The Bin Laden Plot

20 USS MICHIGAN

“Conn, Sonar. Hold a new contact on the towed array, designated Sierra eight-five, ambiguous bearings three-one-five and zero-four-five. High-frequency tonal detection only. Analyzing.”

Lieutenant Brian Resor, on watch as the submarine’s Officer of the Deck, acknowledged Sonar’s report via the microphone mounted above the Conn.

“Sonar, Conn. Aye.”

Finally, something noteworthy to investigate.

They had been at it for days, scouring Michigan’s operating area for sign of the small and elusive UUV. It was like searching for a needle in a haystack. Sonar had identified hundreds of contacts, each subsequently classified as a merchant ship or other surface craft. This contact, however, seemed promising. Sonar had picked up Sierra eight-five only via high-frequency tonals, which traveled short distances compared to the lower frequency and broadband noise normally emitted by surface ships.

In concert with Resor’s thoughts, Sonar made the report he’d been hoping for.

“Conn, Sonar. Sierra eight-five is classified submerged. Tonals correlate to the target of interest.”

Resor acknowledged, then pulled the 27-MC microphone from its holder and pressed the button for the Captain’s stateroom. “Captain, Officer of the Deck. Hold a new submerged contact on the towed array. Tonals match the target of interest.”

Captain Wilson acknowledged and entered the Control Room a moment later. Stepping onto the Conn, he examined the contact frequencies on the display. Satisfied the contact was the UUV, he gave the order everyone aboard had been waiting for since they departed Bahrain.

“Man Battle Stations Torpedo.”

The Chief of the Watch, stationed at the Ballast Control Panel on the port side of Control, twisted a lever on his panel, and the gong, gong, gong of the submarine’s General Emergency alarm reverberated throughout the ship. As the alarm faded, the Chief of the Watch picked up his 1-MC microphone, repeating the Captain’s order over the shipwide announcing system.

Crew members streamed into Control, taking their seats at dormant consoles, bringing them to life as they donned sound-powered phone headsets. Sonar technicians passed through Control on their way to the Sonar Room while supervisors gathered behind their respective stations and other personnel throughout the ship reported to their battle stations.

Three minutes after the order, the Chief of the Watch reported, “Officer of the Deck, Battle Stations are manned.”

Resor acknowledged and passed the report to Wilson, who announced, “This is the Captain. I have the Conn. Lieutenant Resor retains the Deck.”

Wilson would manage the tactical situation and control the submarine’s movements, while Resor monitored the navigation picture and handled routine ship evolutions.

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

The process from this point was straightforward: develop a firing solution for the target, proceed to Firing Point Procedures, and shoot. What was not entirely straightforward was what the UUV would do in response or even before Wilson sent their torpedo on its way.

The UUV clearly had the ability to track and identify targets of interest, and a submarine in its waterspace would definitely meet that criterion unless it was informed a friendly unit was passing through. Based on what happened to Stethem, that safety feature could not be relied upon. If the UUV detected Michigan, it could easily attack it.

Wilson assumed the UUV would attack Michigan at some point, either before or after Wilson launched a torpedo. Regarding that endeavor, the first step was to determine which of the towed array bearings was the real contact and which was the false one.

Michigan’s towed array detected 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 of the submarine the sound arrived from, resulting in two potential bearings to the contact — one on each side of the array. The way to resolve that question was to maneuver and evaluate what happened to the contacts on each side of the array. The correct bearing would remain relatively constant, while the false bearing would shift to a wildly different bearing to maintain the same relative position on the other side of the array.

“Helm, left twenty degrees rudder. Steady course two-seven-zero.”

After completing the ninety-degree turn, Wilson waited for the towed array to stabilize, its snaking motion gradually dissipating. After a few minutes, the array straightened out and Sonar made the awaited report.

“Conn, Sonar. Bearing ambiguity has been resolved. Master one is to the northwest.”

