Chapter 48

 

USS Pittsburgh

2:36 p.m.

 

Captain Whiting and the C.O. of Pittsburgh stood on the bridge and waited. The C.O.’s headset crackled.

“Bridge? Combat,” the voice came through. “Only three of our fish detonated, sir. One torpedo is still on target and closing.”

“Shit,” Whiting muttered. Using their sophisticated electronics, they’d tried to reprogram the torpedoes speeding toward Hartford. It was a miracle they’d been able to get three of them to self-destruct. The problem was that only one MK-48 torpedo was enough to annihilate the submarine.

“Shit,” he said again.

Pittsburgh had surfaced only moments before. Cruising at only one hundred fifty feet below the surface, the sub had risen to the surface after attempting to short-circuit their torpedoes.

“There she is,” the C.O. said to Whiting, but the older man’s binoculars were already locked on the sight.

The bow of the submarine shot up out of the water, her tremendous speed driving her upward until the sail cleared the surface. More of the sleek black hull followed, like the body of a great whale about to breech, until the massive weight of the vessel once again became the dominant force, plummeting the bow of the submarine back to the surface. As she reentered the waters of the Sound, a huge wall of water rose up around her.

At that precise moment, the single remaining torpedo struck the underside of Hartford and exploded, the powerful blast lifting the bow of the submarine out of the water.

With the eye of a seasoned veteran, Whiting judged that the fish must have struck the hull just aft of the torpedo tubes.

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