Battlecraft (2006) (19 page)

USS
DAN DALY

INDIAN OCEAN

1900 HOURS

AN
atmosphere of tension, crackling like electricity among the attendees, filled the briefing room. The late hour of the impromptu session added to the edginess of the four members of the ACV
Battlecraft's
operational crew, Lieutenant Bill Brannigan, Lieutenant (JG) Veronica Rivers, Petty Officer First Class Paul Watkins, and Petty Officer Second Class Bobby Lee Atwill. The two assault sections were conspicuous by their absence from this meeting.

Commander Tom Carey opened the session with the terse announcement that this was a combat briefing plain and simple. "You are going into harm's way," he said. "This is strictly a sea attack, and your mission is to
hunt
and destroy that unknown warship that destroyed the two F/A-18s and fired at you."

Everyone instinctively sat up straighter, and glances were directed at Lieutenant Bill Brannigan, who had his notebook out and pen poised.

Carey continued. "You will not have air cover. The reason for this is that we want only one American blip showing up on radars whether they be friendly or hostile. This is not sound battle procedure; it is, instead, a political necessity because of pressures involving international diplomacy."

" 'Ours is but to do or die,'" Brannigan said, quoting from the poem "The Charge of the Light Brigade" by the Englishman Lord Tennyson.

"I'm afraid so," Carey said. "But don't think it means you are expendable. But as members of a volunteer professional military establishment, you must realize that from the first moment you put on that uniform, you volunteered to obey the orders of your superiors. That means first you follow those orders without hesitation, then bring forth your personal observations during debriefings afterward. And I emphasize that this session today is a briefing,
not
a debriefing. Thus, no expression of opinions is invited." He looked at Brannigan. "Poetic or not."

"In other words," Brannigan remarked dryly, "we lock our heels and follow orders."

"If a gust of wind blows those orders out a porthole, you follow after 'em right into the sea," Carey said, passing out charts to Brannigan and his crew. "Here is your operational area. Nothing new there. You've been out there dozens of times. Now, let's talk ordnance. Your missile load will be six AGM-one-nineteen-B Penguin missiles. These fire-and-forget goodies are usually launched from Seahawk helicopters, so now you know why weapons wings were placed on each side of
Battlecraft's
cabin."

"I designed them that way, sir," Veronica emphatically stated.

"A point well taken, Lieutenant," Carey said with an apologetic smile. "At any rate, the Penguins' semi-armor-piercing, HE warheads are more than adequate to handle that warship. Of course Lieutenant Rivers will also have her thirty-millimeter chain gun. You will not have an antiaircraft capability for two reasons. The first is that our intelligence assessments conclude there will be no aerial attacks directed at you." He grinned wryly. "And the second is that you don't have room for all those Penguins and any sea-to-air weaponry too."

"Sir," Brannigan said. "Do we have
any
idea of the nationality of that warship?"

"Not the slightest, Lieutenant," Carey replied. "And here's the real hang-up for you. While I described this as a hunt-and-destroy mission, you are not to attack until you are fired on. Another disadvantage forced on you by the conditions out here."

Veronica asked, "Are you going to issue us an OPORD, sir?"

"I just have, Lieutenant," Carey said. "You will go immediately to the
Battlecraft
after this briefing for a final inspection of the ACV's condition. You will begin your mission tomorrow from the
Daly'
s docking well at 0530."

"Oh-dark-thirty," Brannigan remarked. "The regular ol' SOP."

"Right," Carey said. "Good luck and Godspeed,
Battlecraft:'

Everyone stood to attention as the commander left the room.

Chapter 13.

ACV
BATTLECRAFT

ARABIAN SEA

VICINITY OF 15deg NORTH AND 65deg EAST

22 OCTOBER

1100 NOONS

PALI L
Watkins had programmed the way point data into the automatic pilot, and the ACV ran the proper azimuths at a steady sixty-two miles per hour on
two-thirds
speed. Lieutenant Bill Brannigan, sitting in his captain's chair, ordered the fuel-consuming velocity for the dual purposes of attracting attention and making the ACV easy to identify by any unfriendlies who might be looking for her.

