Vengeance

80 USS MICHIGAN K-571 KRASNOYARSK

The atmosphere in Michigan’s Control Room was subdued, with orders and reports being calmly passed between operators and supervisors as Wilson’s crew focused on refining a target solution for the Russian guided missile submarine. Designated Master one, Krasnoyarsk was a quiet submarine indeed, held only on tonals detected on Michigan’s towed array, which added to the difficulty of developing an adequate firing solution, due to having to wait several minutes after each maneuver for the array to stop snaking back and forth.

Complicating the matter, Krasnoyarsk was maneuvering frequently as it headed toward Theodore Roosevelt. Whether it was because Krasnoyarsk’s crew had counter-detected Michigan or was maneuvering prudently in the vicinity of the American fast attack in the operating area to the south, Wilson didn’t know. Either way, each time Krasnoyarsk maneuvered, it invalidated the firing solution Wilson’s crew had been developing, since the Russian submarine’s new course and speed were unknown.

Being the first submarine to fire was normally an advantage, and Wilson considered firing with a poor target solution. However, if Krasnoyarsk hadn’t yet detected Michigan, Wilson would be throwing away a significant advantage he held over his adversary. Additionally, if the firing solution turned out to be inadequate, the torpedo would need a steer command from Michigan’s crew to turn it onto an intercept track with the target. Unfortunately, the guidance wire sometimes broke during launch or while paying out as the torpedo sped toward its target, so Wilson couldn’t count on being able to send a course update to the torpedo after launch.

After considering the matter, Wilson decided to side with patience — continue to prosecute Krasnoyarsk until he had an adequate firing solution.

In Krasnoyarsk’s Central Command Post, Captain Second Rank Gavriil Novikov moved from supervisor to supervisor, checking on his crew as they traveled through the perilous water toward the ultimate prize, the American aircraft carrier trapped between the Russian submarines and the minefield blocking the Strait of Hormuz. It was obvious that a path had been cleared through the minefield for American submarines. However, it must not have been large enough to allow passage of the one-hundred-ton aircraft carrier, since it remained in the thin sliver of water on the Persian Gulf side of the minefield. For the time being, it was still trapped.

Regarding the current attack by the four Russian submarines, what was happening in the adjacent water to the south was unclear. Novikov’s best assessment was that at least one Akula had been sunk — the one Krasnoyarsk had replaced. The Akula in the operating area to the south was still alive; Hydroacoustic held the sonar signature of the Russian submarine and the American submarine it was prosecuting. Whether the third Akula, the farthest one south, was still in play, Novikov couldn’t determine.

What was far more important was whether there was another American submarine between Krasnoyarsk and the aircraft carrier. That the U.S. Navy overall held a significant numerical advantage over the Russian Navy was obvious, but how many American submarines had surged into the Persian Gulf was unknown. It was prudent, Novikov had decided, to assume that at least one more U.S. submarine stood between Krasnoyarsk and its goal; sinking the aircraft carrier would not be so easy. The next report over the Command Post speakers confirmed his assessment.

“Command Post, Hydroacoustic. Hold a new contact, designated Hydroacoustic two-one, bearing one-zero-zero. Analyzing frequency tonals.”

As Novikov wondered which class of submarine he was facing, Hydroacoustic followed up. “Command Post, Hydroacoustic. Contact two-one’s tonals correlate to Ohio-class submarine.”

Novikov pondered the unusual report. He had expected to face another fast attack, not a guided missile submarine. Carrying 154 Tomahawk missiles and a specialized SEAL detachment, the American guided missile submarines were valuable assets and would not be employed in standard submarine warfare unless there was no other option.

This was relatively good news. All four of America’s guided missile submarines had their keels laid in the 1970s, and although their tactical systems had been modernized, their hull-mounted acoustic sensors had been fabricated in the 1970s as well. The submarine’s crew would have to rely more on its modern towed array rather than the somewhat antiquated bow array.

However, the American SSGNs had a notable advantage their fast attack counterparts lacked. SSGN commanding officers were Captains on their second submarine command tour, having previously commanded another submarine, and only the most successful officers were selected to lead SSGN crews. Novikov and his crew were facing a submarine hampered by its aging technology, but aided by an experienced, handpicked Captain.

Novikov nodded subtly to himself, then announced, “All stations, track Hydroacoustic two-one.”

His crew settled into the task, and after determining the contact’s bearing rate, Novikov decided to maneuver for the next leg of analysis.