Lieutenant Commander Tom Montgomery, the submarine’s Executive Officer and in charge of the Fire Control Tracking Party, announced, “Set maximum speed to five knots.”

Although the UUV was capable of high-speed, short-duration bursts, it normally traveled at very low speed to extend the time between battery recharges. According to the specifications provided by Secretary Verbeck, the UUV normally transited at three to five knots, depending on the ocean current — just enough to maintain steerageway.

Montgomery stopped briefly behind each of the combat control consoles, examining the target solution on each one, eventually tapping one of the fire control technicians, who pressed a button on his console, sending an updated target solution to the torpedo.

Montgomery announced, “I have a firing solution.”

Wilson called out, “Firing Point Procedures, Master one, tube One.”

Lieutenant Ryan Jescovitch, Michigan’s Weapons Officer, acknowledged Wilson’s order and relayed it to the fire control technician at the Weapon Launch Console, who sent the engagement presets to the torpedo.

Montgomery stopped briefly behind each of the combat control consoles, examining the target solution on each one, verifying that the best target solution had been promoted to Master.

“Solution ready!” he announced.

“Weapon ready!” Jescovitch called out, verifying that the torpedo presets matched those in combat control and that the target’s solution — its course, speed, and range — had been sent to the torpedo in tube One.

“Ship ready!” Resor reported, ensuring the counterfire corridor from the UUV had been identified and that Michigan’s torpedo countermeasures were ready to deploy.

Wilson was about to order the torpedo launch when a report from Sonar came across the Control Room speakers.

“Conn, Sonar. Hold a new contact on the towed array, designated Sierra eight-six, ambiguous bearings three-five-five and one-eight-five, classified submerged. Analyzing.”

Wilson examined the sonar display on the Conn. The new contact was moving much faster than the UUV. If it was submerged, it was likely a submarine. But Michigan was the only U.S. submarine in this waterspace, which meant they had detected a foreign submarine. Firing a torpedo in this situation was perilous since the torpedo could lock on to the submarine instead of the UUV.

The issue was — modern torpedoes were artificially intelligent weapons, which had pros and cons. After launch, they would analyze the returns from the sonar in their noses, sorting through what could be a submarine or surface ship, or a decoy. Reassuring in its capability, the torpedo’s independent nature was also disconcerting. It could not distinguish between friend and foe, and there was always the possibility that the torpedo, while searching for its intended target, could lock on to the wrong one, or even the submarine that fired it.

There were safeguards to prevent that, plus a guidance wire attached to the torpedoes fired by U.S. submarines. Over the thin copper wire, the submarine’s crew could send new commands after the torpedo was launched, changing its course, depth, or other search parameters. But if the guidance wire broke, the torpedo would be on its own, deciding which target to attack.

Additionally, a torpedo launched in another submarine’s vicinity would almost assuredly prompt a counterfire, which was something Wilson wanted to avoid. That was two strikes — Michigan’s torpedo might sink the wrong target, and the foreign submarine, target or not, would likely counterfire. Wilson didn’t need a third strike to make his decision.

“Check Fire,” Wilson announced, canceling the firing order. “Designate Sierra eight-six as Master two. Track Master one and Master two.”

Inside the Sonar Room, the sonar technicians were starting to sort things out. Based on the tonal frequencies and strength, along with the lack of a broadband trace, they had already determined the new contact was submerged.

Sonar Chief Jim Moore tapped the Narrowband Operator seated before him, Petty Officer Andrew Bubb, on the shoulder. “I need a classification.”

Moore had lots of experience tracking foreign submarines, in both shore-based trainers and at sea, but the frequencies weren’t making sense; they didn’t match anything they expected to see in the Persian Gulf.

Bubb completed his analysis and looked up from his display, a confused expression on his face. “The closest match I’ve got is a Seawolf class.”

“That can’t be right,” Moore replied. “Seawolfs are U.S. submarines, and Michigan is the only American submarine authorized in this waterspace.”