Over to Watkins's sight, Lieutenant Veronica Rivers maintained an electronic surveillance of their environment while keeping her weapons systems ready for a violent response to any aggressive actions directed toward the
Battlecraft
Bobby Lee Atwill sat in the doorway to his engine room, sipping hot coffee from a grease-stained cup.

Lieutenant Rivers spoke tersely into the intercom. "I've got a target at three-two-one, twenty-miles. Estimate it's moving at forty-plus miles per hour. That's got to be our bad boy."

"I agree," Bannerman replied. "Helmsman, steer three-two-one. Maintain speed."

"Steer three-two-one, maintain speed, aye, sir!" Watkins said.

The autopilot automatically disengaged when Watkins manipulated sticks and rudder for the change in course. This was one of the times when the SOP and common sense called for manual control.

Veronica checked her instruments. "We're in their radar," she reported. "I'm locked onto it."

"Roger," Bannerman said.

"I've picked up six more signals, Captain," Veronica said. "Jesus! The little bastards are moving fast as hell. Seventy-plus miles per hour."

"Concentrate on the faster blips," Brannigan ordered.

"Aye, sir," Veronica replied. "They're spreading out now, getting into positions all around us."

"Roger," Bannerman acknowledged. He picked up the radio microphone and raised the Combat Direction Center on the USS
Dan Daly
, where Commander Tom Carey stood by with the two CIA men, Paulsen and Koenig. When Bannerman's initial contact was recognized by a reply from the CDC radioman, the SEAL delivered a short meaningful transmission:

"We are engaged. Out."

.

THE BATTLE

1140 HOURS LOCAL

THE
half-dozen speedier enemy craft were the Zauba Squadron's
Spica-C
lass fast-attack boats. Commodore Muhammad Mahamat knew that the ACV had an estimated speed advantage over the vessels of twenty kilometers per hour. He directed his battle plan from his flagship
Harbi-min-Islam
, and he ordered the smaller craft to spread out and come in at the ACV from various directions to neutralize that plus in the Americans' favor. Proper positioning would be the key to victory that day.

The Number One Attack Boat swung over to the outside, faking an envelopment maneuver, then quickly cut straight in at the ACV. This was the
Battlecraft's
first target, and a fire-and-forget Penguin antiship missile kicked off the weapons wing. Its Mach-1.2 speed carried it with merciless swiftness to the target, and the warhead hit the attack boat less than a foot above the waterline. The hull split open as the upper structure bent and twisted in the blinding detonation. In less than five seconds there was no sign of the boat on the sea except for bits of debris and boiling water.

"Incoming!" Veronica reported.

"Evasive action!" Bannerman ordered.

Watkins kicked the ACV up to flank speed, quickly closing in on ninety miles an hour as he made several sharp turns, alternating port and starboard directions. Meanwhile, Veronica released chaff and flares to draw off the enemy missile. It sped straight to some flares floating down toward the ocean and went through them. Then, unable to match the ACV's erratic maneuvering, the deadly rocket continued harmlessly away until it hit the waves and exploded.

"Incoming neutralized," Veronica said.

Watkins was given a new course, and he slowed down to eighty miles an hour as Veronica chose the Number Two Attack Boat as the next target. The young skipper of the Oman boat took a couple of seconds too long to order a launch.
Battlecraft's
second Penguin slammed into the small ship just aft of the bridge. Both the hull and stem whipped inward as the explosion violently split the port amidships frame.

"Incoming!" Veronica reported again.

"Evasive action!" Bannerman responded.

"Incoming!" Veronica repeated.

With two missiles streaking toward the
Battlecraft,
Watkins first threw the ACV into a series of powerful tacking maneuvers while kicking her back up to flank speed. The first missile was drawn off by the chaff while the second, coming in from a different angle, was not affected by it or the flares. Watkins made a sharp turn to starboard, waited a couple of beats, then whipped around again in the same direction. The second projectile was unable to match the swift maneuvering and flew toward the distant horizon.

