engines back as he accessed the American communications satellite. It was 1600 on January 1, and there was a message awaiting him, beamed down from the overhead, inside five seconds.

The Kilos had cleared Pol’arnyj at 0500 that day and not returned, traveling north into the Barents Sea, in line ahead, making seven knots. They had been unaccompanied and had dived before they reached the trawler waiting fifteen miles offshore. Inside that special-fit trawler was more American tracking expertise per square foot than at Fort Meade, but it had immediately lost contact when the Kilos slid under the surface, and the regular patrolling American SSN was not yet in position.

The “fishermen” had lost the Kilos before the SSN could find them. And now no one knew precisely where they were. For the moment, Columbia could only wait until SOSUS provided some kind of a solution.

Back in Virginia, Admirals Mulligan, Morgan, and Dixon had just gritted their teeth and sent the news on to Columbia by satellite. “Well, both Kilos will be forced to snorkel two nights from now,” said Admiral Morgan, who was back in his natural element, tracking foreigners at all hours of the day and night. “I still think we’ll pick them up.”

On January 3, the third night of the journey along the Barents Sea, the Kilos came to periscope depth to snorkel, and SOSUS heard them up. But the contact was fleeting, right at the end of their charging cycle, and the patrol SSN was too far away to pick them up before they went silent. But at least SUBLANT had a rough fix, and they were able to make a first estimate on the Chinese SOA (speed of advance) of seven knots. Admiral Dixon ordered Columbia to a new holding area close to the Faeroe Islands. Neither he nor Admiral Mulligan believed the Chinese were alerted, but both men thought it possible they might suddenly go for the western side of the Faeroes. Boomer just had to wait patiently for SOSUS to start the hunt in the next twenty-four hours.

The Kilos came up snorkeling at 2300 hours the following night. SOSUS alerted the P-3C operators roughly where to start looking with the sonobuoys. But the weather was bad, and the sea was rough, and sonar conditions were consequently poor. The MPA men were able only to narrow the Kilos’ position down to about a hundred square miles, with an SOA of not more than seven knots, and not less than five. Admiral Dixon ordered the patrol aircraft into the air on the fifth night of January, standing by to follow up any SOSUS contact on either side of the Faeroes. But this was fruitless. The Kilos never showed. Everyone missed them.

^{THE FIRST TWO. The vast patrol area where the US Navy’s Black Ops submarine waited, listening for the distant engines of a Kilo Class diesel-electric.}

Night six was better. Again SOSUS gave the “heads-up” at 2315. The patrol aircraft picked up the two submarines shortly after midnight, snorkeling. There was now time to localize. They established that the Kilos were on the offshore eastern route, closest to the UK — the route Admiral Dixon had expected and hoped for. SUBLANT’s satellite message to Columbia was succinct. It gave the Kilos’ positions, course, and speed at 0100 on January 6. It ended with, “Plan to intercept, two nights from now.”

The seventh night was spent in comfortless ignorance.

On night eight Boomer Dunning was out in his attack area, moving up from the Faeroes knowing that nothing had been heard from the Kilos in almost forty-eight hours. Back in SUBLANT, Admiral Morgan believed they would come up early to recharge the batteries. “They have to be low,” he said, banging his fist on the desk. “These guys must come up to snorkel.”

The hour of 2100 came and went. So did 2200. At 2300, irritation was beginning to set in, not only at SUBLANT but also in the operations room of USS Columbia, where Commander Dunning was trying to get his thoughts in order. “They must snorkel soon or their batteries will be completely flattened,” he said, exasperated. “They cannot have crept by me. They cannot stay on batteries much after 0400, of that I am certain.”

By 0100, there had been no contact. Nothing by 0300. Boomer was beginning to think they might have reversed course and returned to the Barents with engine trouble.

And at 0400 everything was still quiet.

0410: “Captain, sir. Comms. From SUBLANT. SOSUS reports dynamic start. Initial classification, multi-Kilo Class engines — probability area large. MPA called in.”

“Sonar, Captain. The Kilos are snorkeling. What do you have?”

“Nothing, sir. Looking.”

Boomer’s mind raced. He reckoned he was on their approach line. They were late starting their battery charge, and he decided that the Chinese had dropped their SOA to six knots. He might therefore be more than fifty miles south of the Kilos 0400 farthest on circle now. If he moved back up the route, at good sonar search speed, he would not arrive at their position until 0630. Too late. Daylight. They would be deep again. If he were to catch them he had to sprint. Increase to high speed. But they might hear him.

Boomer decided to sprint anyway, calculating that if the Kilos were snorkeling now, overheard by SOSUS but not by Columbia, they must be at least twelve miles away. He’d be safe if he restricted his sprint to fifteen minutes. He might risk twenty. Boomer issued his orders.

“Left standard rudder. Down all masts. Twenty down. Eight hundred feet. Make your speed thirty knots. Steer course 030.”

“Now listen up,” he addressed his team. “I’m nearly certain these guys are about fifty miles back up the track and still coming toward us. They will be snorkeling until at least 0600. We should pick them up next time we slow down. But we may have to sprint again. A close pass, and a short-range detection while we’re sprinting is a possibility. Get four Mk 48’s, and the decoys, on top line all of the time. I hope it won’t turn out that way, but they may open fire on us first. The advantage only swings back to us when we slow down.

“If we have to, we’ll do it the hard way, in a short-range shoot-out, using active sonar. No holds barred. Thank you, gentlemen.”

At 0431 Boomer issued another order. “Twenty up. Make your speed five knots. Right standard rudder. Steer 100. Make your depth sixty-two feet. Radio, stand by for satcoms. Sonar, slowing down and continuing to PD. Be ready with active for snap shot.”

“Sonar, aye.”

“Radio, aye.”

0437: “Captain, sonar. New contact, bow arrays only. TA not established yet. Bearing red 83. Analyzing. Very faint aural. Not close. Track 2307. Tracking.”

“Captain, aye. Stand down snap attack. Left standard rudder. Steer 017. Set guess range on computer twenty thousand yards. Sonar, Captain, I am assuming this is a direct path contact, course 210, speed 6.5 knots.”

“Captain, sonar. Analysis in. Kilo Class engines. No cavitation, weak signals, but steady. Bearing moving slowly left, 015.”

Boomer turned to his navigator and ordered a contact report to SUBLANT: “Kilo Class, snorkeling, bearing 017, ten miles north of us. Course 210, speed 6.5. Closing to investigate/attack.”

Columbia now slid forward, making eight knots for the quietest, quickest approach. The Captain’s attention was caught by another message from sonar, reporting a garbled underwater telephone on the bearing. “Not Russian, interpreter thinks it could be Chinese.”

“Well,” thought Boomer, “if they’re on the UWT there’s gotta be two of ’em, and they can’t be very worried about being detected. I doubt they heard me either, but I suppose they could just be warning each other.”

Now was not a time for speculation. Boomer changed course to help the fire-control solution. The news from sonar was good — firm contact, direct path, good bearings, no change in characteristics. “Feels a bit closer than twenty thousand yards.”

“Captain, aye. Stand by one and two tubes. I’m holding course for another three minutes for the tracking solution.”

0456: “Captain. Computer has a good solution. Track 2307, course 212, speed 6.4, range 12,500 yards. You’re 2,200 yards off track.”