We found the admiral in TFCC, slouched down in his brown leatherette elevated chair, staring dully at the giant-screen display before him. A cup of coffee that looked to already be cool was in one hand. From what I could tell, Admiral Wayne was seriously short on sleep. Conducting antisubmarine warfare is like watching grass grow ? the pace is almost as fast and exciting, except when things are going really, really wrong. But the tension in a situation like this is nonstop ? you know that the second you leave, something will happen. It's a fact of life.
'Sir, Commander Busby wanted to brief you on the latest intelligence,' Captain Smith said quietly. He motioned me forward.
This was news to me. From Captain Smith's cryptic comments, I had had the impression that Batman wanted to talk to me, not vice versa. God knows I had nothing new or exciting to offer, no arcane insight into the tactical scenario. It was just what it looked like ? an uncertain, unclear situation in which judgment calls would have to be made. And those would be made by Admiral Wayne, not me.
Nevertheless, the captain had gone out of his way to make sure I understood what was going on. It wouldn't do to fail to support him. I cleared my throat and stepped forward to the side of Batman's chair.
'Admiral?'
Batman turned to stare at me, and I almost started at his expression.
The lines in his face looked deeper, his eyes tired and worn. In the last eighteen months that he'd had command of the battle group, we'd been on the front lines almost continually. I'd seen him go from a jovial front runner with a booming voice to a quieter, leaner, and more deadly appearance. It was unsettling, as though conflict had burned away the polish and smooth political veneer that Washington had laid down, exposing the heart of the true man. For some reason, I had a flash of insight. This was what he'd looked like when he first started out, when he was still flying combat air patrol missions and bombing runs.
If the Russians and Ukrainians had counted on encountering something besides a fully qualified and deadly serious flag officer on this ship, which Batman's reputation ashore may have led them to believe, then they were wrong. Real wrong.
'Talk to me, Lab Rat,' Batman said. Despite his appearance, there was no trace of tiredness in his voice. 'You got any good news for me?'
I shook my head, wishing that I did. 'No magic answers, Admiral.
It's just what it looks like ? problems.' Briefly, I summarized the intelligence reports of the last several hours, emphasizing that all our summaries, assessments, and conclusions were mostly speculation. Finally, I said, 'And as for our submarine, Admiral ? the last report was thirty minutes ago. He doesn't appear to have suffered a fatal engineering casualty, at least according to the acoustic sensors we have in the area.
Nothing on sonar to indicate that he's putting out a lot of noise or that he's had to light off any emergency gear.' 'I think he's OK for now,' Batman said slowly. He gestured at the large-screen display. 'Sure, those two bastards hunting him are deadly.
But this skipper ? I know him from way back. If I had to guess, I'd say he's searching for somewhere to hole up for a while, maybe an underwater canyon of some sort. Somewhere that he can have a little protection from the sensors of our two bad asses out there, take some time to think through the situation. That's what they do, you know ? submariners. The ballistic missile guys more than the fast attack, but they're all of the same breed.
Quiet, cautious, and absolutely deadly once they've made their minds up.
No, I'm not immediately worried about him ? when he needs our help, you can be sure that he'll let us know, one way or the other.'
I nodded, relieved in some undefinable sense I could not describe. As closely as I'd worked with submariners in the past, I knew that Batman had a better sense of how they fight their own silent wars beneath the waves.
'Then we sit and wait?' Batman smiled slightly. He pulled himself up to sit straighter in his chair. 'I don't think so. I think we can give our friend a little help, maybe he's had something he hadn't planned on. TAO,' he said, raising his voice slightly so that it carried to the flag tactical action officer, 'how long does that S3 have on station?'
'Another two hours, Admiral,' the TAO replied immediately. 'Plenty of gas, plenty of sonobuoys ? hell, he's bored out there.'
The years seemed to slip away from Batman as his face grew animated.
