Empire Rising (24 page)

The file opened up into a PDF document. Cindy skimmed the Chinese characters, attempting to gain a basic understanding of the content. As she translated the Chinese to English in her mind, she realized she was reviewing a battle plan. She digested page after page, soon realizing the battle plan was divided into two phases. As she began to read Phase 2, she broke into a cold sweat. She slowed down, reading and then rereading the key elements of the plan.

‘My God,” she said, not realizing she was thinking out loud.

“What is it?” Jay asked.

She turned to Jay. “If China has developed the capabilities in this document, the Pacific Fleet is in big trouble.” She reached for the phone and dialed the Director's home number, wondering if it was already too late.

 

38

USS
TEXAS

Course 170, Speed 10, Depth 200.

In the crowded Control Room, Commander Jim Latham leaned next to the Quartermaster, reviewing the ship's log as USS
Texas
searched the surrounding waters. They'd been at Battle Stations for twenty-seven hours straight, beginning with the assault on the Chinese blockade of the northern entrance to the Taiwan Strait, with
Texas
near the center of the twelve fast attack submarine juggernaut. Chinese submarine resistance had been dense but inept. Only one American submarine had been lost while all twelve Chinese submarines opposing them had been sunk, and
Texas
and the other American fast attack submarines were now headed south, sanitizing the entire Strait.

Latham had shifted his crew to a port and starboard Battle Stations rotation at the sixteen-hour point. He could push his crew only so far before they began to lose their effectiveness. Luckily, there appeared to be few Chinese submarines remaining. They had encountered only two in their operating area after breaking through the blockade, and both of them were the oldest and noisiest submarines in the Chinese Navy, easily sunk.

After reviewing the ship's position in their operating area, Latham stepped away from the Navigation table, headed toward the Officer of the Deck's Tactical Workstation near the front of Control, examining the Combat and Sonar consoles along each side. It had taken him a while to get used to the design of the Virginia class submarine, with Sonar in Control instead of a separate room, the Sonar consoles lining the port side of the ship, the combat control consoles on starboard. And while Sonar had been added to Control, the periscopes had been removed. Virginia class submarines employed photonics masts, which didn't penetrate the pressure hull—there was no periscope to press your eye against or dance with for countless hours in endless circles. The Officer of the Deck instead sat at his workstation, raising and lowering one of their two photonics masts with a flick of a switch, rotating it with a joystick, like a kid's video game. The image was displayed on one of two monitors at his workstation.

Even more unsettling was the Virginia class ship control watch section. The four watchstanders on previous submarines—the Helm and the Outboard, who manipulated the submarine's rudder and control surfaces; the Diving Officer of the Watch, who supervised them; and the Chief of the Watch, who adjusted the submarine's buoyancy and controlled the masts and antennas—had been replaced by two watchstanders—the Pilot and Co-Pilot—who sat at the Ship Control Panel. The Pilot controlled the submarine's course and depth while the Co-Pilot adjusted the submarine's buoyancy and raised and lowered the masts and antennas.

As Latham stopped behind the Officer of the Deck, a report from Sonar came across the speakers in Control. Even though the Sonar Supervisor stood only a few feet away, he spoke into his wireless headset.

“Conn, Sonar. Hold a new contact on the towed array, designated Sierra five-seven, bearing two-zero-zero, classified submerged. Analyzing.”

“Sonar, Conn. Aye,” Latham replied as he turned to his left, examining the display on one of the Sonar consoles. A faint white trace had appeared to the south. Apparently, at least one Chinese submarine remained. Hopefully this would be another of the noisy Ming class, an easy kill. Latham decided to maintain course to keep the submarine's towed array, streaming a half-mile behind
Texas
, stable while Sonar analyzed the contact's frequency tonals.

A moment after the initial report, the Sonar Supervisor followed up. “Conn, Sonar. Sierra five-seven is classified Yuan class diesel submarine.”

Latham's stomach tightened. Intel messages had reported the entire inventory of Yuan class submarines had been sunk. Those reports were obviously wrong, and
Texas
was now facing the most capable diesel submarine in the Chinese Navy.