“Steersman, left full rudder, steady course zero-one-zero.”

Lieutenant Commander Tom Montgomery monitored the target solutions being generated on the combat control system consoles while listening over his headset to reports from Sonar and the other Control Room watchstanders.

After responding to another report over his headset, he announced, “Possible contact zig, Master one, due to downshift in frequency.”

Wilson glanced at the nearest time-frequency plot. Either the Russian submarine crew had detected Michigan and was beginning the prosecution phase, or the maneuver was part of its random course changes as it advanced toward Theodore Roosevelt.

He waited while the Fire Control Party sorted out what Krasnoyarsk had done. Montgomery eventually announced, “Confirm target zig. Contact has turned to port.”

Wilson examined the time-frequency plot in more detail, attempting to determine the magnitude of the Russian submarine’s turn. Based on the frequency shift, there had been a fifteen-knot downshift in speed. Assuming Krasnoyarsk had been traveling toward Michigan at ahead standard, that meant the Russian submarine had turned broadside to Michigan, attempting to maximize the change in bearing rate for its fire control algorithms.

Michigan had been detected, and Krasnoyarsk’s crew was beginning to refine its solution.

Wilson approached his Executive Officer. “We need a firing solution, soon.”

After ordering several more maneuvers, Gavriil Novikov waited impatiently while Captain Anton Topolski, his First Officer, shifted between the fire control consoles, analyzing the data from Hydroacoustic.

Krasnoyarsk had just detected the American submarine on its bow sonar array. With the American submarine now held on two different sensors, the target solution came into focus. Once their adversary’s course was refined to within ten degrees and its speed to within a few knots, they would be ready.

Topolski, who was hunched over the shoulders of the two men at the fire control consoles, tapped one michman on the shoulder. “Set as Primary.” The michman complied, and Topolski announced, “Captain, I have a firing solution.”

Novikov ordered, “Prepare to Fire, Hydroacoustic two-one, tube Two.”

The Central Command Post watchstanders began executing their launch checklists, and as Novikov prepared to retreat to the back of the Command Post to supervise preparations, he hesitated. Typically, submarines fired torpedoes on a corrected-intercept solution, with the torpedo fired at a lead angle that took into account the target submarine’s course, speed, and range, so that the torpedo and target eventually ran into each other.

But if the target submarine detected the torpedo when it was launched instead of when it went active a short distance away, it would immediately maneuver to a new course, invalidating the corrected-intercept course loaded into the torpedo, and the torpedo would be dependent on a course steer sent over its guidance wire. If the American submarine was close enough to track Krasnoyarsk, which Novikov suspected it might be, a corrected-intercept shot wasn’t the best tactic.

He decided to determine which scenario he was dealing with. To his First Officer, he ordered, “Close, then open tube Two outer door.”

Topolski looked up. “Sir?”

In preparation for battle, Novikov had opened the outer doors for every torpedo tube. Cycling a door would emit an unnecessary acoustic transient.

“Cycle tube Two outer door. I want to know if our opponent has us on its sensors.”

Topolski passed the order to the Torpedo Room, and the outer door for tube Two was closed, then opened again.

Murray Wilson studied the sonar display, watching Master one on Michigan’s port beam, drifting aft. Montgomery signaled that he had gathered enough information on Michigan’s current course and was ready for a maneuver when a report from Sonar came across the Control Room speakers.

“Conn, Sonar. Receiving metallic transients from Master one. Possible torpedo door mechanisms.”

Wilson acknowledged Sonar’s report, then called out, “Firing Point Procedures, Master one, tube One.” Montgomery didn’t yet have a firing solution, but whatever solution he had would have to do.

As the personnel in Control executed their checklists, Wilson changed course. “Helm, right full rudder, steady course one-two-zero.” If Krasnoyarsk’s crew was preparing to fire, it was best to maneuver, placing Michigan on an optimal evasion course for a corrected-intercept shot.

“Contact maneuver,” First Officer Topolski called out. “Hydroacoustic two-one is turning away, reversing course.”

Novikov had received the answer to his question. The American submarine was close enough to detect a torpedo launch and would immediately maneuver. It was time to dispense with finesse and shift to brute force.

“Cancel Fire,” he announced, followed by “Prepare to Fire, three-torpedo salvo, tubes Two, Three, and Four. Tube Two fired first.” After glancing at the target’s estimated range, he added, “Set salvo spread at twenty degrees.”