He hopped off the pedestal his chair was perched on, and walked forward in the small compartment. He stood immediately behind the TAO, one hand resting lightly on the man's shoulder. 'Then let's give them something to think about. Have the S3 lay a pattern of DICASS buoys as close to on top of that Akula as he can. And I want them all pinging, constantly. I want him convinced we can nail his ass to the bottom of the ocean floor anytime we want to. And I'm willing to bet that we'll see him and his little playmate bug out real shortly thereafter.'
'But our orders are to avoid USW operations,' Captain Smith said, once again acting as devil's advocate.
'I know what my orders are,' Batman said calmly. Judging from his reaction, the admiral was used to Smith voicing the objections no one else had the balls to. 'I also know what my inherent right of self-defense encompasses. In my judgment, a unit under my command is in imminent danger. I'm justified in taking all reasonable and appropriate measures to protect here. Under the circumstances, that means letting the Russians know that we know they're there. No more safety-of-navigation ops bullshit. They've taken this to a new level with those MiGs.' 'Admiral?' the TAO asked, his face stunned. 'You want to give away our hand like that?'
'You bet I do!' Batman said. He rolled back to look at me, pointed one finger at me. 'You tell your boys back there that I want to know the second there's any increase in radio traffic or communication with this submarine. Or any hint that the Russians are objecting to us making a lot of noise out here, you hear?'
I nodded. 'I'll just head back to CVIC and-'
The sudden blare of the bitch box cut me off. 'TFCC, CVIC. Sir, we have indications of MiG31 launch ? looks like four aircraft ? sir, they're just taxiing now. As soon as they rotate and get to altitude, I'll know which way they are headed.'
'Get our Alert Five aircraft airborne,' Batman snapped. 'And spin up four more Hornets and two Tomcats on the deck ? I want them at Alert Five now. A tanker, too ? and an E2. I want gas and eyes in the air the second we need them.'
'TFCC, CVIC. TAO, those MiGs are headed in our direction. They're just clearing ten thousand feet and already starting their turn, sir.'
'Roger, copy all.' The TAO's fingers were flying over the keyboard as he orchestrated all the firepower of the battle group. He stabbed a button on the bitch box, got the bridge, and said, 'Launch the Alert Five aircraft. And get six more birds on alert, including a tanker and an E2.'
Seconds later, I heard the raucous blare of the 1MC announcing emergency flight quarters. Overhead, the Alert Five aircraft were already turning, their hard, screaming engines rattling the overhead fixtures.
'If CAG doesn't have them off the deck in six minutes, I'm going to have his ass,' Batman muttered. From what I could hear over the bitch box, it sounded like CAG might break his own record for setting flight quarters.
Sure enough, four minutes after Batman had given the order, the first F/A-18 ripped off the catapult and into the air. I suspected that CAG and the air boss had stashed a couple of people up in the tower just in case of this very event.
In short order, all the fighters, along with the SAR helo, a tanker, and an E2, were airborne. They clustered in the sky overhead, the Hornets taking a quick top-up off of gas from the tanker before vectoring out toward the inbound Russian fighters.
The TAO was fielding calls from the lead fighters now, and he turned to the admiral and asked the million- dollar question 'Do we shoot first?'
'Not yet,' the admiral answered. 'Tell them to continue to close the MiGs and keep their fire-control radars in search mode only. Let's see how serious they are about this. And put another section of Hornets in Alert Five.' By now, the ones he'd ordered into an alert status earlier were already fully fueled and armed, just waiting for their turn. Another aircraft shot down the deck and into the air, shown in deadly menacing shades of gray on the plat camera. The first of the on-station Hornets started howling for fuel. The afterburners chugged it down like it was beer.
'They're turning,' the lead Tomcat reported. Seconds later, our tactical display confirmed what his eyes saw first. The MiGs were peeling off, heading back the way they'd come. By the time the second section of Hornets launched, there were no more MiGs to deal with. Overhead the E-2C Hawkeye kept an anxious eye on the entire
