Voyage of the Devilfish

“No, sir,” the Duty Officer said, as if it was his fault the Los Angeles-class submarine had remained damaged. “The shipyard was too-blocked with work, sir, and they didn’t get to the Allentown.”

“What’s Allentown got as far as Javelin cruise missiles?” The Duty Officer scanned a computer printout on his clipboard. “Sir, she’s one of the VLS equipped Los Angeles boats. Fully loaded out.”

“Okay,” Donchez said. The Vertical Launch System used on the most recent attack submarines meant that in the forward main ballast tanks twelve vertical torpedo tubes had been installed in a space that would otherwise be wasted. The tubes were loaded with Javelin cruise missiles, freeing up the torpedo room for more torpedoes. Allentown would be loud and rattling with her sail damage, too noisy to trail one of the Russian boats heading for the coastline. That made her a perfect candidate for Donchez’s next idea.

“Okay, Duty Officer. FLASH priority, addressee USS Allentown, currently orbiting in the VACAPES OPAREA. Mark this one Personal for Commanding Officer. Message classification: TOP SECRET — THUNDERBOLT. Message subject: New mission directive. Message body to read: Paragraph one will be the same as for Devilfish, telling Duckett the current situation. Paragraph two: Allentown to transit north to Barents Sea off Russian northern coastline. Use wartime submarine safety lanes to transit north as set forth in the CINCLANTFLEET SIOP WARPLAN. Use maximum speed of advance consistent with ship safety and take a position off of Severomorsk as dictated by the Warplan’s Station Number One—” Rummel looked up sharply. Station One was a hold position for U.S. nuclear submarines directly off Severomorsk Naval Complex, intentionally inside Russia’s territorial waters, a dangerous place for an American sub. “—Paragraph two: Allentown to maintain passive radio communication on VLF and ELF frequencies, on maximum wartime cruise-missile alert. Paragraph three: Javelin cruise-missile targeting shall be in accordance with the SIOP WARPLAN, Military and Naval Base Facilities Priority section. Paragraph four: Continuous alert to be maintained as a precaution against Russian aggression. Allentown shall be within three minutes of Javelin launch at all times. Paragraph five: Vital Allentown remain undetected. Paragraph six: Destroy this message immediately…” It would not do to get captured by the Russians with a message onboard ordering them to violate Russia’s territorial waters. The contingency plan for capture included the immediate destruction of sensitive documents and war plans, but the most sensitive document contained orders to sail covertly inside the 12-mile territorial limit of another country.

“Paragraph seven: Our hope is that you will not be needed. Good luck. Hank. Paragraph eight: Admiral R. Donchez sends.” The Duty Officer read it back. Donchez nodded and the Duty Officer hurried to the radio consoles. Rummel looked at Donchez, speechless. Donchez stared back at him for a moment.

“The best defense is a good offense. Captain.”

MID-ATLANTIC

USS DEVILFISH

Pacino moved through the narrow aisle between the Ship’s Inertial Navigation System binnacle and the NAVSAT receiver cabinet to the navigation alcove in the aftport corner of the control room. The chart was taped to a table below a moveable fluorescent light. Pacino leaned over the table and toyed with a pencil, looking at their track-line heading northeast. Where was the OMEGA? Where exactly was Devilfish He focused on the last fix, obtained by bottom-contour sonar. The BE sonar set pinged and listened to the return on the ocean bottom. Its computer matched the contour under them to a memory of the ocean bottom taken by survey vessels and other submarines. If the sea floor had rocks and valleys and peaks, the fix quality was excellent, putting the ship’s estimated position within a few yards of where it actually was. If the floor was sandy, the ship being tracked could be anywhere.

“We’re the Fuggawee Indians,” the navigator lan Christman said behind him. Which was to say. Where the fugg are we? An old joke. Pacino didn’t laugh.