AN: For those of you familiar with Tom Clancy's novels (yes, hes not just a videogame producer, he's a damn good author) you will see that I've somewhat emulated his style here. Also, one will notice that quite a few of his less notable characters make "guest appearances" in this story. For those of you that are not familiar with his novels i will go so far as to explain this. Tom Clancy is a master of combining hyper realistic modern/scifi warfare with a dramatic plot, and mixing it all into characters that range from Generals commanding millions, to the cockpit jocks, to the men huddled behind the cover of a broken wall in the fury of combat, to the silent wars played in the depths of the ocean. For those of you Green horns that dont like to get your feet wet much less hear about it, then i will tell you to merely be patient. I eventually do get to the war on land, but for now content yourself in the ferocious wargames played by the brave souls who venture out into the sea. Keep your heads down mates, and keep your ears open. here be dragons.
"All ahead one third. Right standard rudder, make your bearing zero one five." Captain Toland of USS Chicago ordered.
"All ahead one third, changing zero one five starboard aye." The helmsman responded crisply. That's how things were in the US Navy. Crisp, clean, and smooth. Every man was a cog in a machine that was the fighting vessels of the Atlantic Task Force.
"Conn, Sonar" the sonar operator called over the Chicago's intercom. "Got possible transients at five kilometers, maybe twin screws."
"Keep an eye on it Kennedy." Toland responded. Chicago was one of the first of the Los Angeles class nuclear attack subs of the USN, they weren't the newer Virginia class capable of firing ICBMs at a range of almost 60 kilometers from their target. LA's ("chicanos" was one of the many bluntly affectionate nicknames) were hunter killers. Nuclear powered behemoths that could sneak up to ships and shower them with missiles or slink in and crack their backbones with torpedoes. They were the quietest ships in the ocean to date, and they could stay silent at a speed of almost thirty knots at a three hundred meter depth.
The thirty attack subs that made up of the leading arm of the Atlantic Task force were acting as feelers ahead of the fleet, marking positions over the Iridium satellite network for the main fleet and its carriers behind them. The subs were the most important part of the task force, they were the intelligence arm and were the leading edge of the sword for the fleet. They'd clear the way for the rest of the Task Force as they chugged to Iceland.
Why Iceland? Euros in possessions of the Island could make use of the two major airfields on the island. From that foothold on the island they could strike at all Atlantic shipping lanes at will with their air power. They could disrupt the planned invasion of Europe by the JSF. So it was up to the Atlantic Task Force to clean up the threat.
But they would have to deal with the European Navy first.
"Change bearing: standard port rudder three three zero. Make your speed ten knots." Toland wanted to sneak up on that contact, whether it was a submarine or a ship. He activated the intercom.
"Sonar, Conn, reevaluate contact."
A short pause as Kennedy listened to his headphones. He was an astounding sonarman, an extraordinary man out of a mold of extraordinary men. Sonarmen were loaded with the most important task in the Navy, spending maybe hours upon hours listening for the faintest of sounds that meant something man made was out there. "Sir" he responded finally. "definitely hear something faint off at three four five. Sounds like…twin screws. Really quiet."
"That's a Foxtrot then." The Executive officer, Nolan, said to Toland. The Euros called that nuclear attack sub something else but to the USN it was designated as a "foxtrot". They weren't as quiet as their older Chicano counterparts but at sprinting speeds they were said to make more than forty knots. It was always a good thing to be able to outrun your opponent.
But sub warfare was all about silence.
"Transient! Transient!" Kennedy shouted from his station. The term "transient" meant a clearly mechanical or manmade noise, whether it was the whine of a nuclear steam plant, or even something as insignificant as an engineer dropping a wrench- "transient at Three five zero, Evaluate possible submarine, range to target three kilometers. Designating contact Tango one."
"Sound general quarters. Set for Red." Toland ordered Nolan. Nolan nodded and reached for the intercom.
"General quarters, all hands to battle stations." Those that were in their bunks, sleeping off the night watch were immediately roused and raced to fire control stations and manned their posts. Most of the crewmen were already at their stations. The conn became instantly dark save for the red emergency light that kept everyone lit in a crimson afterglow.
"Set up the shot PWO" Toland snapped at the principle weapons officer. At the weapons console, Petty Officer Evers linked up his computer with the sonar where Kennedy was marking the target on his own computer.
"Mark 48s loaded, flooding tubes three and four. Opening outer doors, firing solution: sixty seconds."
