Part 71 (1/2)
McCafferty hung up the phone. ”Sonar, you got anything that even looks like it might be something?”
”No, sir, it's clear right now.”
”All ahead two-thirds.” So, where the h.e.l.l is Boston? the captain asked himself.
”Funny how quiet things have got,” the exec pointed out.
”Tell me about it. I know I'm acting paranoid, but am I acting paranoid enough!” McCafferty needed the laugh. ”Okay. We sprint and drift north, fifteen minutes sprint, ten drift, until we're five miles ahead of Providence. Then we settle down to six knots and continue the mission. I'm going to catch a nap. Wake me in two hours. Talk to the division officers and chiefs, make sure the troops are getting some rest. We've been pus.h.i.+ng pretty hard. I don't want anybody to fold up.” McCafferty grabbed half a sandwich as he walked forward. It was only eight steps to his stateroom. The food was swallowed by then.
”Captain to control!” It seemed he had only just closed his eyes when the speaker over his head went off. McCafferty checked his watch on the way out the door. He'd been asleep for ninety minutes. It would have to do.
”What do we got?” he asked the exec.
”Possible submarine contact on the port quarter. Just picked it up. We got a bearing change already-it's close. No signature yet.”
”Boston?”
”Could be.”
I wish Todd hadn't gone off like that, McCafferty told himself. He found himself wondering if they shouldn't just tell Providence to go to her best speed and screw the noise. That was fatigue talking, he knew. Tired people make mistakes, especially judgmental errors. Captains can't afford those, Danny.
Chicago was making six knots. No noise at all, the captain thought. n.o.body can hear us . . . maybe, probably. You don't really know anymore, do you? He went into the sonar room.
”How you feeling, Chief?”
”Hangin' in there, skipper. This contact's a beaut. See how he fades in and out. He's there, all right, but it's a cast-iron b.i.t.c.h to hold him.”
”Boston headed off west a few hours ago.”
”Could be him coming back, sir. Lord knows he's quiet enough. Or it could be a Tango on batteries, sir. I don't have enough signal to tell the difference. Sorry, sir. I just don't know.” The chief rubbed raw eyes and let out a long breath.
”How long since you had any rest?”
”I don't know that either, sir.”
”When we finish up this one, you hit the rack, Chief.” The tracking party officer called forward next.
”I have a working range for you, sir. Five thousand yards. I think he's on an easterly course. Trying to firm that up.” McCafferty ordered a fire-control solution to be run on the contact.
”What's this?” the chief asked. ”Another sonar contact behind the first one, bearing two-five-three. He's following the other guy!”
”I need an ID, Chief.”
”I don't have enough data, Captain. Both these guys are creeping.”
Is Boston one of them? If so, which? If the one in front, do we warn him and reveal our position? Or shoot and risk shooting at the wrong one? Or just do nothing at all?
McCafferty went aft to the plotting board. ”How close is this one to Providence?”
”Just over four thousand yards, coming in on her port bow.”
”He probably has her then,” the captain thought aloud.
”But who the h.e.l.l is he?” the tracking officer asked quietly. ”And what's this Sierra-2 contact behind him?”
”Transient! Transient!” the sonar chief called. ”Mechanical transient on Sierra-2!”
”Left fifteen degrees rudder,” McCafferty ordered quietly.
”Torpedo in the water, bearing two-four-nine!”
”All ahead two-thirds!” This order was loud.
”Conn, sonar, we got increased machinery noises on Sierra-1. Okay, the front contact is a two-screw boat, blade count indicates speed of ten knots and increasing, getting some cavitation. Target Sierra-1 is maneuvering. Cla.s.sify this target as a Tango-cla.s.s.”
”Boston's the one in back. All ahead one-third.” McCafferty ordered his submarine to slow back down. ”Get him, Todd!”
His wish was rewarded with an explosion fifteen seconds later. Simms had come up with the same tactic as his friend on Chicago. Close to a few thousand yards of the target, and give him no chance to maneuver clear. Fifteen minutes later, Boston joined her healthy sister.
”Talk about a tough four hours. That Tango was good!” Simms called over on the gertrude. ”You in good shape?”
”Yes. We have the front guard position. You want to take the rear for a while?”
”You got it, Danny. See ya'.”
ICELAND.
”Lead off, Sergeant Nichols.”