Veronica was not distracted by the violent turns. She managed to get a solid lock on Number Three Attack Boat and kicked off the third Penguin. It hit the bow of the enemy vessel at a three-quarters angle, sending the force of the warhead's explosion down the entire length of the boat. In one terrifying millisecond, bolts popped, welds split, and flesh charred in the total destruction that was blown across two square miles of ocean.

Bannerman jumped down from his chair to stand behind the female weapons officer. He noted the blips of the remaining three attack boats. "Watkins," he yelled out leaning toward the helmsman. "One-quarter left rudder! Two-thirds speed."

"One-quarter left rudder, two-thirds speed, aye, sir," Watkins said as calmly as if he were making ready to move into the
Daly's
docking well.

Veronica needed no orders. She picked out two of the remaining fast attack boats, locked on, and launched. In short seconds they disappeared from the screen. She glanced up toward Bannerman, her face lit with a fierce surge of happiness.

"Fish in a barrel."

.

FLAGSHIP
HARBI-MIN-ISLAM

1155 HOURS LOCAL

COMMODORE
Muhammad Mahamat's face was blanched with fear. His mighty Zauba Fast Attack Squadron was down to his flagship and a single, solitary surviving attack boat. He looked at his watch, shocked to note that in some fifteen minutes he had been roundly and solidly defeated by a cursed infidel air-cushion vehicle.

He jumped on his command frequency and raised the Number Six Attack Boat. "What is your situation? Over."

"I am fully armed," the young skipper answered. He tried to put a tone of bravado in his voice, but a slight tremble was detectable. He had seen his five sister ships disappear off the radar one by one.

"Then with the blessings of Allah," Mahamat said, speaking rapidly, "you will make an immediate attack on the enemy vessel. Over."

"I obey,
Amid"
the young skipper replied in the full realization that he and his crew were about to be martyred.

Mahamat turned toward the deck officer. "Set a course for Taimur Naval Base.
Fl
ank speed."

The deck officer turned away and breathed a surreptitious sigh of relief, then gave the orders to the helmsman.

.

USS
DAN DALY

COMBAT DIRECTION CENTER

NOON

COMMANDER
Tom Carey exchanged grins with the others in the center as Lieutenant Bill Brannigan's voice came over the commo speaker announcing the destruction of no less than six fast-attack boats.

"Well done, Lieutenant!" Carey exclaimed. "What about the big girl? Over."

"She didn't participate in the fight," Bannerman replied. "And she drew off while we were dealing with the final boat. We've expended our missiles. Request permission to pursue enemy vessel. Over."

"Permission denied," Carey said. "That's a fully armed attack ship and all you've got left is a chain gun. You'd never get close enough to her to put a single round into her hull. Over."

"Understood" Bannerman said. "We'll go about and search for survivors. Prisoners should be useful. Over."

"Roger. As soon as that task is done, set a course for the
Dan Daly"

"Wilco. Out-

Carey put the microphone down and looked over at Paulsen and Koenig. "I would say that operation went rather well."

"I agree," Paulsen said. "It seemed they told us they were engaged and had destroyed the enemy in almost the same sentence."

Carey checked the printout of the commo log. "It was almost that fast. Bannerman said they were engaged at 1140 hours and reported the situation well in hand at noon. A victory in twenty minutes is sure as hell better than one in twenty hours or twenty days."

Koenig took a sip from his cup of coffee. 'This is not the end of the incident, gentlemen."

"Certainly not," Paulsen agreed. "The diplomacy boys are going to be busy for the next few weeks. I hope the
Battlecraft
manages to pluck some prisoners out of the water. That would make it easier all around."

"I can tell you who's going to be working their asses off in the wake of this event," Koenig said. 'The State Department's workday will be starting real early tomorrow morning."

Paulsen chuckled. "And that means our old pal Carl Joplin."

"Well, there's no better man for the job," Koenig opined.

.