Fatal Thunder: A Jerry Mitchell Novel (43 page)

It came an eternity later, almost thirty seconds by the clock. “Sonar reports a low rumble, evaluated as reverberation from an explosion.” Their enemy’s weapon had found something to home in on, and attacked it, all of it happening in their blind zone aft. Still, an echo was all they needed to hear.

“Rakash, can we turn now?”

The navigator only had to glance at the plot. “Yes, Captain! Recommend course one seven five, new depth twenty-five meters. We can increase depth to forty meters in fifteen minutes—twenty minutes if we slow to fifteen knots, which I strongly recommend.”

Jain realized he was gripping the edge of the chart table, hard, and told his hands to let go. They did, which was a relief, and he realized he had fought and won his first battle as
Chakra
’s captain.

He gave the helmsman the new course, speed, and depth, then turned back to the chart table. He studied the chart and did the math.

“He fired an active weapon, which meant he was close, no more than five thousand meters. That’s how I knew I could fire active weapons back,” Jain remarked to Rakash.

Jain then asked, “Sonar. Did you ever see more than one torpedo fired at us? Did you identify the type?”

“Yes, Captain. Only one weapon was fired and it was a TEST-71 on the high speed setting.”

Jain nodded knowingly. The TEST-71 was a Russian-made torpedo.
Chakra
had been equipped with similar weapons in the past, but they’d been replaced a few years ago with the newer UGST torpedoes, also Russian-made, but a smarter, more dangerous weapon.

“And they only fired one torpedo,” Jain observed. “That means the shooter was one of their Kilo-class diesel boats. They can only fire one wire-guided torpedo at a time.”

Jain shook his head disparagingly. “He should have fired two and just depended on the torpedo’s seekers.”

Rakash argued, “But the seekers wouldn’t be able to tell us apart from the wrecks.”

“You’re right,” Jain agreed. “So he had to go for positive control and bet on a single shot being enough.”

“But how did he hear us in the harbor? There were at least two merchants between him and us, both as noisy as cement mixers. And active sonar wouldn’t help him search with all that junk on the bottom.”

“But it did,” Jain countered, smiling. “Our own active mine-hunting sonar, that is. When we used our Arfa to search for the wrecks, he heard the pings, but not on his passive search sonar.”

Jain looked at the other officers. They were listening, trying to understand. In fact, the central post was perfectly silent. Everybody was listening.

“The Russian Kilo-class subs the Chinese bought are fitted with the same Arfa collision-avoidance sonar we use. Our first transmission, just for a short time, probably showed up as a spike on their display. That warned them we were out there. Then, we ran it continuously as we approached the wrecks, it not only confirmed our presence, but gave him a beacon to line up his shot.”

Jain admitted, “I made an assumption about the mine-hunting sonar that almost killed us. I failed to ask a very important question about who or what might be searching for us. Well, we know they’ll be searching for us now.”

19

FLAMING DATUM

15 April 2017

1800 Local Time

USS
North Dakota

20 NM South-Southwest of Ping Zhou Island

South China Sea

“CAPTAIN TO CONTROL,” blared the 1MC, the ship’s general announcing system. Jerry was in the torpedo room with Petrov when Thigpen’s summons echoed throughout the ship. Dodging between the torpedo stowage racks and then up a ladder, Jerry moved at flank speed, with Petrov close behind. By the time they reached control, Samant was already beside Thigpen at the command workstation.

“It looks like she got past us,” Thigpen stated grimly while handing his CO a message. “It’s from the Squadron Fifteen OPCENTER.”

Jerry took the piece of paper, glanced at it quickly, sighed, and read the message out loud. “Two large explosions reported by multiple civilian merchant ships in the vicinity of 22.11 north latitude, 114.20 east longitude at approximately sixteen hundred hotel time. No PLAN ships are listed as being in that area. Location of explosions is just north of Dangan Island in Dangan Shuido, which suggests
Chakra
was egressing from Hong Kong harbor area on an easterly course. Recommend you alter search area to the northeast in the direction of Ningbo-Zhoushan. PLAN has been notified of likely successful planting of nuclear-armed torpedo in Victoria Harbor and/or the Port of Shenzhen.
North Carolina
has been alerted.”