"Conn, Sonar! Tango one's increased to flank, positively identify contact as Foxtrot class. Coming port to starboard now. Make speed thirty knots and climbing! He knows we're here sir!"
Shit. They blew cover. He probably heard Chicago's tubes flooding. The captain was smart, he knew he was found and now was putting some distance between his boat and the Chicago. But he was passing in front of them, "crossing the T" was the term. At a maximum speed of forty knots, that gave Toland a scant eight minutes to line up the shot and fire. Eight minutes to kill the sucker or he would go back and harass the fleet.
"Go active! Reevaluate firing solution!" Nolan barked. Toland remained silent picturing the battle. The European foxtrot was crossing ahead of them at a range of three kilometers from port to starboard. His twin Mark 48s were wire guided torpedoes capable of outrunning the Foxtrot with a speed of forty four knots. If he lead the target right, his torpedoes would strike home and take out their target.
Kennedy keyed a button switching the sonar from passive to active where the sub sent out one tone pings to evaluate range to target on the return sound.
"Sir he's flooding tubes!" Kennedy shouted
"Down planes , make your speed twenty knots!" Nolan shouted and walked over to the helmsman.
" Belay that." Toland ordered quietly but with all the authority the captain was given. "switch units to go active after leaving the tubes, then we go emergency deep."
"Firing solution!" the officer shouted. Toland had a shot.
"Match bearings and shoot!"
"Fire three, fire four electronically! Torpedoes are active and pinging!"
"Cut the wires: Emergency deep now!" the Executive officer barked and the sub commenced a deep dive. They would make a lot of noise and hopefully mask the approach of the incoming torpedoes.
"Slow to twenty knots, right full rudder make bearing zero four five." Toland ordered.
"Make my bearing zero four five aye."
"Torpedoes have acquired the target…Noisemakers he's firing noisemakers."
"Set up another shot Mr. Evers. One unit, Mark thirty seven." Noisemakers were the best countermeasure for homing torpedoes like the Mark 48. It wouldn't have been a problem if they were wire guided but Toland had his wires cut as he attempted to move evasively and throw off the firing solution for the Euro boat. Mark 48s were older but they packed a good punch. Mark thirty sevens had better more advanced tracking capabilities, but they lacked that punch of the Mark forty eights. European ships were notoriously fragile but they more than made up for it with the accuracy of their torpedoes and their quick ships.
"Torpedo three has been diverted, torpedo four is still on target."
"Tango one has accelerated to forty four knots sir!" Kennedy shouted. That Foxtrot must be redlining her reactors. The captain was really pushing it.
"Flooding tube two, opening outer doors." Evers keyed more buttons under Nolan's watchful eye. "Firing solution in twenty seconds, give me a ping."
The tone rang out like a death knell.
"Got him! Range one thousand meters!-Firing solution!"
"Hold fire." An explosion reverberated through the water. "that was torpedo three!" Kennedy shouted. "He's gone emergency deep, emergency flooding and full down planes! Torpedo four has missed!" his change of depth and the extra weight of water would slow the enemy foxtrot down significantly.
"Readjusting solution- give me another ping!"
Another toll of the bell.
"Range nine hundred! Firing solution!"
"Shoot!" Toland ordered
"Fire two electronically!"
"Fish in the water! Fish in the water, two torpedoes coming in three six zero."
"All stop, reactors cold! Shoot of countermeasures!" Nolan ordered. "Cut the wires and switch torpedo two to active!" by shutting down the reactor, the screws would stop making noise and the ship would lose buoyancy dropping slightly. By shooting of noisemakers, and with the lack of sound of submarine screws, the enemy torpedoes would most likely require on them.
"Right full rudder, down planes!" Toland barked.
"Torpedoes have acquired noisemakers." Kennedy said. "Our unit is pinging-they have the target. He's shooting off noisemakers."
The subs forward momentum would allow it for another six hundred yards of travel as it dived down and to the right far out of the way of the noisemakers. But would the euro torpedoes take the bait? Would Toland's own torpedo make its mark?
Two explosions reverberated through the hull. Then Kennedy's ecstatic voice. "That's a kill! Splash one Foxtrot! His hulls breaking up!" a cheer went up in the Conn. The battle for the Atlantic had begun, with the death of a European sub and the fifty proud European seamen it held.
"We're not done yet." Toland ordered. "restart reactors, bring us to periscope death and raise the ELM mast. There's still more subs out there, we've got to kill every last one. Let's do that."