Commander Latham stopped beside his Executive Officer, Lieutenant Commander John Milligan, to examine the contact solution on one of the BYG-1 Combat Control System consoles. The Yuan class submarines were quiet, which meant this contact would be much closer when detected than the previous two Chinese submarines. That meant there was a higher probability
Texas
would be counter-detected.

Milligan examined the three combat control consoles in front of him, then turned to Latham. “Ready to maneuver.”

Latham decided to turn to the west, placing the contact on his submarine's beam. “Pilot, right full rudder, steady course two-seven-zero.”

The Pilot acknowledged as he tilted his joystick to the right, and
Texas
began swinging to starboard. A moment later,
Texas
was steady on its new course. A few minutes later, after their towed array straightened out behind them, data streamed into their combat system again. As the Fire Control Party analyzed the contact's new bearing rate, another report from Sonar came across the Control speakers.

“Conn, Sonar. Now hold Sierra five-seven on the spherical array sonar.”

Latham exchanged a concerned glance with his Executive Officer. The spherical array was less capable than their towed array, picking up contacts at closer ranges. In this morning's water conditions, Yuan class submarines would become detectable on the spherical array at eight thousand yards. Sierra five-seven was approaching too close for comfort.

Lieutenant Commander Milligan noted Sonar's report, ordering the three men manning the combat control consoles to override the automated algorithms.

“Set range to Sierra five-seven at eight thousand yards, speed four.” Their target was a diesel submarine, most likely searching the water at slow speed. Milligan guessed four knots.

With a target range of eight thousand yards and a four-knot speed, the ship's combat control system slewed the contact's solution to a course heading almost directly toward them. Latham wondered if the Chinese submarine had already detected
Texas
, but there had been no indication thus far; no change in contact course or speed; and more important, no torpedo launch transients. Latham examined the combat control automated algorithm. It had converged on a similar solution to what the Executive Officer had forced, off by only six hundred yards in range, one knot in speed, and twenty degrees in course. Close enough for a firing solution.

The Executive Officer agreed. “Sir, I have a firing solution.”

Latham announced, “Firing Point Procedures, Sierra five-seven, Tube One.”

Thirty seconds later, Commander Latham began receiving the expected reports.

“Solution ready,” the Executive Officer announced.

“Weapon ready,” the Weapons Officer called out.

“Ship ready,” the Officer of the Deck reported.

Texas
was ready to engage.

Latham gave the order. “Shoot on generated bearings.”

The firing signal was sent to the Torpedo Room, initiating the launch sequence for the torpedo in Tube One. Latham listened to the whirr of the submarine's torpedo ejection pump and the characteristic sound of the four-thousand-pound torpedo being ejected from the submarine's torpedo tube, accelerating from rest to thirty knots in less than a second.

Sonar monitored their torpedo, referring to it as
own ship's unit
so their reports wouldn't be confused with information about an incoming torpedo.

“Own ship's unit is in the water, running normally.”

“Turning to preset gyro course.”

“Fuel crossover achieved.”

“Shifting to medium speed.”

Their MK 48 Mod 7 torpedo had turned onto the ordered bearing and was speeding toward its target.

*   *   *

Less than a minute later, their MK 48 torpedo went active, filling the water with sonar pings, searching for its target. It took only three pings before the Chinese submarine was detected and verified, and Sonar picked up the characteristic torpedo response.

“Own ship's unit is increasing speed and ping interval.”

The Weapons Officer followed up, confirming Sonar's observation as he read the telemetry data being sent back to the ship over the thin guidance wire trailing behind the torpedo.

“Own ship's unit is homing!”

Latham turned toward the combat control consoles, monitoring the performance of his weapon. Everything was proceeding well.

A powerful sonar ping echoed through the submarine. A report from the Sonar Supervisor followed. “Conn, Sonar. Sierra five-seven has gone active.”

Before Latham could acknowledge, the Weapons Officer called out, “Own ship's unit has shut down!”