That should be wide enough to bracket the American submarine no matter which way it turned.

After estimating the American submarine’s new course, Novikov’s crew completed preparations quickly and the reports followed.

Topolski called out, “Solution updated.”

“Torpedoes ready,” followed from the Weapons Officer.

The Watch Officer announced, “Countermeasures armed.”

Novikov gave the order. “Fire tubes Two, Three, and Four!”

Michigan’s Fire Control Tracking Party was zeroing in on a firing solution for the Russian submarine when Sonar’s report blared over the Control Room speakers.

“Torpedo in the water, bearing two-four-zero!”

Wilson acknowledged Sonar’s report, then examined the geographic display. A red bearing line appeared, radiating from Master one. Assuming the torpedo was fired on a corrected-intercept course, Michigan was already on an optimal evasion course. All that was needed now was speed and countermeasures.

“Helm, ahead flank! Launch countermeasures!”

The Helm rang up ahead flank and Lieutenant Resor launched one of Michigan’s decoys. A white scalloped circle appeared on the geographic display, recording the location of their countermeasure.

Wilson returned his attention to getting a torpedo into the water. His crew was still at Firing Point Procedures, but his Executive Officer hadn’t determined a satisfactory solution. With Michigan increasing speed to ahead flank, they would likely lose Master one due to the turbulent flow of water across the submarine’s acoustic sensors. They needed to launch a torpedo soon.

He stepped from the Conn and stopped beside Montgomery, examining the solutions on the three combat control consoles. With the frequent maneuvering by both submarines, the three solutions were all over the place, failing to converge on a similar course, speed, and range of their target. As Wilson evaluated his options, he was interrupted by another announcement by the Sonar Supervisor.

“Torpedo in the water, bearing two-four-two!”

A purple bearing line appeared on the geographic display, followed by another announcement and a magenta bearing line.

“Torpedo in the water, bearing two-four-four!”

Their adversary had launched at least a three-torpedo salvo. Wilson responded immediately.

“Check Fire. Quick Reaction Firing, Master one, tube One.”

Wilson canceled the normal torpedo firing process, implementing a more urgent version, which forced his Executive Officer to send his best solution to the torpedo immediately. The Russian Captain wouldn’t know how well-aimed the torpedo was, and it was better to give him something to worry about instead of letting him refine his solution and send updates to his torpedoes over their guidance wires.

Montgomery shifted his gaze between the three combat control consoles, then tapped one of the fire control technicians on the shoulder. “Promote to Master.”

After the target parameters were sent to Weapon Control, Montgomery announced, “Solution ready!”

Lieutenant Jescovitch, hunched behind another fire control technician at the Weapon Control Console, reported, “Weapon ready!”

“Ship ready!” Lieutenant Resor announced.

“Shoot on generated bearings!” Wilson ordered.

Wilson listened to the whir of the torpedo ejection pump as the torpedo was impulsed from the tube, accelerating from rest to thirty knots in less than a second. Inside the sonar shack, the sonar technicians monitored the status of their outgoing unit.

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

“Fuel crossover achieved.”

“Turning to preset gyro course.”

“Shifting to medium speed.”

Michigan’s torpedo was headed toward its target.

Wilson examined the three sets of torpedo bearing lines on the geographic display, with new lines for each torpedo appearing every ten seconds. One set of torpedo bearings was marching aft, the bearings to the second set were steady, and the third torpedo was drawing slightly forward. Michigan was bracketed by two torpedoes, with a third running down the middle.

Stuck between two torpedoes and a third running up the middle, Wilson’s only option was to pick a course that would place Michigan an equal distance between two of the torpedoes, hoping that the submarine would be far enough away from both torpedoes that each would fail to detect Michigan as they passed by.

After estimating the torpedo courses as best as possible, Wilson ordered, “Helm, right ten degrees rudder, steady course zero-seven-zero! Launch countermeasures!”

As Michigan turned eastward, Lieutenant Resor launched a second torpedo decoy-jammer pair. Wilson watched intently as all three torpedoes closed on Michigan.

Gavriil Novikov was monitoring his torpedoes — all three were running as expected — when Hydroacoustic called out, “Torpedo in the water, bearing zero-three-zero!”

The American submarine crew had counterfired, as expected.

“Steersman, ahead flank!” Novikov ordered.

