Power Play

CHAPTER 2 THE BARENTS SEA

Ten miles north of Kildin Island, just off the coast of Russia’s Kola Peninsula, USS Pittsburgh cruised westward at periscope depth. Lieutenant Mike Williams, on watch as the Officer of the Deck, rotated the port periscope slowly, his right eye pressed against the eyepiece. As the scope optics swung to the south, Williams shifted the periscope to high power for a detailed scan of Kola Bay — the exit point for Russian warships stationed in ports along the shores of the Murmansk Fjord. He paused at the fjord entrance and pressed the doubler, increasing the periscope magnification to maximum.

Still nothing.

Williams released the doubler and shifted back to low power, continuing his clockwise revolution. In another thirty minutes, he’d be relieved by the next Officer of the Deck, who would have the pleasure of walking in circles for the next six hours. Although he looked forward to the end of his watch, he was disappointed. He’d hoped to be the one to spot Russia’s newest nuclear attack submarine, K-561 Kazan, entering the Barents Sea.

This morning’s intelligence message had reported Kazan would likely head to sea today. Reconnaissance satellites had monitored Kazan’s crew loading supplies and torpedoes. Shore power had been disconnected; the submarine’s reactor had been brought on-line in preparation for getting underway. Where Kazan was headed was what COMSUBLANT wanted to know, and USS Pittsburgh had been tasked to find out.

Pittsburgh’s operational order had been concise: gain trail on Kazan as she emerged from Kola Bay and follow her until she exited the Barents Sea. There were a few options as to where Kazan was headed, with the leading contenders being west toward the GIUK gap for an Atlantic Ocean or Mediterranean Sea deployment, north under the ice for transfer to Russia’s Pacific Fleet, or into a local operating area for training. Anywhere was fine with Williams, as long as there was something to trail. They’d been on station for two weeks thus far with nothing to show for it.

Williams’s thoughts were interrupted by the Sonar Supervisor’s report over the Conn speaker. “Conn, Sonar. Hold a new contact on the towed array, designated Sierra two-one, ambiguous bearings two-one-zero and zero-three-zero. Analyzing.”

Pittsburgh’s towed array was a valuable asset, detecting contacts at longer ranges than the submarine’s other acoustic sensors. However, the array was an assembly of hydrophones connected in a straight line, which meant it could not determine which side the sound arrived from, resulting in two potential bearings to the contact — one on each side of the array.

Williams acknowledged Sonar’s report and rotated the periscope to a bearing of zero-three-zero, shifting to high power and activating the doubler. There were no contacts. He swung to the south. As he examined Kola Bay, he spotted a small speck on the horizon. He called to the Electronic Support Measures watch. “ESM, Conn. Report all radar contacts to the south.”

“Conn, ESM. I hold no contacts to the south.”

Williams selected the Captain’s stateroom on the 27-MC control box, then with his eye still against the periscope, retrieved the microphone from its holder.

“Captain, Officer of the Deck.”

A few seconds later, John Buglione answered. “Captain.”

“Captain, Officer of the Deck. Hold a new surface contact visually and on the towed array, designated Sierra two-one, bearing two-one-zero, classification unknown. Contact is exiting Kola Bay with no radar signature.”

“Very well,” Buglione replied. “I’ll be right there.”

Buglione entered the Control Room a moment later, his arrival announced by the Quartermaster. “Captain in Control.”

He stepped onto the Conn — a one-foot-high platform surrounding the two periscopes — and stopped behind Lieutenant Williams. “Let me take a look.”

Williams swung the periscope back to a bearing of two-one-zero, then stepped away. Buglione took his place, quickly adjusting the periscope optics to his setting. The contact was still too distant to classify visually. Fortunately, Sonar had begun to sort things out.

“Conn, Sonar. Sierra two-one is classified as a nuclear-powered submarine. Still analyzing.”

A Russian submarine was outbound, most likely K-561 Kazan, Buglione surmised. The sonar technicians were comparing the contact’s frequencies to those in Sonar’s database to determine the submarine class, and it didn’t take long to confirm Buglione’s suspicion.

“Conn, Sonar. Sierra two-one is classified as Yasen class.”

Kazan was the second Yasen class and the only one currently in service, with the lead submarine in the class—Severodvinsk—having been sunk under the polar ice cap beneath Ice Station Nautilus a few months ago.

