The Bin Laden Plot

28 USS MICHIGAN

Lieutenant Karen Bass leaned over the navigation table in the Control Room, studying Michigan’s operating area outlined on the electronic chart, deciding where to search next. They were approaching shallow water and needed to turn either north or south. Inside the Sonar Room, the sonar technicians were likewise studying their displays, searching for a sign of either the UUV or the mother ship that had retrieved it two days ago.

Captain Wilson’s trip to periscope depth for a videocon with the secretary of the Navy had been swift, but the mother ship and its UUV, operating beneath the thermocline, had vanished by the time Michigan’s acoustic sensors had dipped below the layer of warm water. They had spent the last two days scouring the surrounding area, focused primarily on the mother ship, since it emitted significantly louder tonals than the UUV. When they detected either contact, Michigan’s crew would be ready.

Torpedoes were loaded in all four tubes, with the outer doors open. Wilson had decided to keep Michigan in a ready-to-shoot posture, avoiding the noise transients caused by opening the torpedo tube muzzle and outer hull doors. The first sound the UUV or mother ship could detect would be the launch itself and not the torpedo doors opening.

“Conn, Sonar.” The Sonar Supervisor’s voice came across the Conn speakers. “Hold a new contact on the towed array, designated Sierra three-four, ambiguous bearings two-four-two and two-nine-eight. Analyzing.”

Bass glanced at the navigation display. Whatever they had detected was behind them, in either the port or starboard quarter. That was okay for the moment. She would keep Michigan steady on course until the contact’s bearing rate had been determined, which would feed the necessary information to the algorithms in the submarine’s combat control system.

A few minutes later, after sufficient data had been accumulated, Bass decided to turn south, to a course that put both bearings on the starboard side. The maneuver would resolve which of the two bearings was the real one and which was the false, mirror image.

“Helm, right twenty degrees rudder, steady course one-eight-zero.”

The former ballistic missile submarine, almost two football fields long, turned slowly to the south.

The Helmsman steadied the submarine on its new course, and the towed array eventually stopped snaking back and forth behind them, stretching back out into a straight line.

“Conn, Sonar. Bearing ambiguity has been resolved. Sierra three-four bears three-zero-one.”

Bass analyzed the new information. The bearing to the contact had shifted only slightly during the maneuver, indicating the contact was on a narrow aspect course — pointed almost directly toward Michigan. She checked the tentative solution on the active combat control console; the fire control technician had come to the same conclusion.

Sonar’s next report came over the speakers. “Conn, Sonar. Sierra three-four is classified submerged, with Seawolf tonals.”

Stepping onto the Conn, Lieutenant Bass acknowledged the report and selected the Captain’s stateroom on the 27-MC control box, then pulled the microphone from its holder.

“Captain, Officer of the Deck.”

The submarine’s Commanding Officer answered. “Captain.”

“Sir, hold a new submerged contact with Seawolf tonals on the towed array, designated Sierra three-four, bearing three-zero-one.”

Wilson arrived in Control a moment later and stepped onto the Conn, stopping beside Bass. After examining the sonar display, he turned to his Officer of the Deck.

“Man Battle Stations Torpedo silently.”

Without adequate intelligence on the acoustic capabilities of the mother submarine, Wilson had decided it was wise to man battle stations silently, without sounding Michigan’s general alarm. Depending on how close the contact was, which was currently unknown, and its acoustic-detection capabilities, it might be able to detect the loud gong, gong, gong reverberating through Michigan’s hull into the water.

Personnel streamed into Control, energizing dormant consoles. The Executive Officer, Lieutenant Commander Tom Montgomery, arrived, as did Lieutenant Ryan Jescovitch, the submarine’s Weapons Officer. Lieutenant Brian Resor entered Control, relieving Bass as the battle stations Officer of the Deck, and Bass then manned the third combat control console, joining the two fire control technicians focused on developing the target solution — its estimated course, speed, and range.

“Attention in Control,” Wilson announced. “Sierra three-four appears to be a regain of the automated mother submarine. Classify Sierra three-four as Master one. Track Master one.”

