Power Play

CHAPTER 8 THE BARENTS SEA

In Kazan’s Central Command Post, Captain Second Rank Anatoly Mikhailov verified his submarine’s position on the electronic chart, not far from where the torpedo fired during their last exercise had gone to the bottom. They had just entered the two-layer exercise area, with Kazan assigned to the deeper portion. Upon joining Russia’s submarine fleet, Mikhailov had been surprised at how tightly submarine underwater movements were controlled. On the surface, submarines could determine what route to take going from points A to B. Once submerged, however, submarine transits were along specified tracks, and no two submarines were allowed to operate in the same area except during carefully controlled training engagements or transits. In those cases, one submarine would be restricted shallow and the other deep.

The reason for this was the complexity of tracking contacts while submerged. On the surface, radar and the human eye easily conveyed the information required to avoid another ship, but not so underwater. Unlike radar, passive sonar could only determine the direction of the contact, not how far away it was. With only the bearing to the contact, determining its course, speed, and range took time; time during which a contact could approach dangerously close.

It was not uncommon for submarines, particularly during the Cold War, to collide as one trailed the other in a high-tech game of cat and mouse, guessing wrong at what new speed and course the lead submarine had maneuvered to before the crew sorted it out. Even after the Cold War, collisions still occurred. Just to the south, off Kildin Island, an American submarine — USS Baton Rouge—had collided with K-276 Kostroma.

Mikhailov wasn’t worried about American submarines at the moment. His first concern was Alexander, ensuring Kazan stayed within its specified depth stratum as his crew determined a firing solution. They were at Combat Stations, tracking Alexander lurking off Kazan’s starboard beam. The conversations in the command post were subdued and disciplined as they prepared to attack.

Harrison dove the SDV deeper, angling toward the bottom. The faint light from the surface had faded, leaving Harrison and Carver shrouded in darkness aside from the dive light that Carver used to search the water ahead. Harrison checked the depth gauge; they were almost there. A moment later, the bottom of the Barents Sea appeared. The bearing to the torpedo pinger was still straight ahead, so Harrison leveled off the SDV and slowed as Carver searched side to side with the light. On one of the sweeps, the light illuminated a torpedo with a smashed nose lying on the gravelly bottom.

Harrison shifted the propeller into reverse, then cut the engine after the SDV slowed to a halt. After a few taps of the controls, the SDV drifted downward, coming to rest on the bottom. Carver exited the SDV, as did Harrison, who grabbed the second dive light. The two SEALs examined the torpedo. It had remained in one piece, with the only damage being a crushed nose.

Now came the hard part. An American heavyweight torpedo, fired by submarines, weighed three thousand pounds and the Russian torpedo would be somewhere in that range. Carver dug his hand into the gravelly bottom. It was loose and easily excavated. He retrieved three flotation devices, with floats on each end connected by a cable, unhooking the cable from one device on each. The two SEALs dug three small trenches beneath the torpedo and slid the cables beneath it, reconnecting the three flotation devices on the other side.

Carver activated the flotation devices on the front and back of the torpedo, which filled the floats with carbon dioxide. He then activated the middle one, which was adjustable, inflating both ends to fifty percent. The torpedo remained on the bottom. Carver increased the buoyancy until the torpedo slowly rose. He held it down while Harrison lassoed the tail of the Russian weapon with a nylon rope, tying it to the back of the SDV. Carver released his grip and the torpedo rose slowly until its ascent was halted by the rope.

Satisfied that the weapon was sufficiently buoyant and firmly attached to the mini-sub, Harrison and Carver returned to the SDV. A moment later, it lifted off from the bottom and angled slowly upward, towing the torpedo backwards through the water as they headed toward USS Michigan.

Captain Third Rank Erik Fedorov, Kazan’s First Officer, stood behind two fire control consoles, peering over the shoulders of the two operators. He tapped one man on the shoulder. “Set as Primary.” He complied and Fedorov announced, “Captain, I have a firing solution.”

Mikhailov examined the target parameters. Alexander was eight kilometers off Kazan’s starboard beam, headed west at ten knots. He was about to issue the Prepare to Fire order when he was interrupted by a report over the command post speakers.

“Command Post, Hydroacoustic. Request the Captain’s presence in Hydroacoustic.”

Mikhailov stepped into the adjacent Hydroacoustic center. “What is the issue?”

The Hydroacoustic Party Leader replied, “We have a problem, sir. Shortly after entering our operating area today, we gained the end-of-run pinger from the torpedo we fired at Alexander last week.” He pointed to a sonar trace on the screen — small green blips to the northeast, appearing every ten seconds.