Novikov evaluated whether the torpedo had been fired on a corrected intercept course, which would take into account Krasnoyarsk’s current course and speed and require an urgent maneuver, or whether the torpedo had been a shot in the dark, on the bearing where Krasnoyarsk had been when its torpedoes were launched. Maneuvering for a corrected-intercept firing when it was actually a simple line-of-bearing shot could accidentally turn Krasnoyarsk into the path of the more poorly aimed torpedo. He decided to wait a moment, long enough to determine the bearing drift of the incoming torpedo.

More bearing lines appeared on the fire control displays, drawing slowly forward.

The torpedo had been fired on a corrected-intercept course, but the target solution had a slight error in either Krasnoyarsk’s speed or course. Not a bad shot, Novikov conceded. But not good enough.

Now that Novikov had identified that the incoming torpedo had been fired on a corrected-intercept course, he knew which way to turn.

“Steersman, left full rudder, steady course two-one-zero.”

The Steersman complied and Krasnoyarsk reversed course. Novikov monitored the torpedo bearings, which drifted rapidly aft after the turn. The torpedo would pass safely behind the submarine.

Turning his attention to his opponent’s fate, Michigan’s acoustic trace was brightly lit on the Hydroacoustic display. The American submarine was traveling at ahead flank, attempting to evade the torpedo salvo. After comparing the bearings of his three torpedoes to those of his adversary, Novikov was convinced that one of his weapons would lock onto its target.

Michigan would not get away.

Murray Wilson studied the geographic display on the nearest combat control console. The torpedo behind them had closed to within three thousand yards and would catch up to Michigan in four minutes. The torpedoes on each side would pass by without detecting the submarine, but they were doing their job. Wilson couldn’t maneuver in either direction without turning into the path of one or the other.

Wilson sensed the tension in the Control Room. The low murmur of orders and reports between watchstanders had ceased, the quiet in the Control Room pierced only by Sonar’s announcements, reporting the bearings to the three torpedoes. One by one, the watchstanders in Control looked toward Wilson, wondering if he would find a solution to their dilemma.

There was nowhere for Michigan to turn to evade the torpedoes, and it couldn’t go up or down, either. The Persian Gulf was too shallow. With Michigan measuring about eighty feet from keel to the top of the sail, there was barely a hundred feet to the surface and another hundred feet beneath the keel. There was simply nowhere to go.

Lieutenant Commander Montgomery reached the same conclusion.

“Sir,” he said. “Recommend Emergency Blow.”

“That won’t work,” Wilson replied. “There won’t be enough of a depth change. We’ll remain in the torpedo’s detection cone once it clears the bubble cloud from the Emergency Blow. However…” Wilson paused as he stared at the navigation display, wondering if he could implement a strategy that had proved successful once before.

He tapped the Quartermaster on the shoulder a second later. “Overlay bottom contour.”

The petty officer complied, and after several push-button commands, depth contours appeared on the display. Each level of the ocean bottom was displayed in a different color, increasing in brightness from a dark blue to bright yellow as the water depth increased. Ahead and just to starboard was a small bright yellow patch, indicating an area about a hundred feet deeper than the surrounding bottom.

“What’s the bottom type?” Wilson asked.

The Quartermaster retrieved the requested information from the navigation database, then replied, “Mostly quartz sand and calcium carbonate mud, with intermittent coral reef formations.”

Wilson immediately ordered, “Helm, right full rudder, steady course zero-seven-zero. Dive, make your depth two-five-zero feet.”

The Helm and Diving Officer acknowledged, followed by a report from the Quartermaster. “Sir, charted water depth is three hundred feet.”

“Understood,” Wilson replied. Stepping onto the Conn, he called out loudly, “Attention in Control. I intend to put Michigan on the bottom in the deepest spot we can reach before the torpedo catches up to us. If we’re lucky, we’ll end up in a spot we can sufficiently hide in, hoping the torpedo chasing us either loses us in the bottom clutter or locks onto a nearby coral reef instead. Carry on.”

Turning toward the Quartermaster again, Wilson ordered, “Energize the Fathometer.”

The Quartermaster complied, and the submarine’s Fathometer began sending sonar pings down toward the ocean bottom. On its display, the distance beneath the keel steadily decreased as Michigan sank toward the gulf bottom until the Diving Officer called out, “On ordered depth, two-five-zero feet.”

