Fatal Thunder: A Jerry Mitchell Novel (49 page)

Smiling, Captain Min said something into the camera; then the image tumbled and steadied, and centered on the gray-painted helicopter, rapidly vanishing to the east and south.

Captain Dodson said, “It’s just over twenty miles to Dangan Island, and another ten miles to get everyone outside the blast. A Kamov Helix can do about a hundred forty knots flat-out—and you can bet they’re redlining those engines, so everyone except the helo crew will be in the clear in fifteen minutes for sure.”

“And a little over an hour after that, they’ll be over the drop point,” Simonis added. “But we’ve got work to do. Get Bismarck headed over to Shenzhen Harbor and have it help out Napoleon. The sooner we’re done looking that harbor over, the better.”

18 April 2017

2000 Local Time

INS
Chakra

Approach to Hangzhou Bay

They’d lost more time than even the new schedule allowed. Jain cursed himself for watching the clock so closely. Tactics shouldn’t be tied to a schedule, but he kept remembering Dhankhar’s briefing.
Chakra
’s strike was going to signal the start of a surprise and hopefully final offensive against Pakistan.
Chakra
’s captain thought of thousands of troops and mountains of supplies being moved through horrible weather, staying hidden until they could launch an unexpected early spring offensive.

Was it any wonder that he looked at the clock, and cursed the physics of sound that made him choose either speed or stealth?

They had to slow, both to reduce their own noise and improve the performance of their sensors, but that came at a price in time. Swinging wide around Taiwan, then having to slow to tactical speeds, had added too much distance. Skipping Ningbo in favor of a second attack at Shanghai put him almost back on schedule.

He’d come up the eastern side of Taiwan as fast as he’d dared. From there the Chinese coast was dead ahead almost due north. There had been no sign of naval forces since the encounter with the active sonobuoy, but that changed as he neared Santiao Chiao, on the northeast coast of Taiwan. There were more Taiwanese warships, arranged in an east-west line abreast, banging away with active sonar as they steamed back and forth almost randomly. Jain lost time tracking their movements until he’d determined they actually were random, and then more time going still farther east to avoid the search group.

Jain and his officers had debated and speculated on the possible reasons for Taiwan’s actions. Dhankhar’s concern about a spy could explain why a Chinese diesel boat had been lurking outside Hong Kong, but not why what seemed like Taiwan’s entire navy was on the lookout for submarines.

Everyone in
Chakra
’s wardroom agreed that Taiwan would not cooperate with Communist China without some compelling reason. Had China shared the spy’s information with their newly independent cousins? Would that have been enough? Did the sinking of the Chinese diesel boat have anything to do with the activity off Taiwan’s coast? Nothing made sense, and that worried Jain. What was he missing? A submarine on patrol has no friends, but it usually knows who its enemies are.

Crossing the East China Sea was a trial in patience. Lines of active sonobuoys thirty, even forty miles long lay across his path, forcing more detours, and more questions.

Typically, a patrol aircraft might carry a hundred sonobuoys, but most were passive. Usually a patrol plane would lay out a barrier of passive sonobuoys. The buoys were silent, listening only, and a passing submarine could not hear a plane unless it flew very low. It had the endurance to watch and listen for six or eight hours, and some sonobuoys could last even longer, for as much as a day, allowing a relief plane to pick up the barrier without losing a step.

If a sonobuoy heard a submarine, the aircraft would usually lay a tighter localization pattern to confirm the submarine’s presence and find out its course and speed. Armed with this information, the sub hunter would then drop an active buoy that marked their target’s actual position. The active pinging would alert the submarine, of course, but by then it would be too late. The submarine would likely be exposed and located and, on the next pass, the patrol plane would drop a homing torpedo. Jain was sure that only luck had allowed them to escape from the encounter earlier.

Patrol planes practiced their craft constantly. Practicing against their own navy’s subs while they practiced evading the planes, or tracking an unfriendly nation’s boat, they could perform the entire process, except for dropping the torpedo. Jain had practiced against Indian Navy aircraft in exercises, and he’d dodged Chinese patrol planes during the recent war.