Latham responded coolly. “Firing Point Procedures, Sierra five-seven, Tube Two.”

The Fire Control Party repeated their previous preparations, readying another one of their MK 48 torpedoes for launch. The required reports flowed from Latham's well-trained crew.

“Solution ready!”

“Weapon ready!”

“Ship ready!”

Latham quickly ordered, “Shoot on generated bearings!”

A second torpedo was ejected from
Texas
, and Latham waited expectantly for Sonar to announce the torpedo milestones as it pursued its target. Their first torpedo had malfunctioned. Torpedoes weren't one hundred percent reliable—there were too many single-point failures, from its electrical, fuel, and hydraulic systems, to the microprocessors in the torpedo's brain and the algorithms loaded onto them.

Their new MK 48 Mod 7 torpedoes had performed exceptionally well thus far, all eight of their previous shots finding their mark. Latham figured they were due for a bad apple. His crew responded swiftly, placing a second torpedo in the water before their target counter-fired. Latham listened closely as Sonar called out this torpedo's milestones.

“Second fired unit is in the water, running normally.”

“Turning to preset gyro course.”

“Fuel crossover achieved.”

“Shifting to medium speed.”

Latham turned his attention to the nearest combat control console, displaying an electronic map of their operating area, with an inverted green V representing their torpedo speeding toward the red icon representing their target. A moment later, the Weapons Officer called out the next torpedo milestone.

“Second fired unit has gone active.”

A few seconds later, another powerful sonar pulse echoed through Control.

As the echo from the sonar pulse faded, the Weapons Officer called out, “Second fired unit has shut down!”

A pit formed in Latham's stomach. His mind churned as he initiated the process to send a third torpedo after their adversary.

“Firing Point Procedures, Sierra five-seven, Tube Three!”

The Fire Control Party responded quickly, preparing the MK 48 torpedo in Tube Three for firing. But Latham could see the worried looks on his crew's faces as they cast furtive glances at each other and in their Captain's direction. The odds of a malfunctioning MK 48 torpedo were very low; the probability of two consecutive failures infinitesimal. And both torpedoes had shut down immediately after their contact had gone active.

The idea that their adversary could shut down every torpedo was terrifying. It meant their submarine was defenseless and the outcome of this engagement unfavorable, to say the least. There was only one way to determine, without a doubt, whether their torpedo shutdowns had been unlucky coincidence—and that was to put a third weapon into the water.

But before Latham could give the order, he heard the Sonar Supervisor shout into his headset, “Torpedo launch transients, bearing one-nine-five. Correlates to Sierra five-seven!”

Latham turned toward the Sonar consoles as a bright white trace appeared on the spherical array broadband display.

The Sonar Supervisor followed up a few seconds later. “Torpedo in the water, bearing one-nine-five!”

Latham responded instantly. “Torpedo Evasion! Pilot, right full rudder, steady course two-eight-five. Launch countermeasure!”

The Pilot twisted his joystick to the right and rang up ahead flank on his display, sending the propulsion command to the Engine Room where the Throttleman began spinning open the ahead throttles. The fast attack submarine's powerful main engines sprang to life, churning the water behind them as the propeller accelerated
Texas
to maximum speed. As
Texas
began turning to starboard, one of the Fire Control Technicians clicked the Countermeasure Launch button on his display, ejecting a torpedo decoy into the water.

“Torpedo bears one-nine-five!”

Sonar called out the bearing to the incoming torpedo every ten seconds, and Latham carefully monitored its bearings. As the fast attack submarine initiated evasive maneuvers, the disciplined Fire Control Party completed the steps required to launch another MK 48 torpedo.

“Solution ready!”

“Weapon ready!”

“Ship ready!”

Latham gave the order to shoot, and the Fire Control Party's eyes were glued to the Weapon Coordinator's screen and their ears tuned for Sonar's report, awaiting word on the performance of their third torpedo. It achieved its initial milestones, turning toward its target. But shortly after it went active, another powerful sonar ping from Sierra five-seven echoed through Control, and the dreaded report from the Weapons Officer followed.