The Sum of All Fears.pdf - Delta Force

'Okay, okay. I learn lesson,' she promised him.
'Fine. You take care.' Ryan stood.
'Doc Ryan?'
'Yes?'
'Air Force say Buck die in accident. I never ask anybody, but I ask you:
Accident, no accident?'
'Carol, Buck lost his life doing his job, saving lives. I was there. So was Mr
Clark.'
'The ones make Buck die . . . ?'
'You have nothing to fear from them,' Ryan said evenly. 'Nothing at all.' Jack
saw the recognition in her eyes. Though Carol had modest language skills, she'd
caught what he'd meant by his answer.
'Thank you, Doc Ryan. I never ask again, but I must know.'
'It's okay.' He was surprised she'd waited so long.
***
The bulkhead-mounted speaker rattled. 'Conn, sonar. I have a routine noise level
bearing zero-four-seven, designate contact Sierra-5. No further information at
this time. Will advise.'
'Very well.' Captain Ricks turned to the plotting table. 'Tracking party, begin
your TMA.' The Captain looked around the room. Instruments showed a speed of
seven knots, a depth of four hundred feet, and a course of three-zero-three. The
contact was broad on his starboard beam.
The ensign commanding the tracking party immediately consulted the
Hewlett-Packard mini-computer located in the starboard-after corner of the
attack center. 'Okay,' he announced, 'I have a trace angle . . . little shaky .
. . computing now.' That took the machine all of two seconds. 'Okay, I have a
range gate . . . it's a convergence zone, range between three-five and four-five
thousand yards if he's in CZ-1, five-five and six-one thousand yards for CZ-2.'
'It's almost too easy,' the XO observed to the skipper.
'You're right, X, disable the computer,' Ricks ordered.
Lieutenant Commander Wally Claggett, Executive Officer, 'Gold,' USS Maine walked
back to the machine and switched it off. 'We have a casualty to the HP computer
. . . looks like it'll take hours to fix,' he announced. 'Pity.'
'Thanks a lot,' Ensign Ken Shaw observed quietly to the quartermaster hunched
next to him at the chart table.
'Be cool, Mr Shaw,' the petty officer whispered back. 'We'll take care o'ya.
Don't need that thing now anyway, sir.'
'Let's keep it quiet in the attack center!' Captain Ricks observed.
The submarine's course took her northwest. The sonar operators fed information
to the attack center as she did so. Ten minutes later, the tracking party made
its decision.
'Captain,' Ensign Shaw announced. 'Estimate contact Sierra-5 is in the first CZ,
range looks like three-nine thousand yards, course is generally southerly, speed
between eight and ten knots.'
'You can do better than that!' the CO announced sharply.
'Conn, sonar, Sierra-5 looks like Akula-class Soviet fast-attack, preliminary
target ident is Akula number six, the Admiral Lunin. Stand by – ' a moment's