Shadow Flight

The sonarman stole a glance at Esteban as the thin attack scope slid into position. The Cuban captain only frowned, then looked blankly at the deck. He despised the arrogant Russian, but he had adjusted to the fact that the Soviet Union supplied the submarines and the expertise.

The Russian grasped the periscope handles and swung the scope around the horizon, stopping on the large contact. "It's a carrier-an American troop carrier!"

Esteban flinched inwardly, catching the frightened sailors looking at him for some indication of command.

The Soviet officer moved the periscope slightly to the left, then reversed to the right, scanning both sides of the big warship. "I hold three frigates," he said quietly, "and one… destroyer. Down scope." The relentless officer watched the periscope retract, then turned to Esteban. "You will give the order to fire, comrade captain."

THE WASP (LHD-1)

The amphibious assault carrier, steaming at 20 knots, was preparing to land a flight of four Marine AV-8B Harrier II jets. The vertical/ short takeoff and landing (VSTOL) attack aircraft, seven miles astern, were approaching the Wasp at 400 knots.

Two S-3B Viking antisubmarine warfare (ASW) aircraft, supplemented by three LAMPS III ASW helicopters, orbited around the carrier at varying distances. The four escort ships bracketed the Wasp on all points. Two frigates were deployed on each side of the carrier, along with a frigate 2,000 yards in front of the bow. A single destroyer followed the assault ship at a distance of 1,600 yards. High above the carrier, thirty-five miles off the port and starboard bow, two flights of F-14D Tomcats patrolled the sky.

Wasp's combat information center, tracking multiple targets close to Cuban shores, had been working closely with the E-2C Hawkeye from Kitty Hawk's VAW-123 squadron. The Hawkeye was due to be relieved on station in twelve minutes.

Wasp's CIC came to life when one of the LAMPS III ASW helicopters radioed a report. "Crossbow, Cold Water Three has a contact," the pilot said in an excited voice. "We're coming around for another pass, but we had a solid contact."

"Roger, Cold Water Three," the CIC officer replied as he sounded general quarters. "Drop a marker and stand clear."

"Ah… roger," the pilot radioed, searching the water around and below the helicopter. "Cold Water Three is marking… solid contact… confirmed."

Less than five seconds passed before the ASW pilot shouted and pointed below. His copilot saw the periscope a second later. "We have a periscope! We have a scope below us!"

The CIC officer glanced at the two large screens in front of his console. "Sea Wolf Seven One Two cleared for a drop. Repeat, Sea Wolf Seven One Two cleared for a live drop. Warning Red, Weapons Free."

"Copy, copy," the S-3B Viking pilot radioed. "Tally on the smoke. We're comin' downhill."

"Roger," the CIC officer replied as the Wasp and her escort ships assumed battle stations. "Call the drop."

"Seven-twelve," the Viking pilot replied as he lined up slightly upwind from the smoke.

THE GENERAL ALVAREZ

Captain Ricardo Esteban squinted through the attack periscope. The American assault carrier would be at the optimum torpedo attack position in less than half a minute.

Esteban, aware of the KGB officer standing behind him, wiped perspiration from his glistening forehead. The interior temperature of the Soviet submarine was approaching eighty-three degrees Fahrenheit.

"Stand by to fire on my command," Esteban ordered, tracking the carrier. He rotated the periscope quickly to check the horizon around the battle group, then stopped in panic when he saw the canister. It was eighty meters off the starboard bow, pumping out billowing clouds of bright yellow smoke.

"Smoke!" Esteban said, swinging the periscope forward. They're on us!" The crew tensed as the Russian exchanged a concerned glance with the Cuban captain.

"Down scope!" Esteban ordered, backing away from the attack periscope as if it were a ghost. "Dive! Dive!"

"Negative!" the Russian countermanded sharply. "Negative! Up scope!"

The Soviet officer grasped the periscope handles firmly, made a slight adjustment, then waited patiently. "Fire One!" the tense, sweating KGB officer ordered, then looked at the firing board lights. The bright green launch light winked on.

A second elapsed before the General Alvarez shuddered as the powerful torpedo shot out of the flooded tube. "Fire Two!" the Russian barked. "Down scope, dive! Dive! Right full rudder! All ahead flank!" The Soviet officer shot Esteban a contemptuous glance, cold and accusing. "Rig for depth charges."

SEA WOLF 712

"We have screws! We've got contacts!" the Viking sensor operator shouted over the intercom system. "Two targets confirmed… ah, shit-tracking the carrier!"

"We've got torpedoes!" the pilot broadcast as he prepared to drop two depth charges. "Two targets tracking Wasp!"

The pilot of the twin-jet submarine killer, figuring that the submerged enemy would turn away from the carrier battle group, lined up his pass.