Phoenix Sub Zero

Again he had done everything the book said he could do to evade a torpedo. With the lighter, slower Mark 50s coming in, he might have a better chance of outpacing them than he would against a Nagasaki.

Standing on the conn, knuckles white as he gripped the handrail, Kane decided that perhaps a desk job wouldn’t be so bad after all.

CNFS HEGIRA

“I recommend a maneuver. Commander Tawkidi. We should see how close the weapons are getting.” Sublieutenant Rouni’s voice was stressed.

Tawkidi nodded slowly, uncomfortable himself without knowing what the weapons were doing. With the damage to the aft hydrophone arrays from the previous torpedo hit, there was no way to track the progress of the weapons when they were astern.

“Very well. Sublieutenant. Ship control, insert a one-point-five g-turn to the right … now.”

The deck tilted as the ship-control-panel officer inserted the turn. It would take the ship half a minute to do the 360-degree turn, after which they would return to the northern evasion course. The thirty seconds seemed to take forever, especially since they were running directly toward the weapons at the halfway point.

Back on course, Rouni at the panel attempted to analyze the data the system had seen during its look-back.

“I’m getting twelve weapons still in pursuit. Commander.

Closest is at fifteen kilometers.”

“Any active pulses?”

“No sir. So far the torpedoes are passive.”

“All of them on course for us, or are they going wide?”

“They are all vectored directly at us, sir.”

Tawkidi stepped away from the sensor and weapon consoles and took Sharef’s elbow, guiding him farther from the other officers and Sihoud and Ahmed.

“Commodore, I know we don’t have a Dash Five to support this, but I’m beginning to think we should insert a delouse.”

“On what basis, Omar?”

“We’re under broad ice-covering, sir. Their torpedoes will be listening for propulsion noises. They aren’t pinging, at least not yet, but if they do, the ice will be reflecting the pulses, They will have a velocity filter to discriminate between us, a moving object and the ice.”

“We have no intelligence on their systems.”

“We could insert the delouse and go shallow to the bottom of the ice. It’s a risk, but the intruder will keep shooting, keeping us from launching the missile …”

Sharef tried to keep an open mind but still felt certain that the American weapons were relatively crude. They were probably still on a programmed run to a listening point.

Running was the best tactic, and inserting a delouse without a Dash Five to throw off the incoming weapon was too risky. Not worth it.

“Commander, I believe we should continue the run. These weapons will soon run out of fuel, and they will no longer fire them when they realize two of our Nagasakis are on the way. The Nagasakis will destroy the launching platform, and when the torpedoes shut down we can return to our mission.”

And in the thick of it, that was how he thought of it, felt it — the mission.

Although, just for an instant, he wondered if his motivation for the order came from his aversion to launching the missiles. Whatever, he felt certain it was the correct tactical course, and that was his job. Inserting a delouse and waiting was taking a chance that did not need to be taken. And as he had insisted, there was plenty of time …

USS PHOENIX

Sanderson’s report put a rare smile on Kane’s face. “Conn, sonar, I have the Destiny emerging from the starboard baffles, very loud sound signature. He’s going very fast with a left-bearing drift. My estimate is that he’s on a parallel. course heading north, also evading the Mark 50 torpedoes, and is overtaking us.”

“Sonar, Captain, any sign that he hears us?”

“Conn, sonar, no. He’s running as scared as we are.”

Lt. Victor Houser’s expression had begun to change as he heard Sanderson say the words “also evading the Mark 50 torpedoes” and “he’s running as scared as we are.” He could barely keep his voice level as he said to Mcdonne.

“What the hell are we doing, XO?”

“Where have you been, Houser?” Mcdonne prepared to launch into one of his classic reprimands when Kane held up his hand.

“Houser, what’s on your mind?”

“Captain, XO, we’re doing a torpedo evasion based on enemy weapons. But we’re running from Mark 50s. Our own systems. We know these fish. We’re under ice. They were probably launched with a ceiling setting of 200 or 300 feet to avoid running into ice rafts, right? And they’re on a passive snake-search pattern, which will switch to a high-doppler filter active on-target acquisition. That’s the standard under-ice setting for a submerged target. So why are we running? We should stop, hover, and bring ourselves up to the ice. Those things will never hear us—”

“Helm, all back two thirds!” Kane suddenly said. “Mark speed two knots.”

The deck trembled violently as the maneuvering-room crew opened the astern turbine throttles and reversed the direction of the screw. Mcdonne stared while Houser kept frowning at the sonar display screen.

“Two knots. Captain.”