Shortly after Sonar’s report, Buglione spotted plumes of water spray jetting into the air from Kazan’s bow and stern. The Russian submarine was submerging, venting the air in its main ballast tanks. Buglione stepped back, returning the periscope to Williams.

Buglione ordered, “Come down to one-five-zero feet and increase speed to ahead two-thirds. Station the Fire Control Tracking Party.”

Three minutes later, Pittsburgh was at 150 feet and ten knots, the periscope lowered. Sonar and the Control Room were fully manned, with supervisors standing behind the men at their workstations. The submarine’s Navigator, Lieutenant Bob Cibelli, had relieved Williams as Officer of the Deck, and Williams now occupied a combat control console on the starboard side, one of three workstations configured to determine the contact’s solution — its course, speed, and range.

Buglione announced, “This is the Captain. I have the Conn. Lieutenant Cibelli retains the Deck.” Buglione would now issue all tactical orders, while Cibelli managed the ship’s routine evolutions and monitored the navigation picture, ensuring Pittsburgh stayed clear of dangerous shoals. Buglione added, “Designate Sierra two-one as Master one. Track Master one.”

Moments later, Buglione’s Executive Officer, Lieutenant Commander Rick Schwartz, head of the Fire Control Tracking Party, announced, “Possible target zig due to downshift in frequency.”

Sonar was monitoring Kazan’s tonals and had noted decreasing frequencies. Like listening to an approaching train, the pitch of the train’s horn was higher as it approached, falling off after it passed. This was due to the Doppler effect, with the sound waves compressing if the source was approaching, or expanding if it was moving away. The subtle change in frequency was detectable by the submarine’s sensors, and that change provided valuable information.

Lieutenant Commander Schwartz stopped behind one of the combat control consoles and evaluated the frequency change, along with Kazan’s new bearing rate.

Schwartz announced, “Confirm target zig. Master one has turned to the northwest.”

Now that Kazan had submerged, its captain had changed course, hoping to slip by any NATO submarines lurking in the Barents. Buglione stopped behind Williams and examined the geographic plot on the upper display of his dual-screen workstation. It contained a map of the southern Barents Sea, with Pittsburgh in the center and Kola Bay to the south. To the northwest was Rybachy Peninsula. The Russian captain would likely hug the coastline until he reached Kazan’s assigned underwater transit lane, which would take his submarine toward its destination.

Pittsburgh would be close behind.

“Helm, right ten degrees rudder, steady course three-zero-zero.”

Under normal circumstances, Buglione would have maneuvered Pittsburgh in behind Kazan, trailing the Russian submarine in its baffles — a vulnerable area behind a submarine where the spherical array, mounted in the bow, couldn’t hear contacts due to sound being blocked by the hull. However, Kazan was a quiet submarine, held only on Pittsburgh’s towed array. Kazan was in shallow water, which Pittsburgh couldn’t enter, or its towed array, which drooped below the submarine’s keel, would drag on the bottom and be damaged. That meant Pittsburgh would stay farther out to sea on Kazan’s starboard stern.

The Helm complied and Pittsburgh swung to the northwest, angling in toward Kazan, while the Fire Control Tracking Party determined Master one’s course, speed, and range. Schwartz studied the geographic plot on the nearest console. After examining the distance to the shoals surrounding Rybachy Peninsula, Schwartz announced, “Maximum range to Master one is six thousand yards.”

It didn’t take long for the two fire control technicians and Lieutenant Williams to converge on similar solutions. Schwartz examined the three consoles, then tapped one of the fire control technicians on the shoulder. “Promote to Master.”

Satisfied that Pittsburgh had reached the optimum position behind Kazan, with the water becoming shallow, Buglione turned toward the northwest, paralleling Kazan’s track. “Helm, right ten degrees rudder, steady course three-three-zero.”

Now that Pittsburgh was properly positioned, with Kazan’s crew hopefully oblivious to the American submarine shadowing it, Buglione settled into the Captain’s chair on the Conn, waiting for Kazan’s next move.

Two hours later, Kazan altered course. One of the fire control technicians announced, “Possible target zig due to upshift in frequency.”

Lieutenant Commander Schwartz evaluated the various displays, then announced, “Confirm target zig, Master one. Contact has turned to the north. Set solution range at four thousand yards.”

