The Will Of The People (Conspiracy Trilogy Book 1) (34 page)

Strictly speaking, peacetime use of the
Gepard’s
weapons could only take
place with the agreement of both Captain and Executive Officer, but
both of them knew that such a restriction was unlikely to hold
under the present circumstances. Karenin was merely asking Alenikov
for his support, and his refusal would only be relevant once
normality had returned. Alenikov had formally signed to show he had
read the submarine’s orders and the detailed Rules of Engagement,
and Karenin’s interpretation was totally justified. It was a
career-breaking decision, Alenikov finally choosing to follow the
advice of his brain rather than his heart.

“Permission to attack the USS
John
Finn
is confirmed, Sir,” he said, rather
more loudly than necessary. “The Rules of Engagement have been
satisfied.”

Karenin nodded
his thanks, and moved back to the centre of the control room.
“Sonar, where’s that ASW helicopter?”

“It was last
detected fifteen kilometres north-east of us, Sir; that was about
three minutes ago.”

“Very well;
keep those reports coming.”

“Visual
confirmation, Captain?” Alenikov asked hesitantly.

Karenin slowly shook his head, “It’s too risky, even with the
distraction of the
Golovko
.”

Alenikov chose
not to press the point, despite the training manual suggesting
Karenin’s decision was unwise. Alenikov was once more in control of
his emotions, curiosity and an unexpected excitement subduing his
concerns.

“Weapons, Conn,” Karenin said. “Load tubes three and four
with Type-53s; set solution for the
John
Finn
; high-speed option.”

The orders were repeated back so as to ensure no mistakes
were made, and with four vessels in close proximity there was
always the danger of hitting the wrong target. The Type-53 was a
reliable multi-purpose torpedo, with a wake-homing mode for use
against surface ships; the modern UGST variant was as capable as
any of its Western counterparts, and even though the high-speed
setting reduced its range, the
John
Finn
was well within its limit.
Wire-guided for the first twelve hundred metres, data from the
torpedo could be fed back to the submarine and course corrections
made, allowing the operator to bypass any countermeasures. Once the
wires were cut, the torpedo’s own computer would guide it towards
the predicted position of its target before it automatically
switched to wake-homing mode.

Karenin had been tempted to test out the brand-new anti-ship
variant of the
Shkval
(squall) torpedo but its reputation was as temperamental as
its name. The
Shkval
was one of Russia’s more brilliant designs: gases from its
rocket engine were deflected by the shaped nose-cone to create a
gas bubble through which the torpedo was essentially flying,
allowing it to reach speeds of over four hundred kilometres per
hour, five times the maximum velocity of the Type-53. Although
the
Shkval’s
range was shorter than conventional torpedoes, its speed
ensured the target vessel would have no chance to manoeuvre out of
the way. It also existed in a more basic form as the
Shkval
-3 anti-torpedo,
designed specifically for fast-reaction use. In this new and
unclear confrontation between Russia and the West, standing orders
from Kaliningrad ensured two
Shkval
-3s were permanently on
stand-by, pre-loaded in torpedo tubes one and two.

“Conn, Sonar.
Admiral Golovko
has changed course; now 2900 metres astern of
Gold-One, heading zero-seven-five.”

Karenin was as close as he dared go and it looked as if
the
Golovko
was
finally giving up the chase. “Confirm solution on the
John Finn
.”

“Solution confirmed, Sir;
John
Finn
: bearing three-five-three, relative
zero-one-three; speed ten knots; range 4500 metres.”

“Fire tubes
three and four...”

Young was trying hard not to let his smile become too
obvious, keen to maintain an air of imperturbability, as though he
had always expected to win through. There had been some more
gunfire from both sides, and some wayward shots had struck
the
Alopochen’s
superstructure, but no-one had been injured. The tanker’s
captain was maintaining his course towards Gdansk, HMS
Portland
cruising along
in her wake some hundred yards astern, the
John Finn
another hundred yards
further back. Fortunately, the
Golovko
seemed to have realised it
could do little to stop the
Alopochen
without risking innocent
lives and had finally turned to head east towards the edge of the
exclusion zone.

Time now to take stock and work out whether the Russians had
finally given up, or if round two was about to start. The
John Finn’
s Seahawk was
hovering to the south-west, Young now happy to allow it to operate
inside the exclusion zone. The shallow seabed was still proving a
difficult challenge, spurious echoes creating a host of false
contacts.

Captain, Sonar. New contact...
Torpedo in the water!
Confirm two
torpedoes, bearing one-seven-one, range 4600 yards and
closing!”

“Man Battle Stations!” Young felt a chill hand grip his body,
his mind wrestling with unclear options, trusting that the
torpedoes were the standard wake-homing and not the
ultra-fast
Shkval
. As he raced down to the CIC, the Aegis Combat System
automatically analysed the threat with the command-and-decision
element reacting accordingly and far faster than the Tactical
Action Officer or any human could ever hope to do. There was an
explosion of sound as two anti-submarine rockets (ASROC) were fired
in quick succession, each missile racing away at the speed of sound
to deliver its payload of a homing torpedo close to the target
submarine’s predicted position. Even as Young reached the CIC
the
John Finn
was
already zigzagging, one of the two towed torpedo decoys – known as
Nixie – streaming out astern.

Although simulations indicated the Nixie stood a reasonable
chance of distracting a torpedo, it also acquired information for
the
Finn’
s newest
and best defence against the Russian wake-homing torpedoes – the
inelegantly named anti-torpedo torpedo or ATT. The ship
reverberated as the first ATT was launched from the torpedo tubes
stationed on the aft missile deck; a count of six and a second
torpedo leapt after its companion.

