Arabian Storm (The Hunter Killer Series Book 5) by George Wallace (different ereaders .txt) 📕

“I’m in a good place to pick up some more. And I will. Hopefully before this tinderbox gets lit up and we have to douse it.”

The fire in Tom Donnegan’s chest flared mightily.

“Yes,” he said. “Hopefully.”

Ψ

“Conn, Sonar, new contact on the towed array broadband, designate Sierra Two-Seven and Sierra Two-Eight. Best bearing zero-one-two or two-eight-eight.” The report was short and concise. This was ST2 SS Joe Drussel’s first qualified watch onboard the USS Toledo. He wanted to get everything precisely correct. After years of listening to tall tales about the legendary sonarman Master Chief Randy Zillich, Drussel was now part of the man’s sonar gang. The young sailor desperately wanted to be worthy of the duty.

Pat Durand, Toledo’s current officer of the deck, grabbed the 21MC microphone and answered, “Conn, aye. Classification on the contact?”

Drussel frowned.

“Conn, Sonar, working classification. Best I can tell so far is it sounds like a heavy. Recommend maneuver to determine bearing ambiguity.” The inexperienced sonarman hoped his voice would not crack.

Because the towed array was a single long line of hydrophones, it detected contacts in a cone around the array. This resulted in any initial contact being on one of two possible ambiguous bearings, the opposite sides of the cone. The only way to determine the correct bearing was to turn the sub. The bearing in which the contact reappeared would be the correct one.

“Let’s get a leg first,” Durand replied.

Drussel smacked his forehead. That made perfect sense. Lt. Durand wanted to stay on this course long enough to get a good, smooth bearing and gather information on the rate of bearing change, then they would maneuver.

Durand stepped to the after part of the control room and checked the ECDIS navigational display. The bearing for Sierra Two-Seven would put the contact well to the north, probably up near the Iranian coast. The bearing to Sierra Two-Eight was off to the west, deep in the Arabian Sea, where intel said they should expect the Chinese task group. The OOD reached behind himself and grabbed the JA handset.

“Captain.” Joe Glass answered on the first buzz, but his voice was heavy with sleep.

“Captain, Officer of the Deck. On course three-three-zero, depth five hundred feet, speed ahead standard. New sonar contact, towed array broadband, Sierra Two-Seven or Sierra Two-Eight. Two-Seven is on bearing zero-one-two. Sierra Two-Eight on bearing two-eight-eight. Only classification is it’s a heavy. I’m getting a first leg now. I plan to stay on this leg until I have a classification and then maneuver to two-four-zero to determine ambiguity while closing Sierra Two-Eight.”

Glass answered immediately, with absolutely no hint of drowsiness. The skipper had a knack for coming instantly and fully awake.

“Station the section tracking party. Get a leg, then maneuver. We can classify as we close. We need to determine ambiguity so we know where to hunt if we lose contact.”

Durand nodded, although the only person who could see him was the quartermaster.

“Station the section tracking party, get a leg, then determine ambiguity, aye.” But he realized he was speaking to a dead phone.

“Captain in Control!”

The chief of the watch’s announcement was half a second slow. Joe Glass was standing—fully awake—beside Pat Durand before the junior officer could even replace the JA phone handset into its holder.

“So, you think he’s off to the west, huh?” Glass grunted as he looked down at the ECDIS display.

Pat Durand was accustomed to his captain’s ability to suddenly appear in Control, assay the situation, and start asking questions. Good questions.

“Fifty-fifty chance, sir, but if he is to the west, then there is a good possibility that he is our contact of interest. If he is really to the northeast, then he is probably somebody else.”

“Good thinking,” Glass responded with an approving nod. “Maybe that head of yours is good for something besides growing hair.” Pat Durand’s head was bald as a billiard ball.

The two submariners carried on their analysis of the situation as a half dozen more people crowded into the small control room. They quietly manned various monitor positions, bringing the fire control system to full capability. LTjg Bob Ronson rushed in, still rubbing sleep from his eyes, and took his place at the Number 2 ECDIS table, shifting it from navigation mode to tactical mode. Distinct lines showing the bearing from Toledo out in the direction of Sierra Two-Seven and Two-Eight started to appear as the ECDIS began receiving a data feed from the fire control system.

After a couple of minutes analyzing his information, Ronson called out, “Officer of the Deck, we have a curve. Recommend a maneuver to resolve ambiguity.”

Durand glanced over at Joe Glass, who nodded. Durand grabbed the 21MC microphone and announced, “Conn, Sonar, coming left to two-four-zero.” His words were quickly followed by, “Helm, left full rudder, steady course two-four-zero.”

The big submerged boat had barely begun its turn when Joe Drussel announced, “Array is unstable.”

As the boat turned, and for several minutes afterward, the towed array acted much like a “crack the whip” behind the sub. Bearing information was meaningless because the array formed a changing arc as they came to the new course and steadied up.

Meanwhile, Joe Glass looked at his watch.

“It’ll be fifteen minutes before the array is stable again. Much as I love you boys, I’m going down to the wardroom and see if I can get myself some breakfast. Call me if anything changes but for sure when the array is stable.”

He disappeared out the forward control room door, ducking into his stateroom to retrieve his coffee cup. Then he headed forward and down toward the wardroom at a fast clip.

Joe Glass was convinced that breakfast was the most important meal of the day.

Ψ

Twenty minutes later, Glass was just tucking into a huge cheese omelet with bits of bacon when his JA phone buzzed. Reaching under the table, he grabbed the headset and growled, “Captain.”

“Captain, Officer of the Deck.” It was Pat Durand from the control room. “Steady on course two-four-zero. The array is stable.”

Durand