Buglione kept Pittsburgh on its northwesterly course until they were behind Kazan, then turned north to follow. Kazan continued north at ten knots for just over an hour, when she turned to the east. But what caught Buglione’s attention wasn’t the ninety-degree course change — it was Sonar’s report over the Control Room speaker.

“Conn, Sonar. Receiving mechanical transients from Master one. Consistent with torpedo tube muzzle doors opening.”

The report took Buglione by surprise. Why would Kazan’s crew open its torpedo tube doors? Then he realized Kazan hadn’t been to sea for several weeks and its crew was most likely exercising their torpedo tubes for routine maintenance — American crews fired water slugs once a week to verify tube operability.

Just in case, Buglione brought his submarine to full manning. “Officer of the Deck,” he ordered, “man battle stations silently.”

This close to Kazan, Buglione didn’t want to activate the General Alarm — the loud bong, bong, bong used to awaken and alert the crew to a battle stations order or emergency. The sound traveled through the steel hull into the water, and at only a few thousand yards away, might be detected by Kazan’s sonar.

The Messenger and LAN Technician hurried through berthing and the other submarine spaces, alerting the crew. The Control Room and Sonar were already at full manning due to the Fire Control Tracking Party being stationed, and the rest of the crew streamed into the Torpedo Room and other spaces in preparation for combat. Buglione turned his attention to his weapons load. Tubes One and Two were loaded with MK 48 MOD 7 warshots, the most advanced heavyweight torpedo in the U.S. arsenal.

“Weps, power up tubes One and Two.”

The Weapons Officer relayed the order to a fire control technician manning the Weapons Launch Console, who applied power to both torpedoes. Buglione contemplated loading tubes Three and Four, but reloads were sometimes noisy, plus at this range, Pittsburgh would need only one torpedo.

Now that precautions had been taken for Kazan opening its torpedo muzzle doors — for what was almost assuredly routine operability checks — Buglione focused on the geographic situation. Due to Kazan’s turn to the east, Pittsburgh was now on the Russian submarine’s starboard beam, headed north. Buglione decided to maintain course. As Kazan moved eastward, Pittsburgh would slowly drive into Kazan’s baffles again, then turn to follow.

Buglione waited patiently while Pittsburgh moved in behind the Russian submarine again. But Sonar’s next announcement changed everything.

“Conn, Sonar. Torpedo launch transients from Master one!”

Buglione’s thoughts went in several directions at once. Under normal combat conditions, the response was clear: evade the incoming torpedo and counterfire. But Kazan couldn’t possibly be firing at Pittsburgh. There was no indication Pittsburgh had been detected, aside from the sudden maneuver to the east, plus the United States and Russia weren’t at war — and counterfiring might start one. If Buglione and his crew misinterpreted the sounds and sank the Russian submarine when it intended no harm, there’d be hell to pay. But if Kazan had really launched a warshot torpedo and Pittsburgh didn’t evade…

He needed more data, but couldn’t delay. “Helm, hard left rudder, steady course two-seven-zero. Ahead full.”

Buglione would normally have ordered ahead flank, but the submarine’s screw would have cavitated at maximum propulsion, spinning so fast in the shallow water that it’d serve as a sound beacon, giving away Pittsburgh’s presence. Buglione was still hopeful they’d somehow misinterpreted things, so he’d ordered ahead full, hoping to move out of the torpedo’s path without giving Pittsburgh’s presence away. In about thirty seconds, he’d know where the torpedo was headed and could increase speed to maximum if required. In the meantime, he prepared to counterfire.

“Firing Point Procedures, Master one, normal submerged presets. Tube One is primary, tube Two is secondary.”

As Pittsburgh swung to the west and increased speed, Buglione focused on the bearings to the incoming torpedo. They were drawing slightly aft, which told him the torpedo wasn’t aimed directly at Pittsburgh. But modern torpedoes weren’t like the World War II straight runners, which had to be aimed perfectly to get a hit. Today’s torpedoes were artificially intelligent, with their sonar and search algorithms turning on at a predetermined point. It would then scour the surrounding water to find its target, then adjust course and increase speed, closing on its prey until it was close enough to detonate.

Buglione’s crew prepared to counterfire, delivering the expected reports:

“Solution ready!” the Executive Officer announced, informing Buglione that a satisfactory target solution had been calculated and that the parameters — course, speed, and range — had been sent to the two torpedoes.

