Piranha: Firing Point

He glanced at Colleen one last time before concentrating again on the briefing. She seemed to sense him looking at her, and she turned with her large eyes on his, her expression a smoldering anger, still mad at him that he was kicking her off the ship before the battle came.

But just before she turned back to look at Porter, he could swear the corners of her eyes lifted, that she’d broken his gaze to avoid smiling at him. Guilt settled on him again, and he looked at his left finger where his Annapolis ring was. A year ago he’d removed Eileen’s wedding band, the inscription reading I’ll love you forever, and placed it on a ribbon around a photograph of her he kept by the bed of his Pearl Harbor headquarters bedroom, then switched the academy ring from his right finger to his left. An odd impulse took hold of him, and he suddenly pulled the class ring off the left finger and put it on his right. He looked up and saw Colleen had seen him make the switch. He tried to return his attention to Porter.

“… Mark 52 range at eight to forty miles depending on transit speed and depth. Okay, now on to sensors.

“We’ve been over sonar in depth. Let’s review the OTH sensors. We have two over-the-horizon targeting sensors, the Mark 12 ‘Yo-Yo’ and the Mark 4 ‘Sharkeye.’ The Mark 12 Yo-Yo is dropped by a P-5 Pegasus patrol plane, is about ten feet in diameter, and pops out a small buoy that stays on the surface while the main body of it sinks to eight hundred to one thousand feet, whatever best listening depth is. The Yo-Yo pod is a sonar receiver much like our acoustic-daylight-imaging sphere in the nose cone, and anything detected is relayed up a cable to the buoy, which transmits the data by tactical datalink to the overhead Comstar satellite, then down to us at periscope depth. Using the Yo-Yo remote over-the-horizon targeting pod, we can receive sonar signals from fifteen hundred miles away. The Yo-Yo range is less than our own sphere, but it’s not bad. Detection on a submarine might be up to one hundred miles, but we’re counting on fifty.

“Now, the Sharkeye Mark 4. In the event the Yo-Yo isn’t available, such as when there are no P-5 Pegasus patrol aircraft available, we can use our own Mark 4 Sharkeyes. The Sharkeye is a pod like the Yo-Yo, except contained in the upper section of a Javelin cruise-missile body, replacing the warhead. On this run the ship is loaded with only two plasma Javelin cruise missiles. The other ten missiles in the vertical-launch tubes are rockets to launch the Mark 4 Sharkeye remote sonar pods. The Sharkeye has a detection range of about twenty-four to forty-eight miles, with the confidence interval set at thirty miles. We’re hoping we can use the bigger, higher-definition Yo-Yos, but if something goes wrong, we’ll have our Sharkeyes.

“So that’s everything. Anyone need a break?” “Let’s take five,” Patton said, “then get back here for Admiral Pacino’s war briefing.” “Gentlemen, we’re reconvened,” Porter said, bringing the afternoon training session to order.

“Nav, the doors locked?” executive officer Walt Hornick asked.

“Yes, XO.”

“Everyone cleared for this? Only gold dolphin wearers in here?”

Pacino looked around the room. Colleen O’Shaughnessy was absent, and he felt relief, then annoyance. He had to stop this. His feelings for her might jeopardize their working relationship. Plus, he had to keep his mind on the mission’s business.

“Admiral, we’re ready,” Patton said.

Glancing at the chart display, Pacino stood and addressed the officers.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” He always began formally, an old habit. “This is the East China Sea. Marked in red is the position of the sinking of the initial RDF convoy, in the gap between Naze Island and Yakushima.

The Naze-Yakushima Gap is directly on the great circle route from Oahu to Shanghai. Gentlemen, my theory is that the Rising Suns are lurking up here, in the gap.

“Now, that’s not how I would defend the East China Sea against a convoy or against an attacking squadron of submarines. I’d spread out. But here is what the enemy is thinking — I’ll wait here at the doorway, and the convoy will come in there, since they’re in a big hurry to get to the mainland. Since my speed is faster than the convoy’s, and since I have a spy satellite overhead taking pictures of the surface ships, I know where they’re headed. Plus, Shanghai is the trouble spot, because the Red thrust objective is to split White China in two. So Shanghai is the key to the defense of the Whites.

It’s top secret, but any dummy could guess that. Everyone with me so far?

“Okay, so our Red force is clustered at the gap.

Aren’t they afraid of us? Afraid a U.S. sub detachment will come to get them? Captain Patton, what do you think?”

“I don’t think they’re losing a minute of sleep over it,” Patton said in a ringing voice.

“Why, John?”