“I know,” Bubb said. “But look.” He gestured toward his display. “A few of the frequencies are off, but the propulsion-related tonals are definitely Seawolf.”

Moore leaned forward, examining the frequencies over Bubb’s shoulder. He was right. Even without the automated classification algorithm flashing on the screen — SEAWOLF — Moore would have made the same call.

He relayed the information to the Sonar Coordinator beside him, who announced Master two’s classification over the sound-powered phones.

In the Control Room, Lieutenant Commander Montgomery, who was examining a display over a fire control technician’s shoulder, suddenly stood erect, a perplexed look on his face as he turned to Wilson.

“Sonar reports Master two is classified Seawolf.”

“That can’t be right,” Wilson replied.

After Montgomery verified the report had been correctly understood, Wilson went to the Sonar shack. He opened the door and poked his head in.

“What the hell is going on in here? A Seawolf can’t possibly be in our waterspace.”

“I know, Captain,” Moore replied with an exasperated look on his face. “But that’s what the tonals indicate. Whatever’s out there has definitely got a Seawolf propulsion system.”

Wilson considered the information for a minute, then returned to the Conn. As he evaluated the best path forward, a report by his Executive Officer caught him by surprise.

“Captain, the solutions for Master one and Master two are converging.”

Wilson stepped from the Conn, stopping behind one of the combat control consoles, which displayed the solutions for both contacts. Master two had slowed to a few knots faster than the UUV, and the contacts were angling toward each other. A moment later, the two contacts steadied up on the same course, with Master two closing slowly from behind until both contacts blended into a single trace on the display.

“Conn, Sonar. Detecting mechanical transients on a bearing to Masters one and two. Sounds similar to torpedo outer doors opening.”

Wilson considered whether the sounds were the precursor to a torpedo launch. Given that the submarine had slowed to five knots, it was unlikely it was preparing to fire; submarine crews typically prosecuted contacts at medium speed, maneuvering quickly to help their tracking algorithms develop a target solution and to enable rapid acceleration to ahead flank if the target counterfired.

There was no indication that either contact had detected them, and given that their tracks overlaid upon each other, Wilson drew the most logical conclusion. Master two was a mother ship retrieving the UUV, opening doors in its hull to do so.

However, Secretary Verbeck hadn’t mentioned anything about a mother ship. The UUV was supposedly completely independent, recharging itself via solar panels while languishing near the surface. Now that Wilson thought about it, something had to launch the UUV and retrieve it for periodic maintenance. Perhaps Verbeck had simply failed to mention those additional details. But if a mother ship could retrieve the defective UUV, why not just order it to do so and keep the UUV aboard, solving the renegade UUV problem?

Other things weren’t adding up either. If Master two was a mother ship, why did it have Seawolf tonals? As far as he knew, Seawolf submarines didn’t have the necessary modifications to launch and retrieve UUVs of this size.

These were critical questions that needed answers. A discussion with Secretary Verbeck and her aide would be required.

“Attention in Control,” he announced. When everyone focused on him, he continued. “Master two has been classified as a Seawolf. We’re supposed to be the only U.S. submarine in this waterspace, but this wouldn’t be the first time two submarines have been routed through the same water. Master two also appears to be a mother ship for the UUV, which doesn’t correlate to known Seawolf capabilities. Whatever Master two is, we’re not authorized to sink it, since our mission is to destroy the UUV only. We’re going to break off from this engagement and figure out what’s going on.

“Secure from Battle Stations Torpedo.”

After the announcement went out, Wilson ordered Lieutenant Resor to station the Section Tracking Party, keeping tabs on the UUV and its mother ship.

As the crew transitioned to its normal watch stations, Wilson directed his Communicator, “Prepare for a secure VTC with the secretary of the Navy. I’ll take it in my stateroom.”

After the Communicator acknowledged, Wilson turned to the Officer of the Deck.

“Make preparations to come to periscope depth.”