SSN - Tom Clancy [43]
The frigate was supposed to be on station forty-three miles northeast of Cheyenne. Mack didn't know it yet, but the two sonar contacts, Masters 37 and 38, were traveling next to each other forty miles northwest of Ingraham, which put them at the third point of an almost equilateral triangle, approximately forty-two miles from Cheyenne.
Making turns for 12 knots, the Alfas were running at a depth of fifty meters, not knowing that Cheyenne was approaching the area. They were heading toward Ingraham, closing in for what they thought would be an easy kill.
"Come to periscope depth," Mack ordered the OOD.
"I want to alert Ingraham."
Within minutes, Cheyenne was at sixty feet and the "flash" message was sent via satellite to the lone frigate. The message included Cheyenne's estimated position and bearing to the two Chinese submarines and the fact that Cheyenne had tentatively classified them as Alfas.
"Conn, sonar. Masters 37 and 38 have increased speed. Blade rate indicates they're running at thirty-eight-make that forty knots, sir. It looks like they're making their move."
Mack frowned. That wasn't what he'd wanted to hear. He'd wanted to remain silent until he launched his missiles, but that was no longer an option. Not with two Chinese Alfas racing to destroy Ingraham. There were few circumstances where Mack would have stood by and watched an American ship come under fire, and this wasn't one of them. He needed Ingraham. He needed it to guide Cheyenne's missiles over the horizon. Without Ingraham, Cheyenne's mission was likely to fail.
"Increase speed to flank," he ordered. "I want to intercept those Alfas. Come right to course 025."
"Increase speed to flank and come right to course 025, aye, sir."
Cheyenne's message, rapidly turned around at CTF 74 headquarters, galvanized Ingraham's officers and crew. The SH-60 crew members ran toward their helicopters, strapping their gear to their flight vests as they ran.
"Launch both helos," the Ingraham captain ordered.
In the operations center on the frigate the sonar room was silent, listening. They had detected the two Alfas, bearing 310 and 320 from them, as soon as the Chinese submarines increased their speed to flank.
"Captain, sonar, we just detected what must be Cheyenne, bearing 235. She's running at flank speed also. It looks like she's trying to put herself in between us and the Chinese submarines."
"Way to go, Mack," Ingraham's captain said softly.
But the frigate wasn't out of the woods yet. The Chinese Alfas could accelerate up to forty-three knots submerged. On a good day, with a clean hull, Cheyenne maxed out at nearly forty knots which meant that the Alfas were going to arrive first.
Not if I can help it, the Ingraham captain thought to himself. "Helm," he ordered, "come left to 235, all ahead flank." He planned to head toward Cheyenne at his frigate's top speed. With luck and a strong tail wind, Ingraham just might have a chance.
Even running at flank speed, Cheyenne's sonar was able to detect Ingraham's maneuver. The bearing indicated to Mack that she was on station where she was supposed to be. It didn't take Mack long to figure out what her captain had in mind. On the 1MC, Mack himself ordered, "Man battle stations."
According to the BSY-1 computers, the range to the Alfas was closing fast. The Chinese submarines were heading southeast at forty-two knots, and Cheyenne was heading northeast at 38 knots. Mack would have liked to stay silent, but flank speed was Cheyenne's only hope of heading off the Alfas. Besides, at forty-two knots, the Chinese submarines had no chance of hearing Cheyenne's approach.
When the range to the closest Alfa, Master 37, reached 30,000 yards, Mack ordered tubes one and two made ready in all respects. He also ordered the outer doors opened. The range to the second Alfa, Master 38, was just under 33,000 yards.
"Sir," the fire-control coordinator reported, "we're