Hunter Killer - Alex King Series 12 (2021), A BATEMAN [urban books to read TXT] 📗

“Aye, aye, captain.”

They were still silent running, so the orders were distinctly murmured. Not a whisper – that made the sound more distinguishable under water – more a gentle hum of the throat.

“Dive to six-hundred feet, check,” replied the lead helmsman.

Commander JT McClure turned to the WEPS and said, “WEPS load tubes two and four, countermeasures at the ready…”

“They’re increasing speed, now at twenty-two knots.”

“Slow to twelve.” McClure turned to his second in command and said, “Some distance and increase in their speed will allow our torpedo tubes to be loaded without detection.” He paused. “XO, do you concur?”

“I concur, Commander,” the Lieutenant-Commander replied.

McClure listened intently, the Russian submarine’s increase in wake and propulsion emitted a more distinct tone. The Russian vessel had dived as they left the icecap behind them and the only way to remain undetected was to travel directly in its wake. Six-hundred feet above them, floating sea ice played havoc with the boat’s sonar, but it also gave them the advantage of irregular sonar pulses, which could be easily ignored by the Russian submarine’s sonar operator.

“They’re changing course, Commander. Contact bearing one-twenty, south and east.” The lead communications officer paused. “Now at twelve-hundred metres.”

“Helmsman, contact bearing one-twenty…”

“Aye, aye, skipper.”

Commander McClure looked up at the Perspex map. The heading would take them directly to the sunken British submarine. He was surprised, knowing he would have taken a different, and somewhat more devious route. Perhaps zig-zagged nearer, then made his course more deliberate with the last leg. He wondered what the Russian commander’s orders were. His own crew knew nothing of the task ahead of them, only that they were to patrol an area with the high likelihood of enemy activity. As standard operating procedure dictated, Lieutenant-Commander Jacobs knew the orders and the remit they sailed under. Should anything happen to Commander McClure, then as XO, Jacobs would be in charge.

“Torpedo! Torpedo! Torpedo!” the sonar operator shouted, there was no point now in obeying the silent running protocol. “Port side, five-hundred metres and closing at twenty-five knots!”

“Hard to starboard, bearing one-twenty! Depth two-hundred,” he ordered, the submarine already in a dive. “Maximum propulsion!” Everybody had their own job, and the three commands could hardly be missed. “WEPS countermeasures, now!”

“Four-hundred metres, Commander!”

McClure did not answer as he waited for the explosions from the countermeasures. Four charges shot vertically and slowly sank in their wake. When they levelled out to the same depth as when they were launched, they exploded and super-heated phosphorus burned at 2000ºc and white-hot metal ball bearings were shot out twenty-feet in every direction.

“No change, torpedo still on course!”

“Vent chambers! Helmsman, hard to surface!” McClure gripped the rail beside the watch desk and nodded to his XO who instinctively picked up the PA and ordered the crew to brace. The crew would now be hastily finding something to hang on to, or wrap themselves around, or strap themselves to. “WEPS! Countermeasures!”

Again, the counter measure charges shot out vertically, but were left in their wake as they started to climb. The flotation tanks were flushed with compressed air and the vessel lurched upwards, its prow leading with such angle that all crew remaining on the control deck leaned heavily forwards to counter the effect.

The explosion rocked them, blowing the submarine wildly to port and seats were emptied of their occupants. Commander McClure stuck out his right floor and pinned the primary weapons officer to the deck as he slid past him. “WEPS, back to your station, if you will…” He nodded to Lieutenant-Commander Jacobs. “Prepare for breach,” he said calmly. “Helmsman, breach the surface then dive hard immediately. Ballast tanks to reverse, prepare for hard descent. WEPS, two Barracuda torpedoes away as you locate target…” He paused. “Let’s put this bastard on the bottom of the ocean…”

There were gasps from the crew as they waited for the submarine to surface. Nobody aboard had ever issued or heard the order for live torpedoes to be fired upon a real target. The Weapons Division Officer relayed to the torpedo room, the helmsman and his co-controller readied for the hard breach and the divemaster relayed that the now empty ballast tanks should be immediately pumped with water to allow a hard dive upon his order.

“Two hundred feet… one-seventy… one forty…”

“Twenty-two knots, Sir…”

“One hundred feet…”

McClure took in his crew’s feedback, then said, “Brace! Brace! Brace!”

The ordered was repeated on the PA system.

“Torpedo! Torpedo! Torpedo!” the PWO screamed. “Directly on our stern, three hundred metres!”

“Shit!” Commander McClure responded. “Countermeasures! Immediately!”

The WEPS gave the command to the torpedo room, but there was no time. The weapons crew would be holding on for dear life between checking the locks, straps and clips on the torpedoes and ground attack missiles.

The Submarine broke through the surface, two-thirds of the vessel breaching the water like a humpback whale. The belly of the vessel slapped down hard on the surface smashing onto blocks of floating sea ice, each block the size of a family car. A mighty bow wave broke ahead of them, capsizing the bergs of sea ice and driving them fifty metres away from them. Inside the submarine, there were screams and shouts as crew members were sent in all directions, injuries sustained and alarms sounding. In the galley a fire alarm was sounding, and the crew were starting to respond, the years of training becoming second nature. Already, the submarine was into its dive. Behind them, the wire-guided torpedo was still gaining on them. The countermeasure charges scattered and sank behind them, but the Russian torpedo operator had not yet armed the device, and if it could pass through the web of falling charges, then the torpedo would be unaffected.

“Enemy sub located! Two torpedoes away!” the WEPS shouted triumphantly. Unlike the wire-guided Russian torpedo which was fed