Montgomery hovered behind the three combat control consoles, monitoring the two fire control technicians and Lieutenant Bass as they refined their solutions to Master one. The contact maintained a steady course and speed, apparently oblivious to the impending danger, which simplified the evaluation.

It didn’t take long for Montgomery to announce, “I have a firing solution.”

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

With the target on Michigan’s starboard side, Wilson had decided to shoot from a port-side tube, using the submarine’s hull to partially mask the launch transient.

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

“Solution ready!” Montgomery reported.

“Weapon ready!” Jescovitch called out.

“Ship ready!” Resor announced.

“Shoot on generated bearings!” Wilson ordered.

The firing signal was sent to the Torpedo Room, initiating the launch sequence for the torpedo in tube Two. Wilson listened to the whirr of the submarine’s torpedo ejection pump and the characteristic sound of the four-thousand-pound weapon being ejected from the torpedo tube, accelerating from rest to thirty knots in less than a second.

Inside the Sonar Room, Petty Officer Andrew Bubb and the other sonar technicians monitored their outgoing unit while searching for any indication the mother ship had either been alerted to the incoming torpedo or counterfired. Sonar referred to their torpedo as own ship’s unit so their reports wouldn’t be confused with information about an incoming torpedo.

“Own ship’s unit is in the water, running normally.

“Fuel crossover achieved.

“Steady on preset gyro course, medium speed.”

Wilson’s eyes shifted to the Weapon Launch Console, depicting their torpedo as a green inverted V heading toward a red semicircle representing Master one, which remained steady on course and speed, giving no indication it had detected the incoming torpedo.

Once Michigan’s torpedo went active, however, the situation changed dramatically.

“Conn, Sonar. Burst of cavitation from Master one — increasing speed. Down doppler on target — she’s turning away, commencing torpedo evasion. Ejecting countermeasures.”

The mother ship had detected the incoming torpedo and commenced a standard torpedo evasion. However, if Michigan’s target solution for Master one was accurate enough, the mother ship wouldn’t get away.

Wilson watched as the bearing to their torpedo began to merge with Master one’s.

“Detect!” Jescovitch called out.

A few seconds later, he followed up. “Homing! Increasing speed.”

Their torpedo had detected a potential target, then after verifying the detection met the required parameters, had classified it as a valid target and was now homing to detonation.

“Conn, Sonar. Multiple transients from Master one. Several contacts appearing on the same bearing. Whatever they are, they’re moving fast!”

Wilson examined the sonar display on the Conn. Two new traces had appeared. But they weren’t headed toward Michigan.

Sonar confirmed Wilson’s assessment. “Contacts are heading toward own-ship’s unit.”

Wilson suddenly realized what they were: small, anti-torpedo torpedoes.

Navies throughout the world had been developing anti-torpedo torpedoes, the undersea version of missile defense, designed to destroy incoming torpedoes instead of missiles. The German Navy had developed the SeaSpider interceptor torpedo, while the Russians had fielded the Paket-NK, a dual-use torpedo that could be fired against submarines and incoming torpedoes. Turkish defense contractor Aselsan had even explored the concept, successfully developing the Tork hard-kill torpedo.

The U.S. Navy had developed their own anti-torpedo torpedo, deployed aboard several aircraft carriers. But the system had been plagued with false detections and eventually removed from service. To Wilson’s knowledge, anti-torpedo torpedoes hadn’t been deployed aboard U.S. submarines — until now. It seemed that the mother ship was a test bed for new technology of various types.

The two new objects launched by the mother ship swiftly closed on Michigan’s torpedo. When the range between them decreased to zero, a faint explosion echoed through the submarine’s hull.

“Loss of wire, tube Two,” Jescovitch reported.

The torpedo they had fired from tube Two was no longer communicating with Michigan. The reason was obvious. It had been destroyed by one of the mother ship’s defensive torpedoes.

Before Wilson had a chance to react, Sonar called out, “Torpedo launch transient, bearing three-zero-five!” Seconds later, a report blared from the speakers, “Torpedo in the water! Bearing three-zero-five!”

A red line appeared on the geographic display on the Conn.

