Empire Rising (25 page)

“Third fired unit has shut down!”

Commander Latham stood there a moment, absorbing the somber truth.
Texas
was defenseless, unable to sink their adversary. His job now was to extract
Texas
from this disastrous scenario, figure out what had gone wrong, and correct it before returning to battle.

“Torpedo bears one-nine-three!”

Latham observed the red lines appearing on the combat control display. Both bearings cut across the location of their decoy.

“Torpedo bears one-nine-one!”

The incoming torpedo was falling behind as it homed on their decoy. But before Latham could breathe a sigh of relief, another report from Sonar blasted across the speakers in Control.

“Torpedo launch transients, bearing one-eight-zero!”

Their adversary had also determined their first torpedo had been fooled by a decoy and had launched a second torpedo. The first decoy had worked. Hopefully a second would perform just as well. Latham called out, “Launch countermeasure!”

A moment later, a second decoy was ejected from the submarine's external launchers in the ship's hull, its position annotated on the geographic display as a white scalloped circle. Latham waited to determine whether the decoy would suck up the second torpedo chasing them.

“First torpedo is range-gating, bearing one-nine-zero! Second torpedo bears one-eight-zero.”

The first torpedo was still homing on their decoy. However, the verdict was still out on the second torpedo.

“Second torpedo bears one-eight-zero!”

Latham looked up at the Ship Control Panel.
Texas
was at maximum speed now, but its propeller was making a tremendous amount of noise. He had traded stealth for speed, but he had no choice. He had to put enough distance between
Texas
and the torpedoes chasing them to prevent the torpedoes from detecting the submarine.

“Second torpedo bears one-eight-zero!”

Concern worked its way across Latham's face. The second torpedo remained on a constant bearing. That meant it had detected
Texas
and was adjusting its course to close on its target. He examined the geographic display again, confirming his assessment. Based on the bearing lines, the second torpedo had passed by their decoy and was headed straight for them.

“Second torpedo bears one-eight-zero. Range gating. Torpedo is homing!”

The torpedo had locked on to
Texas
. Latham's options were limited. He constructed the scenario's geometry in his mind. With
Texas
on a westerly course and the torpedo on a constant bearing of one-eight-zero, that meant the torpedo was on an intercept course, angling northwest.
Texas
had to turn to the northeast.

“Pilot, right hard rudder, steady course zero-six-zero!”

The crew held on to their equipment consoles as the Pilot tilted his joystick to hard right. Submarine maneuvers were normally benign, but a hard rudder at ahead flank would whipsaw the submarine around. Latham grabbed on to the Officer of the Deck's workstation as
Texas
banked to starboard. As
Texas
steadied on its new course, he returned his attention to the geographic display, attempting to discern whether his maneuver had had the intended effect. The rapid turn had put a knuckle in the water, which would temporarily blind the torpedo as it passed through.

“Second fired torpedo bears one-eight-five!”

Commander Latham held his breath, waiting for the next report from Sonar. It appeared the torpedo had maintained course. But sonar bearings occasionally wobbled. The next bearing to the torpedo would determine whether his maneuver had been successful.

“Second fired torpedo bears one-nine-zero!”

Latham let out a sigh of relief. The second torpedo was speeding behind them. But just when things appeared to be looking up, the Sonar Supervisor made another report.

“Conn, Sonar. Torpedo launch transients, bearing zero-eight-zero!”

Latham spun toward the sonar display. A second white trace had appeared—another torpedo in the water from a different submarine—this time fired from almost directly ahead. The sonar trace was burning in much brighter than the torpedo behind them. This torpedo had been fired from close range.

“Conn, Sonar! Third torpedo is homing, bearing zero-eight-zero!”

The torpedo's pings echoed through the submarine's hull, growing louder at each interval.

This torpedo was already homing, which meant it was within two thousand yards.
Texas
was barreling straight toward it and would close the distance in just over a minute. Latham quickly evaluated the few options that remained.

One minute to impact.

Launching a torpedo decoy wouldn't work, even if
Texas
turned out of the way. The larger fast attack submarine would remain in front of the decoy, attracting the incoming torpedo.

“Third torpedo bears zero-eight-zero!”

Silence gripped Control as Sonar reported the torpedo's bearing every ten seconds. Latham searched for a way out of their predicament, and they were running out of time.

Fifty seconds to impact.

There was one option left—an Emergency Blow, filling the water around the submarine with a massive burst of air. The air pockets would distort the torpedo's sonar pings, blinding the torpedo momentarily while
Texas
ascended. Hopefully, the torpedo would pass under the submarine.

Forty seconds to impact.

But if
Texas
blew, they'd be a sitting duck. They'd end up on the surface, vulnerable and noisy, unable to submerge while it waited for its Main Ballast Tanks to vent the air trapping the submarine on the surface.

Thirty seconds to impact.

But if they didn't Emergency Blow, the torpedo would blast a hole in the submarine's pressure hull.

Latham made his decision.

“Emergency Blow all Main Ballast Tanks! Full rise on the Stern and Bow Planes!”

The Co-Pilot reached up and tapped the Emergency Blow icon on his screen, opening the valves to the ship's high-pressure air banks. Thousands of cubic feet of high-pressure air spewed into the submarine's Main Ballast Tanks, pushing the water down and out through the flood grates in the bottom of the submarine.

Twenty seconds to impact.

Latham held on to the OOD's console as the ship pitched upward thirty degrees. As
Texas
ascended, the air finished pushing the water out of the ballast tanks, then spilled out through the grates in the ship's keel, and
Texas
left massive air pockets in its wake as it sped toward the ocean surface. The torpedo chasing them was temporarily blinded, but would it pass underneath them without regaining contact? The rumble of the air spewing from the flood grates began to ease.

Ten seconds to impact.

