26 May 2000, 1145LT (2145Z)
Through the fog of sleep and fatigue, Hunter heard Warran Jacobs knock on his door and enter the stateroom, reporting that he was relieved as officer of the deck by the Weps. Jacobs also reported they were steaming on a course of one-eight-zero true, at a standard bell and a depth of five-seven-five feet. There were no signs of the CHICAGO or any other contact. He heard himself answer, “Very well, Mr. Jacobs,” before tumbling back into darkness.
It was mid-afternoon before Hunter aroused. He headed aft for an invigorating hour of working out on the Life Rower and Versa Climber, installed in out-of-the-way corners of the engine-room. This was his effort so the crew could get at least a little exercise on the cramped boat. He then showered and headed to the wardroom in search of a cup of the ever present black coffee.
There was a knock on the wardroom door and HMC Pugh, SAN FRANCISCO's Corpsman, stepped in.
“Knew that I would either find you here or back on the Life Rower, Skipper. The XO stopped in to talk to me a little while ago,” he opened.
“Damn, I told him not to talk to you,” Hunter snorted. “Guess I’ll have to have a discussion with him about the penalties for insubordination.”
“Captain, this could be serious. How long have you been having these dizzy spells and when do they happen?" Doc asked.
“Not very often, only when I am tired and usually when I stand up,” Hunter answered.
“Just dizzy, or does the vision tunnel? Have you ever blacked out?" Doc continued his interrogation. He pulled a blood-pressure cuff from his back pocket and wrapped it around Hunter’s arm.
“Doc, you really are worse than my wife. I just got a little dizzy, that’s all. Don’t you have someone who needs a shot or something?” Hunter retorted angrily. He knew he was lying to the Doc and it bothered him greatly, but what was the choice?
Doc Pugh pumped up the cuff, plugged the stethoscope in his ears and measured the Skipper’s blood pressure.
“105 over 70,” he murmured. “Low, but normal for you. Resting pulse is 50, strong and robust.”
“That’s what I said,” Hunter grunted. “Everything is normal. I’m fine, maybe just a little tired.”
Doc Pugh rose to leave, “OK, Skipper. Just tell me if it reoccurs or gets any worse. You need to ease back on the coffee and get more rest. We’ll need to do some tests when we get back to Pearl.”
“Yeah, sure Doc. Count on it.”
27 May 2000, 0737LT (26 May, 2337Z)
“Our Chinese friend tells us that their agent in Hawaii reports one of the American nuclear submarines made an unscheduled late-night departure,” Admiral Suluvana began his brief. "Very unusual."
Across the broad expanse of his desk sat the commanding officers of two of his KILO class diesel submarines. They were particularly attentive. The portly little admiral had a vicious temper and would not tolerate even the slightest missed detail. Suluvana was ruthless in his drive to power. A mistake could easily cost a subordinate his life.
The Indonesian Navy recently purchased four modern Russian-built export diesel submarines, courtesy of the Chinese Peoples Liberation Army Navy (PLAN). The crews completed familiarization training in the frigid Arctic Ocean off the Kola Peninsula and then made the long transit down the coast of Europe and Africa, around Cape Horn, and through the Indian Ocean, to Java. They conducted anti-surface ship and anti-submarine exercises while en route. By the time they arrived back home, they were very proficient warriors of the deep.
Two of the four boats were placed directly under Suluvana’s command. His official assigned command included responsibility for patrolling the Eastern approaches to Indonesia. The other two were homeported at Banda Aceh, Sumatra, where they could control the Malacca Straits and the Western approaches. His KILO submarines were key to the Admiral’s much more secret plans. They were the weapons that would swing the balance to him.
“We have information that leads us to believe that this American submarine is on a mission to hamper our activities. Evidently our Chinese spy is quite friendly with the American submariners." Suluvana rose and stepped over to the large chart of the Southwest Pacific and Southeast Asia covering one wall of his large office.
He pointed to two ship cutouts pinned to the chart, one a few inches to the West of the other. "There is also the possibility that either the ESSEX amphibious group or the NIMITZ battle group may be directed against us. They are both en route for regularly scheduled Arabian Gulf deployments,” the admiral continued. “You two are assigned to intercept these ships. You will stop them from entering our sovereign waters using all means at your disposal."
He slapped two areas with his pointer. "You will establish patrols here and here. If any of the American ships get past you, you will report immediately. You will remain undetected at all times. If you detect an American submarine, you will attack immediately. I don’t care about surface ships, even the American carriers. Submarines are the real threat. Do not let them past you. This mission has the highest possible classification. Do not discuss it even with your crews."
The two commanding officers rose and left the briefing room to return to their ships. Their duty was clear and they were ready to carry out their