He passed the message to Petrov, mumbling his frustration under his breath: “Damn it!” Spinning about, Jerry looked at the quartermaster of the watch and growled, “Show me that location.”

“Yessir,” replied the petty officer hastily. It was rare for the CO to be so pissed off. The chart display shifted and centered on the location, just outside Hong Kong. “Here is the reported position, Skipper, just to the right of the shipping channel.” The young sailor pointed to the spot on the horizontal large-screen display.

Jerry nodded, and after a brief moment asked, “Where were we at sixteen hundred?” The quartermaster quickly entered in the time, and the pip marking
North Dakota
’s location shifted twenty nautical miles back along her track. By now Thigpen, Samant, and Petrov had gathered around the HLSD. A line of bearing extended from
North Dakota
ran right smack into the center of Dangan Island.

“No wonder we didn’t hear the explosions,” Jerry grumbled. “There’s a fricking island in the way!”

“Murphy is working overtime today,” lamented Thigpen.

“Murphy? Who is Murphy?” asked Petrov, confused.

Thigpen smiled, then explained. “Murphy, as in Murphy’s Laws. You know, if anything can go wrong, it will.”

“Ah, I understand,” Petrov responded. “The circumstances were not in our favor. So what do we do now? Head northeast in pursuit?”

“Why did Jain reveal his position by firing a weapon? What could he have been shooting at?” injected Samant. “The message made no mention of a ship being hit or sinking. Just two large explosions were observed.”

“Another submarine,” Jerry answered. “He got snapped up as he was exiting Dangan Shuido. A Chinese boat got lucky, found him, and fired first. Jain counterfired.”

“Exactly!” exclaimed Samant. “He was forced to react, and he did so in accordance with the tactical procedures that he was taught. I submit his evasion after the attack will follow along a similar line.”

“And that means he probably won’t be heading northeast, along the Chinese coast,” concluded Jerry. “He’ll head out to deeper water, give himself a little more maneuvering room.”

“But he won’t ignore his orders,” Samant cautioned. “Jain will bias his evasion route toward the next target. Given that, the likely set of courses are between here and here.” The Indian laid his hands down in a narrow pie wedge on the screen. The quartermaster made some adjustments on the screen, drawing two lines under Samant’s hands, and quickly read off the bearings.

“It’s between zero nine zero and one three zero, Skipper.”

Jerry took over the controls and laid down two lines of bearing from
North Dakota
’s position toward the wedge. “Since we aren’t hearing him now, he’s almost certainly not at flank speed. Assuming a speed of, say, fifteen knots—” Jerry looked up at Samant, who nodded his agreement. “—
Chakra
is probably somewhere around here. Assuming we haven’t totally messed things up.”

“That’s just thirty to forty miles behind us,” said Thigpen.

“Correct, Commander. And that means we still have a chance of catching him,” replied Samant; there was a tinge of regret in his voice.

“I’d like to note that we’re making the explicit assumption
Chakra
wasn’t hit in the encounter,” noted Petrov. “And while I agree it’s reasonable, someone should check and make sure it’s valid.”

Jerry looked at Petrov and nodded. “We can relay the request to Squadron Fifteen and they can ask the Chinese. It’s way inside their territorial waters and I have no desire to test their acoustic classification ability. From what I’ve seen, their preferred method is to classify by ordnance. In the meantime, we have some things that need to be done before we can go chasing after
Chakra
.

“Bernie, recall Napoleon and Bismarck. I want them in their tubes in thirty minutes. Next, get us to periscope depth. We need to relay our questions and report our movements to Squadron Fifteen. Then we go hunting.”

15 April 2017

1900 Local Time

Hong Kong Garrison Headquarters

People’s Republic of China

Captain Zhang almost ran down the main corridor at the Hong Kong Garrison headquarters, hurrying to answer the urgent summons he’d just received from his superior’s chief of staff. The day had started out on a chaotic note, and it had only gotten worse as it wore on. Besides coordinating the search for the Indian Akula, Zhang had been investigating the cause of the two large explosions reported by numerous ships in Dangan Shuido that afternoon. Moments earlier, he’d received the initial report from
Huizhou
, a Type 056 corvette assigned to the naval brigade at Hong Kong.
Huizhou
’s CO reported a large oil slick in the vicinity of the explosions, and that some debris had been recovered—debris that appeared to be of Chinese origin.