“Weapons ready!” the Weapons Officer reported. The torpedoes had accepted the target solution and search presets.

“Ship ready!” Lieutenant Cibelli announced, indicating the torpedo countermeasures were armed and ready to launch.

Pittsburgh steadied on its evasion course and speed. There had been no additional torpedo launches by Kazan, so Buglione focused on the single incoming torpedo. It was still drawing aft and would approach acquisition range — the distance at which its sonar could detect Pittsburgh—at any moment. As Buglione contemplated pulling the trigger, firing a warshot torpedo at Kazan, Sonar interrupted his thoughts.

“Conn, Sonar. Hold a new contact on the towed array, designated Sierra two-two, ambiguous bearings one-seven-zero and three-five-zero.” A moment later, Sonar followed up, “Conn, Sonar. Sierra two-two is classified submerged.”

Buglione examined the sonar display on the Conn. There was a second Russian submarine in the area, to the south of Pittsburgh, with Kazan to the north. Pittsburgh was bracketed. He shifted his attention to the torpedo bearings. They continued drawing aft, giving no indication the torpedo had detected Pittsburgh. The torpedo was headed south, toward — the second Russian submarine.

Then everything clicked. Pittsburgh had unwittingly stumbled into the middle of a Russian TORPEX — torpedo exercise — and Kazan was firing an exercise torpedo at its adversary to the south.

“Helm, ahead two-thirds. Right ten degrees rudder, steady course zero-three-zero.”

With the torpedo drawing aft, away from his submarine, Buglione slowed down and turned toward Kazan, attempting to slip into her baffles again.

As Buglione worked his way behind Kazan, he realized they’d stumbled into a gold mine. His eyes canvassed the Control Room displays — the Sonar and Combat Control Systems were recording every facet of the Russian torpedo exercise. Once the details were transmitted to the Office of Naval Intelligence, experts would analyze every aspect of the exercise: Russian submarine engagement tactics and torpedo characteristics — speed, sonar frequencies, and homing technique.

Buglione focused on the submarine Kazan had fired at. It remained steady on course and speed, giving no indication it had detected the incoming torpedo. Sonar reported the torpedo had acquired its target and was homing — increasing speed and the frequency of its pings — calculating a more accurate intercept solution. But the target Russian submarine still did not evade.

He considered the unusual situation. Maybe the target was an older submarine with an antiquated sonar suite, and the crew hadn’t detected the incoming torpedo.

“Conn, Sonar. Mechanical transient from Sierra two-two. Consistent with weapon impact.”

Buglione scratched his head. What the hell… Not only did the Russian submarine not evade, but the exercise torpedo hadn’t turned away once it had closed to a range which would guarantee a hit. American and Russian exercise torpedoes had safety features built in so they didn’t smash into their targets. No need to waste a three-million-dollar weapon each time — they floated to the surface after each run and were then refurbished.

Even more important, the safety features existed to prevent the torpedo from damaging the target submarine. While a broadside hit wasn’t a concern, a torpedo closing from astern could get sucked into the screw or propulsor, causing tens of millions of dollars in damage to the precision-machined blades, requiring a complete screw or propulsor replacement.

The Executive Officer announced, “Possible target zig, Master one and Sierra two-two due to change in bearing rate.”

A moment later, he confirmed the zigs, reporting that both contacts had turned to the south, toward Kola Bay. It looked like they were headed home. Another surprise, calling it a day after a single torpedo firing.

Buglione maneuvered Pittsburgh into Kazan’s baffles again, then returned to his chair on the Conn. He tried to make sense of today’s bizarre exercise. Only one torpedo had been fired, the target submarine hadn’t evaded, and the torpedo had smashed into the target. Zero-for-three when it came to typical TORPEXs.

And where in the hell did that second submarine come from? The intelligence summary received this morning listed no other Russian submarines in the Barents Sea or making preparations to get underway.

Buglione called out to the open microphone in the overhead. “Sonar, Conn. Have you classified Sierra two-two?”

“Conn, Sonar. Negative. It doesn’t match anything in the database. If we had to make a call, we’d say it’s a Yasen class, but it’s got several tonals never observed from either Severodvinsk or Kazan.”

Buglione acknowledged Sonar, then his thoughts returned to the unusual Russian exercise. He had questions, but no answers. Maybe the analysts back home would figure things out, poring over the data once Pittsburgh transmitted its message with the TORPEX details.