Attack of the Seawolf

As the frigate turned toward him, Pacino could see that the ship’s two 37-mm gun mounts were turning, one to starboard, one to port. For a moment he wondered if a Javelin cruise missile could be shot down by anti-aircraft fire if the target was alerted. As if in answer, both 37-mm guns began firing at either side of the frigate, the bright orange flashes reaching out from the muzzles even though to Pacino’s eyes there was nothing to shoot at.

P.L.A NAVY VESSEL NAN TONG

Aboard the frigate Nantong Commander Chin Chiwei raised his binoculars to his eyes, searching the dark horizon for any traces of an incoming cruise missile, but could see nothing but the sea lit by the reflections of the moonlight from the waves. Ahead, two smoking missile-exhaust plumes pointed to a spot in the ocean where the launching submarine had been only minutes before. First, thought Chin, he would down the cruise missiles and after that the firing submarine would be history.

The intercom from the combat-control center blared as his weapons officer reported:

“COMMANDER CHIN, INCOMING MISSILES BEARING ZERO NINE FIVE AND TWO SEVEN THREE, BOTH SUBSONIC, BOTH AT LOW ALTITUDE. FIRECONTROL RADARS ARE LOCKED ON AND THE 37S ARE ENABLED IN AUTOMATIC.”

Chin acknowledged, calmly waiting for the missiles to fly into view. He trained his binoculars to the bearings called out by combat and found them as dark as before. Then in a sudden burst of sound the 37-mm gun immediately below the bridge began to fire, the reports from the gun barrel rattling the plate glass of the bridge’s windows, the 180-rounds-per-minute firing rate making the sound a sustained roar. Chin watched down the bearing line, telling himself that any second the cruise missiles would be arriving, and that even if he couldn’t yet see them the firecontrol radars did … Javelin Unit Six sped in toward the Jianghu class frigate at six hundred knots, altitude thirty-five feet.

The waves flashed in under the fuselage, the target still invisible up ahead. The missile’s radar-seeker felt out ahead of the unit, searching over the surface of the water for the shape of the frigate’s hull. After a few moments the seeker saw the shape forming up ahead, the boxy bridge, the pointed bow, the tall central mast and the funnel aft, with the box of the hangar for the Dauphin helicopter and the flat helo-deck aft.

The target was confirmed. The Javelin armed the warhead and aimed at the vessel’s hull just below the bridge.

The first 37-mm bullets hit the nose cone of the missile like a spray of a shotgun’s buckshot, stinging and ripping open the skin of the nose section, knocking out the seeker-radar, then paralyzing the arming mechanism. This particular buckshot consisted of rapidly fired bullets, each weighing over a half-pound, three of them coming in per second. The missile drove on toward the target, blinded by the rain of bullets, until it took a round in its air intake duct that shot through the compressor, which lost four blades and disintegrated, rupturing the airframe and spilling jet fuel out the hole. Another bullet lodged in the navigation unit, another in the targeting computer, several in the warhead. As the missile lost thrust, its engine seized, it fell down toward the water, its fuel beginning to ignite.

Two hundred yards from the target the missile hit the water and exploded, its fuel and high-explosive warhead detonating in an impotent flash, to be swallowed and forgotten by the sea.

USS SEAWOLF

It happened so fast Pacino could hardly believe his eyes. The Javelin missile flying in at the frigate from the east exploded, crashed into the water, the splash from the detonation rising high in the moonlit sky. A moment later the second cruise missile detonated, its fireball bigger and brighter and perhaps closer to the frigate, but no more harmful to the P.L.A vessel. As he watched, a wave began at the frigate’s bow while it accelerated and turned toward him. He also caught sight of a helicopter being rolled out onto the helo deck aft as he pulled his eye away from the eyepiece, snapped down his eyepatch and lowered the periscope.

He now calculated the angle between the frigate and the Tampa, wondering if he dared risk it. No matter how he positioned the ship in the next few seconds the angle was too slim. But he had to take the risk, now that his Javelins had failed.

“Snapshot tube seven,” he called to the firecontrol team, ordering a quick-reaction torpedo shot.

“Direct contact mode, active low-speed snake, shallow surface transit, run-to-enable zero, ASH and ACR disabled.

Get the outer door open, now!”

Feyley worked the panel.

“Sir, tube seven set at shallow direct-contact, active snake at low speed, enabled at zero yards, ASH and ACR disabled.”

“Bearing and bearing-rate matched,” Keebes said.

“Range eleven hundred yards and closing.”

“Door’s open, sir,” Feyley said.

“Shoot,” Pacino ordered.

“Fire.” Feyley pulled the trigger on the horizontal panel of the console.