Kazan tilted upward, rising toward periscope depth as the Watch Officer kept his face pressed to the attack periscope, the aft of the submarine’s two scopes. Despite the crowded Central Command Post, now at full Combat Stations manning, it was quiet while Kazan rose from the deep.
Captain Lieutenant Yelchin announced, “Periscope clear,” and began turning the scope swiftly, completing several sweeps in search of nearby contacts.
Kazan settled out at periscope depth as Yelchin declared, “No close contacts!”
Conversation resumed now that there was no threat of collision, and Yelchin completed a more detailed scan of the ocean and sky, searching for distant ships or aircraft.
While Plecas waited for Yelchin to complete his search, he focused on the pending launch. From Kazan’s launch point, its missiles could destroy all designated targets, which had been loaded into Kazan’s Missile Control System: the twenty largest military command centers in the United States aside from the Pentagon itself. There would be casualties, but the targets were military, which had been a key reason Plecas had agreed to the plan.
The American paying for his daughter’s medical treatment was being funded by a Middle Eastern organization, and he had convinced its leadership that the proper targets were military and not civilian. By attacking military command centers, they could defeat the American claim that they were terrorists, and instead demonstrate that they were soldiers in a war against Western aggression. The only arguably civilian target was the White House. However, the president of the United States was the head of its military, and thus met the criteria in Plecas’s mind.
The missile strikes would still claim many lives, but not more than those suffered by the Russian Navy at the hands of the Americans a few months ago. It was a fair quid pro quo as far as Plecas was concerned, an acceptable request in return for his daughter’s treatment.
“Hold no contacts.”
Yelchin had completed his search; there were no surface or air contacts within visual range.
Kazan had spent fifteen days traveling from Gadzhiyevo Naval Base through the Barents Sea, the Atlantic Ocean, and had finally reached the designated launch point in the Gulf of Mexico.
After Yelchin’s report, the men turned toward Plecas, one by one, awaiting the next order.
It was time.
Plecas announced, “Prepare to Fire, full Kalibr salvo, vertical launch tubes One through Four.”
The Weapons Officer acknowledged and prepared to launch all twenty missiles.
“All missiles are energized,” he reported. A moment later, he said, “All missiles have accepted target coordinates.”
Yelchin initiated the next step. “Open missile hatches, tubes One through Four.”
The hatches atop the submarine’s port and starboard sides began retracting.
“Conn, Sonar. Detect mechanical transients, bearing two-four-one, designated Sierra four-five.”
As the Officer of the Deck acknowledged the report, Wilson stood and evaluated the bearing on the navigation table. His request to move North Carolina to the waterspace behind Mad Fox zero-four had been approved, and North Carolina had entered its new operating area ten minutes ago, slowing for an initial sonar search. The search had turned up nothing, and Wilson had decided to return to ahead full and proceed to the middle of their new operating area.
Given Sonar’s report, he now reconsidered. At high speed, the turbulent flow of water across the submarine’s sensors reduced their effective range. They needed to slow and evaluate the mechanical transient.
Wilson ordered the Officer of the Deck, “Slow to ten knots.”
Shortly after North Carolina slowed, Sonar reported, “Hold a new contact on the towed array, designated Sierra four-six, ambiguous bearings two-four-two and two-nine-eight.”
The bearing to the southwest correlated to the mechanical transient, and Wilson waited as Sonar evaluated the frequencies and broadband noise received.
“Conn, Sonar. Sierra four-six is classified submerged.”
They had found Kazan.
Wilson focused on the mechanical transient.
Kazan was preparing to launch.
He turned to his Officer of the Deck.
“Open outer doors, all torpedo tubes.”
During the transit, Wilson had loaded all four torpedo tubes and powered up the weapons, completing their diagnostic checks. The torpedoes were ready for combat, but his crew wasn’t.
“Man Battle Stations.”
“Missile hatches, tubes One through Four, are open.”
Plecas glanced at the missile tube panel, verifying the indicating lights for hatches One through Four were green, while Kazan’s Weapons Officer verified all launch criteria were met.
“Ready to fire, full Kalibr missile salvo.”
Plecas evaluated the tactical situation, plus the readiness of his submarine and crew, one final time, then gave the order.
“Launch all missiles, tubes One through Four.”
“Loud transient on the bearing of Sierra four-five!”
The Sonar Supervisor almost shouted the report, even though he was standing only a few feet from Wilson and the Officer of the Deck, supervising the Sonar consoles on the port side of the Control Room.
The supervisor followed up, “Missile launch transient!”
A sick feeling settled low and cold in Wilson’s gut.
They were too late.
Despite the trepidation, he responded instantly.
“Quick Reaction Firing, Sierra four-six, tube Two!”
This wasn’t the situation Wilson had hoped for. Battle Stations weren’t yet fully manned, plus they didn’t have a firing solution for Kazan; they had just begun the process of determining the submarine’s course, speed, and range. However, they didn’t have time for an accurate shot. Wilson needed to stop Kazan from launching as soon as possible, which meant getting a torpedo into the water fast, regardless of its probability of hitting the Russian submarine.
If there had ever been a true test of the Submarine Force’s land-based training program, its crew toiling for endless hours in tactical training labs, this was it. North Carolina hadn’t been to sea in over two years, and this crew had never operated at sea together before today. Wilson was pleasantly surprised, however.
The nearest fire control technician promoted his solution to master, sending his best guess at the contact’s course, speed, and range to Weapon Control, while the fire control technician beside him configured his workstation into the Weapons Control Console, then sent the target solution and search parameters to the torpedo in tube Two.
After verifying the torpedo accepted the presets, he announced, “Weapon Ready!”
Wilson gave the order. “Shoot tube Two.”
The torpedo was ejected from its tube and turned onto its ordered course. Wilson had no idea if the shot was good enough to get a hit, but the torpedo’s primary purpose was to distract Kazan’s crew. He had deliberately fired from a torpedo tube facing Kazan, increasing the chance their sonarmen would detect the unique sound of a torpedo launch, which would force them to commence evasion procedures, terminating their missile launch.
Stopping the launch was the immediate goal. Sinking Kazan would come next.