Then came the almost incomprehensible order from the South Sea Fleet headquarters in Zhanjiang to sortie the three minesweepers. When Zhang objected, saying the minesweepers would be of little use in searching for the Indian submarine, the agitated voice on the other end of the phone screamed, “Not the submarine, you fool! Sweep the harbor!” Before Zhang could even ask which one, the unidentified individual had slammed the receiver down. And now, Lieutenant General Tian wanted to see him immediately. If Zhang had any hair, it would’ve been on fire.

The chief of staff saw the captain coming and rushed to open the door to the garrison commander’s inner officer. Zhang nodded but said nothing. The door was shut almost before he’d passed through the jamb. He found Lieutenant General Tian seated at his desk, both hands cradling his head. At first, he seemed oblivious of the captain’s presence; Tian’s attention was focused on whatever he was reading. Then slowly the general raised his head, and Zhang saw his face—fear and dread were all over it. Zhang suddenly felt a chill.

“Captain, I’m putting the entire garrison on a war footing. You’re to have all ships in the naval brigade made ready for sea immediately.” Tian’s voice was businesslike, but there was a subtle shakiness to it as well.

“Of course, General. We are virtually ready now with our patrol combatants currently out looking for the Indian submarine. The minesweepers and the other auxiliaries already have a full load of fuel and provisions and can deploy within the hour. Where am I to send the ships, sir?”

“What?” Tian mumbled. His expression seemed distant, unfocused, and that’s when Zhang realized the man was in shock.

“General, what’s wrong?” asked Zhang anxiously. He’d never seen Tian so shaken before.

Tian raised the piece of paper in his hand, and offered it to Zhang. The captain took it and started to read; he didn’t even get halfway through. “This … this can’t be true? It’s unbelievable! Are we seriously going to accept the Americans’ word on something so … so fantastic?”

“The Central Military Commission has concluded the Americans’ warning is likely valid, and given the nature of this emergency, we are hardly in the position to debate its accuracy,” replied Tian more firmly. “The question before us, is what can we do about it?”

“Well, this explains the bizarre phone call I received from the South Sea Fleet headquarters just before you asked to see me. I was ordered to sortie the minesweepers, without any explanation,” Zhang said as he glanced again at the message. “I’ll order the minesweepers out immediately and have them begin searching for the torpedo. But I still don’t see which harbor they want us to search.”

“You’ll have to search both the Port of Shenzhen and Victoria Harbor, Captain, we don’t have a choice.”

“General, that is a lot of territory to cover with only three minesweepers,” remarked Zhang cautiously. “We’d need at least twice that number to do the search properly. That and a lot of time.”

Tian frowned; he was struggling to retain his composure, and the captain’s pessimistic objections were causing him to lose his patience. “Aren’t the crews adequately equipped and trained? We’re talking about two relatively small areas, Captain.”

“These are open-ocean minesweepers, General, they’re designed to look for mines on the relatively clear ocean floor, not in the middle of a badly polluted port! The bottoms of Shenzhen and Victoria Harbor are littered with trash, and a lot of that trash will look very much like a torpedo. Each of those contacts will have to be visibly identified by a diver or an imaging sonar. With each port spread out over a hundred fifty square kilometers, that’s a lot of area to cover, a lot of contacts that will have to be positively identified. This will take time.”

The general didn’t look happy. “What about the channel surveys the navy has conducted? How long did they take?”

Zhang shook his head. “Those surveys took weeks to complete and the most recent survey is nearly ten years old, and even then, that covers only a tiny fraction of the harbor floor. The rest of it hasn’t been looked at in decades.”

“We don’t have weeks, Captain!” shouted Tian in frustration. “We may only have a few days! Perhaps even less!”

“I’m well aware of that, sir,” Zhang shot back. “I’ll deploy the minesweepers immediately and then request some civilian side-scan sonars be sent to equip the smaller auxiliaries. With a little luck I should be able to double the size of the mine-hunting force in the next twenty-four hours. When can I issue the Notice to Mariners that the ports of Shenzhen and Victoria Harbor are closed?”

Tian took a deep breath, and shook his head. “We aren’t closing the harbors, Captain.”