Repeat, return to base!”
0951 hours Zulu (0951 hours Zone)
Soviet Guided Missile Submarine Krasniy Ritsety
Northeast of the Faeroe Islands
Naumkin leaned against the back of the radioman’s chair, looking over his
shoulder as he adjusted his receiver with quick, precise movements of his
stubby peasant’s fingers. With an antenna deployed to the surface, the sub
could tap into the transmissions of the An-74 airborne warning and control
plane circling far above the North Sea. The information from the plane’s
sophisticated array of radars would locate every plane and ship in the area.
It was the ideal way to find a target without using his own active
sensors. Though he ran the risk of an aerial searcher spotting the antenna
while it was on the surface, that was a far slimmer risk than the prospect of
using his own radar to seek out the enemy. Active sensors probing the enemy
fleet from here would call down the full weight of the American battle group’s
ASW force on Krasniy Ritsary, and Naumkin wasn’t prepared to do that yet. Not
until it became absolutely necessary.
He straightened up and crossed to the chart table, where Maleshenko was
already studying an electronic plot of the An-74 data. The Exec pointed to
one coded symbol.
“The American carrier,” he said, looking up at Naumkin with a predatory
grin. “Well within range … an ideal chance, Comrade Captain.”
Naumkin studied the chart, stroking his chin absently. He indicated
another symbol, between the sub and the carrier but closer to Krasniy Ritsary.
“What is this one?”
“Frigate,” the Exec said. “Oliver Hazard Perry class. An ASW vessel,
not a major target. Not compared to the carrier.”
“Agreed, Vitaly. But notice the positions. We might slow their
reactions somewhat by attacking both Americans. If they believe the frigate
is the target of the full attack …”
“Their carrier defenses might not react in time,” Maleshenko finished.
“Excellent, Comrade Captain. Excellent!”
“Prepare the attack,” Naumkin ordered. “Eight missiles. Six against the
carrier, two more against the frigate. Be ready to follow up with another
wave … or to maneuver if need be.”
The Exec began passing the orders, leaving Naumkin to study the map. If
Krasniy Ritsary actually damaged or destroyed the American aircraft carrier,
Admiral Khenkin would know his choice had been a good one. And a captain with
such an achievement could expect to go to the very top in the Union’s New
Order. He savored the thought until Maleshenko returned.
“Ready to launch, Comrade Captain.”
He smiled. “Begin the attack.”
0952 hours Zulu (0952 hours Zone)
Gridley LAMPS Helo Two
Northeast of the Faeroe Islands
“Madra de Dios!” Lieutenant Jimmy Mendez gasped as the sea erupted less
than a mile ahead of the SH-60 Seahawk. “What are those? Nukes?”
His TACCO, Tom Jennings, shook his head emphatically. “SS-N-19,” he
said, calm and controlled even in the face of this startling proof that the
Russians were launching a major new strike. “Soviet cruise missile. Kind of
a cheap version of the Tomahawk.” His voice changed as he switched on the
radio. “Jericho, Jericho, this is Trumpet. We have visual on Sierra Sierra
November One-Niner cruise missiles, inbound your position. Estimate six …
seven … eight SSN-19 missiles. We are prosecuting the search for the launch
platform. Over.”
“Trumpet, Jericho,” the ASW officer aboard Gridley replied. “We’ve got
them on our screens. Thanks for the warning.”
“Good luck and Godspeed,” Jennings said. “Trumpet clear. All right,
gentlemen, let’s find us a submarine!”
0953 hours Zulu (0953 hours Zone)
U.S.S. Gridley
East of the Faeroe Islands
Gridley’s SPS-49 5 C/D band air-search radar tracked the flight of Soviet
missiles from the moment they broke the surface, and the Tactical Officer on
duty in CIC promptly sounded the battle stations warning. Crewmen swarmed
through corridors and across the deck in response to the blaring siren.
The Mark 13 launcher on the forward deck could handle thirty-six Standard
SM-1 medium-range surface-to-air missiles, the frigate’s main line of defense
against aerial attack. Ten SAMs streaked skyward in response to orders from
CIC, knocking out five of the eight cruise missiles while they were still
several miles out. But the SS-N-19s were coming in fast, too fast for a