“Ahead flank!” Wilson ordered, accelerating Michigan to maximum speed. He then evaluated what course to turn his ship to.

The incoming torpedo was approaching from the starboard quarter, which meant Michigan was already on an optimal evasion course. Wilson monitored the bearings to the torpedo, which drew steadily aft, indicating the torpedo would pass well behind them.

Michigan was safe.

Things changed, however, upon the next announcement.

“Second torpedo in the water, bearing three-one-zero!”

A purple line appeared on the Control Room displays, representing the new torpedo.

The new bearings remained steady, indicating the torpedo was traveling on a corrected intercept course, which took into account Michigan’s course and speed.

After evaluating both torpedoes, Wilson turned to a course that would prevent either weapon from gaining contact. There was a narrow window that would let one torpedo pass by on Michigan’s port side and the other on starboard.

“Helm, left ten degrees rudder, steady course one-five-zero.” To the Officer of the Deck, Wilson ordered, “Launch countermeasures!”

Michigan ejected a torpedo decoy and broadband jammer, then completed its turn to the ordered evasion course. One torpedo began drawing aft and the other forward, exactly as Wilson had hoped. As best he could tell, each torpedo would remain outside of its target acquisition range, oblivious to the submarine between them.

With Michigan on a good evasion course, Wilson’s attention shifted to putting a second torpedo in the water against their adversary, the surprisingly capable mother ship. Sonar’s next report, however, threw a wrench into that plan.

“Conn, Sonar. Loss of Master one.”

Michigan was traveling at maximum speed, and the rush of water past the submarine’s acoustic sensors blunted their detection range. Michigan’s crew no longer held Master one. That meant Wilson would be shooting in the dark to some extent, using their last estimated target solution. If the mother ship maneuvered, Wilson’s crew would have no way of knowing.

Ultimately, what mattered most was putting another torpedo into the water, something for the mother ship to worry about and hopefully distract it from further attacks. Wilson was about to order Firing Point Procedures when Sonar’s report demanded his full attention.

“Conn, Sonar. Up doppler on first torpedo!”

The first torpedo had turned toward Michigan.

“Conn, Sonar. Up doppler on second torpedo!”

The second torpedo had also turned toward them.

It appeared that the mother ship still held Michigan on its sensors and had calculated its new course, sending steer commands to both torpedoes. The weapons were now closing in from each side in a rapidly constricting choke hold.

Wilson realized they were in a serious predicament. Both torpedoes were closing fast, and he couldn’t outrun them. They were MK 48 heavyweight versions, carrying much more fuel than lightweight torpedoes. He also couldn’t turn away, as either a left or right maneuver would turn into the path of one of the torpedoes.

Sonar announced, “Torpedo to starboard is range-gating. Torpedo is homing!”

One of the mother ship’s torpedoes had detected Michigan and verified it was a valid target, increasing the frequency of its sonar pings. It was now refining its target solution, adjusting its course and increasing speed as it closed the remaining distance.

“Conn, Sonar. Second torpedo is range-gating!”

The second torpedo was also homing.

“Eject countermeasures!” Wilson ordered.

Lieutenant Resor ejected a torpedo decoy, which would hopefully distract both torpedoes, plus a broadband jammer, which would mask Michigan’s sonar signature as it sped away. White scalloped icons appeared on the Control Room displays.

Wilson watched the bearings to both torpedoes intently as they approached Michigan’s countermeasures. Both torpedoes blew past them without even circling for a sniff. These torpedoes clearly had the most advanced version of the MK 48 operational software, able to discern between the large submarines they were designed to sink and the small decoys that emulated them.

He glanced at the nautical chart. Thankfully, they were in relatively shallow water — above crush depth — so his crew could survive if Michigan was sunk, assuming a rescue submersible arrived in time. At the moment, it looked like that was the likeliest scenario.

“Conn, Sonar. Both torpedoes are at one thousand yards and closing!”

Things looked hopeless for Michigan, but Wilson decided to order Firing Point Procedures. If Michigan was going down, they’d take the mother ship with them. The next several reports, however, delayed his plan.

“Conn. Sonar. Torpedo to port has turned away.” A few seconds later, Sonar followed up. “Torpedo to starboard has turned away.”