The
John Finn
was fighting back as best she could and Young stood and
stared at the tactical display, watching two flickering red symbols
as they headed towards the
John
Finn
, seemingly oblivious to all
countermeasures. HMS
Portland
was doing her part, it not yet certain whether
both of the Russian torpedoes were targeted at the
John Finn
or even if
they might soon be joined by others.

Abruptly, one of the Russian torpedoes switched back and
forth to search-mode, turning away to begin a chase of the Nixie,
before being destroyed by the first of the ATTs. The second Russian
torpedo was rather less naïve, yet still confused by the
combination of the Nixie and the
Finn
’s multiple rapid turns, the
destroyer’s overlapping wake misleading the targeting computer into
reacting prematurely. Still short of its optimum position below
the
John Finn
’s
hull, the torpedo exploded close to the stern on the port
side.

In the CIC, it felt as though some giant had picked up
the
John Finn’s
stern and then dropped it like a hot potato. Young was thrown
off his feet, crashing shoulder-first into a computer screen, his
body knocking a seaman from his chair, both of them tumbling to the
deck. The CIC seemed to rock from side to side, eventually settling
down with a slight list to port, emergency lights casting a gentle
glow over a chaotic scene. A dazed Young tried to push himself
upright, but his right arm refused to obey any commands.
Left-handed, he grabbed at a metal support and pulled himself to a
sitting position, eyes still unable to focus, blood dripping down
from cuts in his forehead and face. He sensed there was an alarm
sounding but he couldn’t hear it, just a persistent low-pitched
hiss like static or a dozen boiling kettles.

Karenin tried to ignore the steady pinging from the American
ASROC torpedo, forcing himself to concentrate on the appropriate
response. Immediately the Type-53s had been fired, he’d reloaded
with two more of the
Shkval
-3 rockets, but they were only
one of several options.

“Helm, left
five degrees rudder. Come to course two-four-zero. Ahead slow.” For
the moment, he’d try and slip quietly away.

“Conn, Sonar.
Alpha-One confirmed as American Mark-54 torpedo: range 3400 metres;
bearing three-three-eight; still in search mode.”

“Program decoy for four knots,” Karenin ordered, his voice
carrying nothing of his own fears. “Set course for two-nine-zero;
ready countermeasures.” Launched like a torpedo, the decoy would
emit sounds similar to the
Gepard
but louder. If that failed to entice the torpedo
away from its intended target, a mix of noisemakers and bubble
generators would be next.

“S
econd torpedo!
Bearing two-three-four; range estimate 3000 metres; designate
– Alpha-Two.”

Shit, he was turning into it!
“Rudder, amidships,” Karenin ordered. “Ahead dead slow.” A
rapid reverse turn would cause turbulence and alert the searching
torpedoes. It was becoming essential that they kill at least one of
them and the sooner the better. “Weapons, Conn. Set solution for
tube one as Alpha-One, tube two as Alpha-Two.”

This was when the hours of training paid off, all decisions
based on experience and a detailed knowledge of NATO’s weapons.
Karenin still had to pick the right moment to use the
Shkval
rockets: merely
opening the torpedo tubes’ outer doors could well be enough to
allow the American Mark-54s to acquire a target-lock, but nor could
Karenin afford to leave it too late.

“Conn, Sonar.
Alpha-One still searching; range 3100 metres; bearing
three-five-six. Alpha-Two also in search mode; range 2500; bearing
two-three-six.”

“Decoy ready,”
Alenikov prompted.

Karenin shook his head, preferring the more aggressive
option. The
Shkval
’s recent upgrade to wire guidance supposedly improved their
accuracy – however, the torpedo’s speed was such that anything
other than a minor adjustment in direction invariably caused the
wire to break. “Confirm solution for tube two as Alpha-Two; fire
when ready.”

Moments later the
Gepard
gave a gentle shudder as the
Shkval
rocket was launched, its
rocket engine quickly igniting to accelerate the torpedo towards
its target.

“Right five-degrees rudder,” Karenin ordered. “Come to course
two-six-zero.” The
Gepard
edged away, creeping ever further from the two
American torpedoes like a burglar trying not to disturb a pair of
sleeping dogs.

“Reprogram decoy for course three-one-five.” Karenin’s voice
was stilled by the sound of a dull explosion and the
Gepard
gave a momentary
judder. Even as the reverberation died, Karenin’s over-sensitive
ears still seemed able to pick out the discordant ping of an active
sonar.

“Alpha-Two intercepted, target destroyed,” Alenikov reported,
with almost a smile. It was eerily quick, the first
Shkval
pouncing on its
victim after what seemed like just a few seconds

“
Alpha-One has
acquired!
” The sonar chief rapidly fed
Karenin with data, “Bearing zero-two-one; range 2700; speed
forty-plus; down-angle six degrees.”

“Launch
decoy.” Karenin rattled out his orders, knowing every second was
crucial. “Confirm solution for tube one; fire when ready. Program
second decoy, speed five knots, course three-five-zero… All ahead
one-third.”

The second
Shkval
tried to emulate the success of its companion,
while both decoys worked hard to seduce the chasing torpedo away
from the
Gepard
.
Karenin changed course and slowed once more, knowing the submarine
had no chance of outrunning their pursuer. If the American torpedo
lost its fix, then it would simply begin searching again, snaking
back and forth, while using both active and passive sonar. To
Karenin’s right, the ECM Warrant Officer tried to match his skill
against that of the torpedo, tempting it with false targets whilst
trying to distort the
Gepard’s
return echo.