But he’d never heard of laying a barrier of active buoys of that size. Had the Chinese given up on hearing
Chakra
with passive buoys? True, she was quiet, but the schoolbook answer was to place the buoys closer together. This new tactic made no sense, and went into the bucket he’d created with all the other puzzles.

An active buoy might detect
Chakra
at one mile, but she could hear them five or even ten miles away. He would of course turn away from the barrier, but then he had to figure out which end was closer, and then go miles off course to get past it.

Over the twenty-plus hours it took
Chakra
to cross the East China Sea, her captain had watched the clock closely, and watched their earliest arrival time slip farther and farther behind. He’d regained most of the lost time by deciding to skip Ningbo, but didn’t know if he could do that again. In his stateroom, where Rakash insisted he sleep, he studied the target folders, comparing different combinations of targets, not for their effect on the Chinese economy, but to see how quickly he could launch the rest of his torpedoes without getting his boat killed in the process.

The clock, positioned right next to his head, now loomed over him. He wasn’t worried about the timers, already set and running inside the torpedoes. He could order the Russians to reset them to any time he liked. But he’d rejected that choice earlier. Not only was one weapon already ticking away at the bottom of Victoria Harbor, but the troops waiting at the front lines couldn’t wait forever. He and Dhankhar had together confirmed the detonation time. Everything else flowed from that.

The panel next to his head buzzed. “CAPTAIN TO CENTRAL POST.” This time he was still awake, and was there in moments. “Time to the next turn?” he queried, walking up to the navigation plot.

Rakash didn’t even look at the clock. “Twenty-three minutes.”

“The Russians?” Jain asked.

“Still making checks forward. They haven’t reported any problems. Should I call them?” Jain thought about it, then shook his head no. There were two torpedoes to check this time. Orlav had even managed to get Kirichenko to help.

“We can wait a little longer. I don’t like jogging a man’s elbow when he’s working with nuclear warheads. What about the surface traffic?”

Rakash sighed, but reported, “The wall of fishing boats has hardly shifted, but you were right; they’re thinning out, so the planned turn point looks good.”
Chakra
had to actually go north, beyond the clustered fishing boats and their presumed fishing banks.

Jain stepped over to the door to the sonar space. “Sonar, do you hold anything that sounds like a warship?”

Patil, the senior sonarman, said, “Yes, sir. Several active sonars, SJD-7 medium-frequency sets off to the north, but nothing close by that could be a warship. Lots of small diesels and single-props moving at low speed.” He then shrugged apologetically. “There’s too much traffic in the main channel to tell anything.” He pointed to the display, which showed a broad, fuzzy band on those bearings.

“I’m not worried about the channel. It’s too shallow for subs, and warships in the channel can’t maneuver. And their sonar will be even more confused by the shipping than ours is. Watch the seaward exits closely.”

Patil nodded. “Watch the port exits. Aye, aye sir.”

“If there aren’t any warships here right now, we’re lucky, but they could come roaring out of the harbor at any moment—” Jain made a face. “—and probably will.”

Orlav and Kirichenko were waiting next to the nav plot when Jain stepped out of the sonar space.

Kirichenko leaned against a nearby bulkhead and remained silent, but Orlav reported, “Both torpedoes and all the firing circuits have been checked. No faults.”

“And since we have two torpedoes this time, what have you done to reduce the chance of pressing the wrong button?” joked Jain, but only slightly.

Orlav confirmed, “Are you still planning to attack the deep-water terminal first, then Shanghai International?”

Jain nodded solemnly. “Yes. That’s the plan.”

“Then tube one has the weapon programmed for a straight-in approach. It will bury itself in the shoals near the Yangshan container terminal. The other weapon, in tube two, is programmed for a five-mile run, a turn to starboard to three four zero, and then straight up the Yangtze to the harbor. The enable switches for tube two are tagged open, and won’t be closed until after the torpedo in tube one is fired.”

“Very well,” Jain said approvingly.

Orlav excused himself, saying something about getting something to eat, but Kirichenko asked permission to stay. Jain could have easily booted him out of central post, but had no reason to, and he was frankly curious to see what the ex-admiral wanted.