Latham counted down the final seconds in his mind, gripping the edge of the OOD's workstation as he reached zero.

But nothing happened.

Had the torpedo passed by, or had he calculated the time to impact incorrectly?

He waited a few more seconds, in case his mental calculations had been off. But then Sonar's report clarified what had just occurred.

“Third torpedo bears two-six-zero.”

The torpedo had passed underneath
Texas
and was now on the other side, speeding away.

“Conn, Sonar. Torpedo is opening range.”

Texas
pitched forward, returning to an even keel. Latham checked the submarine's depth; they had reached the surface. Now that they had arrived there, it was time to leave. They were trapped on the surface by the air in the Main Ballast Tanks, and modern submarines traveled more slowly surfaced than submerged due to their hull design. Plus, their propeller cavitated on the surface, a beacon of sound for the Chinese submarines pursuing them. They needed to submerge again before they got another torpedo rammed down their throat. But before he gave the order to vent the Main Ballast Tanks, another report from Sonar echoed across Control.

“Conn, Sonar. Up Doppler on third torpedo! Torpedo is turning toward us!”

Latham cursed under his breath. Their adversary must still have wire guidance to their torpedo, inserting a torpedo steer back toward
Texas
. Still, the course of action was the same. He called out, “Vent all Main Ballast Tanks!”

The Co-Pilot tapped his display on the Ship Control Panel again, opening the vents to the submarine's Main Ballast Tanks. Latham knew that geysers of water spray were jetting into the air from the bow and stern of the submarine as the tanks vented, allowing water to flow back up through the flood grates in the keel. But would they submerge in time?

With the third torpedo racing back toward them, he needed to move
Texas
out of the torpedo's path before it acquired them again. He examined the sonar display on the Conn, selecting the optimal course.

“Pilot, hard left rudder, steady course three-five-zero.”

Sonar's next report cut off the Pilot's acknowledgment.

“Third torpedo is homing, range two hundred yards!”

Twenty seconds.

Latham considered launching another torpedo decoy. But
Texas
was wallowing on the surface, unable to put much distance between the submarine and the decoy. The torpedo would lock on to the much larger, more realistic target.

Ten seconds.

It was hopeless. There was no way they could evade the incoming torpedo. Latham grappled with his grim conclusion.

USS
Texas
was going to the bottom.

However, there was one essential task they had to complete before then. Latham shouted out, countermanding his earlier order. “Co-Pilot, shut all Main Ballast Tank vents! Raise the Multifunction Mast!”

The Co-Pilot looked up in surprise but quickly complied, shutting the vents. Another tap and he raised the communication antenna. Latham didn't get an opportunity to explain, because
Texas
jolted as a deafening sound rumbled through Control. The Flooding alarm began wailing throughout the ship, followed by a report on the 4-MC emergency circuit.

“Flooding in Operations Compartment! Flooding in Operations Lower Level!”

Latham shouted into the open microphone. “Radio, this is the Captain. Patch me to CTF 74! Whatever lineup is fastest!”

As he waited for Radio to complete the lineup to his operational commander, Latham hoped he had bought enough time. He'd shut the vents, trapping the air inside the Main Ballast Tanks to add buoyancy to the submarine, counteracting the flooding.
Texas
was still going to the bottom, but it would take a few seconds longer, hopefully long enough for him to inform his superiors that China had discovered a way to dud his torpedoes.

The red light on the handset by the side of the OOD's workstation lit up, followed by Radio's report over the 27-MC. “Captain, Radio. Patch complete.”

Latham grabbed the handset, then, over the roar of the inrushing water, which had filled the bottom of the Operations Compartment and was now spewing into Control, he yelled into the mouthpiece, hoping the Radioman on the other end understood him.

 

39

NINGBO, CHINA

Standing at the back of the East Sea Fleet command center, Admiral Tsou studied the pair of ten-by-fifteen-foot flat screens at the front of the room, surveying the status of China's war with the United States. The screen on the right displayed a map of the earth, overlaid with American military and GPS satellites in their orbits around the planet. The screen on the left displayed a map of the Taiwan Strait. Blue icons depicted U.S. surface ships, which had entered the two-hundred-mile-wide waterway, while red icons along China's coast marked the positions of forty
Hong Niao
surface-to-surface missile batteries, which had remained concealed thus far in the war.

The positions of China's and America's submarines were not marked, as their locations were unknown. But earlier today, China's submarines had surged to sea, and Tsou eagerly awaited the results of their engagements with their American counterparts.

Captain Cheng Bo, in charge of the East Sea Fleet Command Center, approached, stopping in front of Tsou. “I have good news, Admiral. The captain of
Jiaolong
has reported in. The Yuan sonar pulse is working as expected, shutting down the American torpedoes.
Jiaolong
sank a Virginia class submarine, and we have detected six additional underwater explosions. I expect the results of those engagements to be favorable as well.”

Tsou did not respond, waiting for one additional report.

Cheng continued, “General Cao has also notified the command center. All Fourth Department cyber warfare units are ready, awaiting your command.”

Admiral Tsou nodded this time, then replied, “Bring all missile batteries on-line and order the Fourth Department to commence operations.”

Captain Cheng acknowledged, then headed toward the Command Center supervisor, seated at his workstation behind six rows of targeting consoles. After a short discussion, the supervisor typed orders into his computer. At the front of the command center, red flashing Chinese symbols appeared on the left screen, directing all console operators to order the
Hong Niao
batteries on-line and assign contacts to their launchers. Tsou watched as the red icons along China's coast switched to green.

Tsou's attention turned to the right screen, displaying the American military and GPS satellites in orbit. A moment later, the icons turned from green to red as the Fourth Department cyber warfare units initiated the first phase of their attack.

China's preparations over the years had come down to this moment.

 

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