Mikhailov had trouble discerning the problem. Picking up the end-of-run pinger was to be expected. “And…?” he asked.

“It started moving a few minutes ago.”

Mikhailov took a closer look at the track. It had a slight bearing drift. The Hydroacoustic Party Leader continued, “It looks like we’re having another malfunction.”

Kazan’s tactical systems had been significantly modernized compared to the previous Yasen class submarine, Severodvinsk, and there had been numerous bugs and ghost traces as the programmers fixed the defective software. All of the kinks had supposedly been worked out, but apparently not. The extent of the malfunction was what worried Mikhailov. Before he fired one of the new torpedoes loaded aboard this morning, he needed to ensure his solution was accurate. It would not reflect well on him and his crew if the torpedo sped off in an errant direction.

“Do you think a restart will fix it?” Mikhailov asked.

“A warm restart is unlikely to help. If you want to address this, a cold restart is required.”

Mikhailov considered the recommendation. It’d take twenty minutes for a complete cold restart, wiping the memory banks clean and reloading all data and algorithms. Before giving the order, Mikhailov considered the possibility the hydroacoustic system was actually working properly. If so, that meant the torpedo was being retrieved by someone.

“Evaluate all hydroacoustic parameters for additional indications of a malfunction. In the meantime, perform a detailed search in the northeast sector.”

“Conn, Sonar. Gained a new contact on the towed array, designated Sierra five-one, ambiguous bearings one-five-zero and two-one-zero. Analyzing.”

Wilson, seated in the Captain’s chair on the Conn, listened attentively to Sonar’s report. Up to now, everything had gone as planned. Michigan had slipped quietly into the Barents Sea and Sonar had reported that the Russian torpedo’s end-of-run pinger was gaining strength, indicating the SEALs had found it and were hauling it toward Michigan.

Sonar followed up, “Sonar, Conn. Sierra five-one is designated Russian nuclear-powered submarine. Analyzing for class. Also hold a new contact on the towed array, designated Sierra five-two, ambiguous bearings one-four-two and two-one-eight.”

Wilson stood as Lieutenant Bradley acknowledged. To the Officer of the Deck, Wilson ordered, “Man Battle Stations Torpedo silently.”

He’d normally have stationed only the Fire Control Tracking Party, but there was no telling how sensitive the torpedo development project was, nor the measures the Russians would take to prevent one of their new weapons from falling into American hands. The Officer of the Deck dispatched the Messenger of the Watch and LAN Technician to make the rounds through the Operations and Missile compartments, while the Chief of the Watch notified the Engine Room over a sound-powered phone circuit.

With one and possibly two Russian submarines in the area, Wilson would normally have maneuvered aggressively, attempting to keep sufficient distance between Michigan and the Russian submarines while determining each contact’s course, speed, and range. However, Wilson was currently handcuffed. Michigan was hovering at all stop, and could not maneuver until the SEAL SDV had been retrieved into its Dry Deck Shelter.

He entered the Battle Management Center behind the Control Room, stopping beside Commander McNeil. Wilson’s eyes went to one of the video screens, displaying the feed from a camera mounted to Michigan’s sail, looking aft over the two Dry Deck Shelters. The water was faintly illuminated by light filtering from the surface, and there was no indication of the approaching SDV.

“How much longer?” Wilson asked.

“Can’t say for sure,” McNeil replied. “But it shouldn’t be more than another minute or two.”

Not long thereafter, the SDV materialized from the murky water behind USS Michigan with the Russian torpedo in tow. The SDV approached the starboard shelter, gliding over the missile deck before coming to a halt above the rails extended from the shelter. The Russian torpedo clung to the SDV like a balloon, attached to the aft end of the mini-sub.

Slowly, the SDV sank until it rested on the rails. Two divers secured the SDV for retrieval into the starboard shelter, while two other divers and the two SEALs hauled the torpedo down and guided it toward the port DDS, which had more room since it contained two Rigid Hulled Inflatable Boats. The SDV and torpedo were placed inside the shelters, and the nine-foot-diameter hangar doors slowly closed, each one sealing with a faint clank.

“Command Post, Hydroacoustic. Mechanical transients, bearing zero-three-five, on the same bearing as the torpedo end-of-run pinger.” A moment later, Hydroacoustic followed up, “Loss of end-of-run pinger.”

Mikhailov’s features hardened. The torpedo had been hauled aboard a vessel, its end-of-run pinger shielded by the vessel’s hull. There were no surface ships in the area during Kazan’s last trip to periscope depth and Hydroacoustic hadn’t picked up a surface contact since then either. That meant the vessel was a submarine.