There was still ten minutes to the first turn, with no close threatening contacts to worry about, and all preparations completed, when the Russian approached Jain. “I’ve decided where I’d like to go ashore,” he said cautiously.

Getting the Russian off his boat was such a pleasant prospect that Jain almost smiled. “What is your choice?”

“Bali,” Kirichenko answered. Jain thought it was a good choice. The island sat on the western side of the Lombok Strait, the passage that
Chakra
planned to use on their return trip. Dropping off this Russian would be simple. He might even let Kirichenko have a raft.

“It is acceptable,” Jain said. “Do you know if Orlav has decided?”

“I think he wants to enlist in the Indian Navy,” Kirichenko grumbled.

“That’s not going to happen,” Jain answered sternly. Orlav had redeemed himself somewhat by his labors aboard
Chakra
, but Jain would never forget that the man was a traitor, someone who sold his nation’s secrets for money without conscience.
He might have just as easily been working for the Chinese, or anyone with coin to fill his pockets
 …

The quartermaster announced, “Time for the turn, sir.”

Rakash was checking the chart against the sonar display. “Two eight zero is still good, Captain.”

“Port fifteen, then. Steer course two eight zero.”

The helmsman repeated the order, and Rakash marked the chart. “Forty-two minutes until the firing point at this speed, Captain.”

Jain leaned over to study the chart. After the first weapon was fired,
Chakra
had a short six-hour run to the second firing point. Plenty of time to close the enable switches on tube two.

As he was double-checking the distance, he looked to his left and saw Kirichenko examining the route as well. The Russian was almost mimicking Jain’s posture.
Must be the old reflexes,
thought Jain.

“Mind your depth, Number One. Hopefully it matches the charts, but we won’t have much under us when we fire.”

“Mind my depth, aye, sir,” Rakash answered, and gestured to the quartermaster. They’d both keep their eye on the fathometer. They were firing in twenty-nine meters of water. It was enough, but barely.

Jain shifted his gaze back to the chart. Everything was going according to plan, and yet he still felt edgy. Something wasn’t right. What was he missing?

“It’s an easier harbor than Ningbo,” commented Kirichenko. “Much easier, and you have sufficient water depth right up to the firing point.”

The Indian skipper bristled at Kirichenko’s comments. He was, of course, correct. But that didn’t soothe Jain’s growing anxiety.

Yes, the approach to the firing point had water depths deeper than Ningbo, or even Hong Kong. But in looking at the chart, Jain saw wrecks and obstructions that reduced the water depth to less than twenty meters to the north and south of him. He felt like he was sailing into a box canyon. And the complete lack of Chinese patrols didn’t encourage him. Surely the Chinese had to know this was one of only a few approaches to Yangshan, and yet not a single PLAN vessel was in sight. It was almost as if the Chinese were intentionally avoiding the area. Sweat began to form on his brow—
were they walking into a trap?

Jain hurriedly pressed an intercom switch. “Torpedo room, confirm that tubes one, three, and eight are at action state, ready to fire, and tube two is
not
ready.”

“Central post, tubes one, three, and eight are at action state. Tube two is secure.”

“Very well. Is Orlav there?”

“No, sir.”

“Well, send someone to find him. I want him in the bomb shop before…”

“Captain! Torpedoes in the water bearing green one four five!” Patil’s voice rang throughout the space like an alarm bell. “Two weapons! They’ve gone active! Captain, they’re American Mark 48s!”

22

ENDGAME

18 April 2017

2030 Local Time

USS
North Dakota

20 NM Southeast of Dahuanglong Island

East China Sea

“Captain, own ship’s units have enabled,” reported Thigpen.

“Very well, XO,” Jerry replied. The ambush had been perfectly executed.
Chakra
had remained oblivious until
North Dakota
’s weapons had gone active. He’d initially doglegged them to the south at slow speed, and after a four-thousand-yard separation from his boat, he turned the torpedoes to their intercept course and sped up to forty knots.
Chakra
knew where the torpedoes were, but she would still be clueless about the whereabouts of her assailant. And that was fine with Jerry, although he took little pleasure in the flawless attack. He could almost hear Samant’s teeth grinding next to him.