Attack of the Seawolf

Pacino waved them to seats at his conference table, and Lennox poured coffee for himself and offered some to Morris.

“Never touch the stuff,” the SEAL officer said.

“Unless you’ve got some whisky to throw in.”

As Pacino looked at the officers he felt a moment of doubt. The mission was extremely complex and yet it depended on Lennox, an emotionally involved and unknown senior officer; on Morris, the headstrong commando; and on young Keebes, the acting Executive Officer who already was overloaded with the duties of Navigator and Operations Officer. The mission would be risky even with a crack crew that had trained together for months — with these men who had never worked together, with an untried submarine, the odds on success seemed long.

But they were better than the ones for Sean Murphy and the Tampa.

Pacino reached into the duffel bag on his bunk and pulled out a black zippered briefcase. He unzipped the case and withdrew a bundle of papers. The first was a large-area plot of the western Pacific and the east coast of China. The ship’s track was laid out in straight black lines, each turn marked by a letter.

South from Yokosuka to Point Alpha, southwest to Point Bravo, the dive point Alpha-Prime in between.

At Point Bravo the track turned northwest to the Yellow Sea opposite the southern tip of Korea, where at Point Charlie it extended north into the Korea Bay.

The track turned steadily west at Points Delta and Echo, where it headed due west to the Lushun/Penglai Gap, the entrance to the Go Hai Bay. After jogging northward of Point Foxtrot and Golf, the track continued west to Point Hotel at Tianjin on the western coast of the bay.

“As you can see, we’re headed for Point Hotel off the Chinese coast at Tianjin in the Go Hai Bay. Our ETA at Point Hotel is seventeen hundred zulu time Sunday. That will be zero one hundred local time, nicely in the middle of the night.”

The next paper was a large blowup of an overhead photograph, either a satellite view or a shot from an RF-117A Stealth. It showed the concrete pier at Xingang with the American submarine secured between two surface warships, the pier side ship tied to the pier, another warship astern of the submarine, a fourth ahead of it. The submarine looked wounded, her paint blown off in large patches, her sail damaged, the hatches on deck guarded by several men wielding weapons. Pacino spread the photo out on the table and let the men look at it.

“This is the Tampa, now under the control of the Chinese Communists at the P.L.A Northern Fleet piers at Xingang. As you’ve all guessed by now, our mission is to get the Tampa and her crew out of the bay in one piece.”

Pacino told the men that the Tampa crew were likely held aboard, that the engine room was probably still steaming, and that the surface forces of Lushun would be waiting for them at the mouth of the bay, at the Lushun/Penglai Gap.

“So, gentlemen, it’s your turn. How the hell do we get this boat out of here?”

Morris had pulled a cigarette from his fatigue uniform pocket and was searching the room for an ash tray. Finding none, he shrugged and lit the cigarette, blowing the smoke to the ceiling. The room’s quiet ventilation system sucked the smoke away almost immediately.

Morris tapped an ash into his unused coffee mug and squinted through the smoke at Pacino.

“I say we dive under the inboard and outboard destroyers and blow them. Meanwhile we’ll sneak aboard the sub, kill the guards, turn it over to the crew and get the hell out.”

“You make it sound real simple,” Lennox said.

“What does ‘blow the destroyers’ mean? You got a couple girls from Subic in your unit?”

“Up yours,” Morris said, hands balled into fists.

“Hold it,” Pacino said, steel in his voice.

“Let’s understand each other. This is a mission to rescue the Tampa, not to play interservice rivalries. Commander Morris, you SEALs are always bitching that no one in the rest of the Navy knows or cares how to use your forces. Well, this is your chance to define the mission your way. I’m open to anything you want to try. Just don’t insult our intelligence with macho crap about ‘blowing the destroyers and taking the boat.”

How, where, why, damnit …”

Morris looked into his cup, now filling with ashes.

“Okay, Cap’n,” he said, his voice calm.

“This is how it goes down. SEAL Team Seven’s first, second and third platoons are aboard. Each platoon has six enlisted men and an officer in command. You get us close to the pier and lock us out a platoon at a time.

When we’re all out, we’ll put a series of high explosive satchel charges under the keels of the inboard and outboard destroyers. First and second platoons knock out the topside guards, as quiet as possible, and board the sub. While they are taking care of the guards aboard, third platoon keeps watch to make sure no reinforcements board from the other ships or the pier.