“Steersman, left full rudder, steady course zero-three-five, ahead full.”

Kazan’s attack on Alexander would have to wait.

“Battle Stations Torpedo is manned,” the Chief of the Watch reported as Wilson returned to the Control Room, “with the exception of the Conning Officer.”

Wilson rectified that issue. “This is the Captain. I have the Conn. Lieutenant Bradley retains the Deck.”

A glance at the nearest combat control console told Wilson what he needed to know. Both Russian submarines were to the south. Unfortunately, whether the two contacts were to the southeast or southwest was unknown, since Michigan had been at all stop, unable to maneuver to resolve the towed array’s bearing ambiguity. Making matters worse, Michigan was pointed south, toward the Russian submarines.

“Helm, ahead standard. Hard left rudder, steady course north.”

Without knowing which bearings were correct, deciding which way to turn was a fifty-fifty proposition. But now that Michigan was moving, Sonar would be able to resolve the matter.

As Michigan increased speed, swinging slowly to the north, Sonar reported, “Conn, Sonar. Gained Sierra five-one on the spherical array, bearing two-one-five.”

Bearing ambiguity had been resolved. Sierra five-one was to the southwest.

Wilson announced, “Designate Sierra five-one as Master one. Track Master one.”

Master one was to the southwest and Wilson had turned away. He’d guessed correctly. As Michigan steadied up on its new course to the north, a well-known Submarine Force adage flashed through his mind.

It’s better to be lucky than good.

Submarine combat wasn’t an exact science. Due to the uncertainty in target range, course, and speed resulting from prosecuting targets with passive sonar only, combat was guided by numerous estimates and hunches. No matter how skilled a submarine’s crew or superior its submarine and weapons were, a single turn in the wrong direction could spell disaster.

As Michigan steadied up at ahead standard, Wilson focused on the nearest combat control console, wondering whether either Russian submarine had detected Michigan before it completed its turn to the north. His Executive Officer’s announcement answered his question.

“Possible target zig, Master one, due to upshift in frequency.”

The Russian submarine had turned toward Michigan and likely increased speed as well. Michigan wasn’t as fast as Russian nuclear attack submarines, and with two Dry Deck Shelters attached to the missile deck, was a few knots slower than her official speed. Wilson couldn’t outrun the Russian submarine. He’d have to slip away. To do that, he needed to know what course the Russian submarine was on.

“Confirm target zig,” the Executive Officer announced. “Master one has turned to the northeast and increased speed.”

Wilson responded, “Helm, ahead full. Left ten degrees rudder. Steady course three-three-zero.”

The Helm complied and Michigan swung to the northwest, keeping Master one out of its baffles, so its approach could be monitored with both the spherical and towed arrays. Shortly after steadying on the new ordered course, however, Master one faded from the spherical array.

“Conn, Sonar. Loss of Master one on the spherical array.”

That was good news. Michigan was opening range. Wilson studied the combat control console displays, with his Executive Officer hovering behind them, evaluating the target solutions. All three consoles were converging on similar parameters. Master one was on course zero-three-five at twenty-five knots, eight thousand yards and opening. It looked like Master one had picked up a mechanical transient from Michigan, most likely due to closing the large Dry Deck Shelter doors. That the Russian submarine remained steady on course meant it hadn’t gained Michigan on its sensors.

With Michigan opening range now, it was unlikely the Russian submarine would detect them, unless the speedy attack submarine turned in a lucky direction and gained ground. Wilson decided to remain at ahead full, as ahead flank would put excessive propulsion-related noises into the water and give away Michigan’s presence. Six hours at ahead full should be sufficient, Wilson figured, then he could alter course toward the nearest NATO port to drop off the torpedo as directed, where it would be flown back to the U.S. for examination.

Kazan had been traveling at ahead full for an hour. The problem with mechanical transients was that you had no idea how far away the source was. It could be two thousand yards away or twenty thousand yards. Additionally, transients usually lasted for only a few seconds and you had to close the distance quickly, hoping to gain continuous contact on the spherical or towed arrays before the target slipped away. Unfortunately, Kazan was approaching the edge of its operating area and could proceed no farther, not that it would do much good if they could. It looked like the uninvited submarine, most likely American, had slipped away with one of Russia’s torpedoes.

Mikhail admitted defeat. He instructed his Communications Officer to draft an urgent message to Northern Fleet command with the details of today’s detections, then he turned his submarine around.

“Steersman, right twenty degrees rudder, steady course two-zero-zero.”

Time to return to the torpedo exercise. Alexander was waiting.