As Wilson contemplated the unexpected reports, another announcement emanated from the speakers.

“Conn, Sonar. Both torpedoes have shut down.”

The behavior of the two torpedoes was puzzling. Both had gained contact on Michigan and were homing to detonation. Outrunning a torpedo was always a strategy, but it appeared they hadn’t run out of fuel; they had turned away for some reason, then shut down. Perhaps there was a bug in the mother ship’s artificial intelligence or in the software loaded into the torpedoes it carried. Either issue was quite fortuitous, and Michigan had benefited.

As Wilson pondered the unusual torpedo behavior and a plan to reengage the mother ship, the next Sonar report added to Wilson’s confusion.

“Conn, Sonar. Regain of Master one on the towed array, bearing three-four-five. Contact is closing.”

Wilson checked the speed display in the Control Room. Michigan was still traveling at maximum speed, and not only had the mother ship maintained contact, tracking Michigan’s movements, but it had closed the distance. Built from leftover Seawolf propulsion components, the mother ship clearly had Seawolf speed.

The mother ship hadn’t fired additional torpedoes, so Wilson wondered what it was up to. Why would it close on Michigan? Typically, in submarine fights, a goal was to remain as far away as possible while still maintaining contact, providing valuable distance — and time — to respond to counterfire, and also reduce the probability the target would alert upon torpedo launch.

Perhaps the mother ship wasn’t as smart as Wilson initially thought. Its bizarre behavior had presented an unexpected opportunity.

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

As Michigan’s crew prepared to launch another torpedo, Sonar made another perplexing report.

“Conn, Sonar. Receiving underwater comms from Master one.”

The mother ship was attempting to communicate acoustically with another vehicle nearby.

“Sonar, Conn. Report all contacts.”

“Conn, Sonar. Hold only Master one.”

Wilson checked the nearest combat control console display. The mother ship was still gaining ground, paralleling Michigan’s track, and there was no indication that one of its UUVs was in the area. Was it possible the mother ship was attempting to communicate with Michigan? Did it think Wilson’s submarine was one of its UUVs or perhaps another mother ship?

Wilson ordered, “Sonar, Conn. Put the underwater comms on speaker.”

The warbly sound of verbal underwater communications emanated from the Control Room speakers, but the words were unintelligible. Michigan was traveling too fast, and the flow noise past the submarine’s sensors was distorting the sound.

After another glance at one of the combat control console displays — the mother ship kept closing while matching Michigan’s course — Wilson verified that the mother ship hadn’t displayed additional aggressive behavior. Now that Wilson thought about it, he realized that the mother ship had fired only in self-defense. Perhaps its protocols were functioning properly and it would attack only if fired upon.

Wilson decided to take a gamble. “Helm, ahead two-thirds.”

He slowed his submarine so the acoustic communications could be understood.

As Michigan’s speed decayed, the words became clear.

“Ohio class submarine. Identify yourself and the reason for your attack.”

What also became clear was that the mother submarine was quite capable, identifying Michigan as an Ohio class submarine from the tonals it emitted into the water. However, it had asked two questions that Wilson would normally not be able to answer.

During underwater communications between U.S. submarines, the vessels used code names to prevent anyone in the area who might intercept the communications from identifying which U.S. submarines were nearby. Wilson figured the mother ship likely didn’t have the codebook loaded into its memory banks, so he decided to answer the first question in plain English. The second question, however, couldn’t be answered, at least not truthfully. Wilson couldn’t tell the mother ship that Michigan was bent on destroying it. Perhaps he could strike up a dialog with the mother ship’s artificial intelligence and see where it led.

Wilson pulled the WQC microphone from its holster, then spoke slowly and distinctly. His voice would be transmitted by sonar hydrophones and would be difficult to understand.

“This is Captain Wilson aboard USS Michigan. Repeat. This is Captain Wilson aboard USS Michigan. Do you have a name?”

The response from the mother ship was quick and direct.

“You’re damn right I’ve got a name! This is Dennis Gallagher aboard USS Jimmy Carter. Murray, what the hell are you doing, shooting at us?”