The Sum of All Fears.pdf - Delta Force

***
'Sir, it's continuing to close. The torpedo is probably in acquisition –
continuous pinging now.'
'Less than two thousand yards,' Ricks said.
'Yeah,' Claggett agreed.
'Try some more countermeasures – hell, go continuous on them.' The tactical
situation was getting worse. Maine was not moving quickly enough to make an
evasive course worthwhile. The countermeasures filled the sea with bubbles, and
while they might draw the Russian torpedo into a turn – their only real hope –
the sad fact of the matter was that as the fish penetrated the bubbles it would
find Maine with its sonar again. Perhaps a continuous set of such false targets
would saturate the seeker. That was their best shot right now.
'Let's keep her near the surface,' Ricks added. Claggett looked at him and
nodded in understanding.
'Not working, sir . . . sir, I've lost the fish aft, in the baffles now.'
'Surface the ship,' Ricks called. 'Emergency blow!'
'Surface capture?'
'And now I'm out of ideas, X.'
'Come left, parallel to the seas?'
'Okay, you do it.'
Claggett went into control. 'Up 'scope!' He took a quick look, and checked the
submarine's course. 'Come right to new course zero-five-five!'
USS Maine surfaced for the last time into thirty-five foot seas and nearly total
darkness. Her circular hull wallowed in the rolling waves, and she was slow to
turn.
The countermeasures were a mistake. Though the Russian torpedo was pinging, it
was mainly a wake-follower. Its seeker head tracked bubbles, and the string of
countermeasures made for a perfect trail, which suddenly stopped. When Maine
surfaced, the submarine left the bubble stream. Again, the factors involved were
technical. The surface turbulence confused the wake-following software and the
torpedo began its programmed circular search pattern, just under the surface. On
its third circuit, it found an unusually hard echo amid the confusing shapes
over its head. The torpedo turned to close, now activating its
magnetic-influence fusing system. The Russian weapon was less sophisticated than
the American Mark 50. It could not go higher than twenty meters of depth and so
was not drawn up to the surface. The active magnetic field it generated was cast
out like an invisible spiderweb, and when that net was disturbed by the presence
of a metallic mass –
The thousand-kilo warhead exploded fifty feet from Maine's already crippled
stern. The twenty-thousand-ton warship shook as though rammed.
An alarm sounded instantly: 'Flooding flooding flooding in the engine room!'
Ricks lifted the phone. 'How bad?'
'Get everybody off, sir!'
'Abandon ship! Break out the survival gear! Send out message: damaged and
sinking, give our position!'
***
'Captain Rosselli! Flash traffic coming in.'