The middle torpedo was only two minutes behind them. Michigan would reach the shallow patch at about the same time. Wilson’s eyes shifted between the combat control console display and the Fathometer readout as the torpedo behind them closed the distance.

“Conn, Sonar.” The Sonar Supervisor’s report echoed across the tense Control Room. “Torpedo bearing two-five-zero has increased ping rate. Torpedo is homing!”

Wilson said nothing, his eyes fixed on the Fathometer. Suddenly, water depth began decreasing rapidly, reported by the Quartermaster. “Six fathoms beneath the keel… Five fathoms… Four fathoms…”

They were passing over a coral reef. But how high would it rise and how sturdy was it? With the submarine traveling at ahead flank, hitting even a coral formation could inflict significant damage to the submarine’s rudder.

As the Quartermaster called out, “Zero depth beneath the keel,” Michigan shuddered, knocking some of the personnel standing in the Control Room off balance. Wilson grabbed onto the Conn railing, his eyes still fixed on the Fathometer. The Diving Officer turned toward the Captain, looking for direction. Michigan was barreling along the ocean bottom at ahead flank speed, receiving who knows what kind of damage. Meanwhile, the torpedo behind them kept closing.

“Conn, Sonar. One minute to torpedo impact.”

Sonar’s report was barely audible above the racket as Michigan plowed along the ocean bottom, but the loud scraping sounds suddenly ceased.

Wilson immediately called out, “Helm, back emergency! Dive, bottom the submarine! Don’t break the bow dome!”

The Diving Officer turned back quickly toward the Ship Control Panel, simultaneously ordering the two planesmen in front of him, “Three down, full dive fairwater planes.”

Wilson felt tremors in Michigan’s deck as the ship’s massive seven-bladed propeller began spinning in reverse. Michigan tilted downward three degrees as it slowed, and a shudder traveled through the ship’s hull as the submarine rammed into the ocean bottom again.

“Thirty seconds to torpedo impact!”

As the submarine’s speed approached zero, Wilson called out, “Helm, all stop!” and the Helm twisted the Engine Order Telegraph to the ordered bell. The tremors beneath Wilson’s feet ceased, and Michigan came to rest with a slight tilt to port. The racket of the submarine’s grounding was replaced by a serene silence, interrupted only by the high-pitched pings of the torpedo behind them.

“Ten seconds to impact.”

A few seconds later, a deafening explosion rumbled through the Control Room, followed by hollow tings echoing through Control as chunks of coral bounced off Michigan’s steel hull.

After checking with Damage Control Central, verifying there had been no reports of serious damage to the submarine, Wilson began issuing orders.

“Rig for Reduced Electrical Power.” Picking up the Conn microphone, he pressed the button for the Engine Room. “Maneuvering, this is the Captain. Unload and secure both turbine generators as soon as possible. Also shift the reactor plant to natural circulation and secure all seawater pumps.”

The Engineering Officer of the Watch acknowledged Wilson’s order, and throughout the submarine, all nonessential equipment was secured, reducing the electrical demand to within the submarine battery’s capacity. Additionally, anything that could transmit sound through the water, indicating that Michigan was still operational — primarily machinery noises from electrical generators, pumps, and propulsion-related equipment — was ordered shut down. If they wanted to survive, they needed to convince their adversary that their torpedo had sunk Michigan. That meant the submarine not only had to play dead on the gulf bottom, but sound dead.

As the crew secured nonessential electrical loads, the ventilation fans drifted to a halt, and an uneasy silence settled over the Control Room. The nuclear-powered submarine’s battery was small by diesel submarine standards. Even if they successfully simulated a sunk submarine, they could not sit on the bottom for long.

“Command Post, Hydroacoustic. Explosion in the water, bearing zero-seven-zero. Loss of wire guide, tube Three.”

Novikov didn’t need Hydroacoustic’s report to know that one of their torpedoes had exploded. The sound was audible through the steel hull as the shock wave rumbled by. The middle torpedo in the salvo had caught its target.

A moment later, Hydroacoustic followed up. “Loss of tonals from Hydroacoustic two-one.”

The report dispelled any doubts of whether the American submarine had been sent to the bottom. Michigan was no longer a concern.

Turning his attention back to the directive he had received while Krasnoyarsk was still moored in Vladivostok, Novikov issued his next set of orders.

“Steersman, left full rudder, steady course zero-nine-zero. Slow to ahead standard.”

Krasnoyarsk turned east again, closing on the American aircraft carrier.