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SEA OF SHADOWS 143
torpedoes of U-305, and it couldn’t continue east, toward the torpedoes of
U-306. It certainly wouldn’t turn north, back toward datum—the last
known position of the submarine threat. The carrier would turn south,
toward the only safe sector that it could identify. And that would be the
aircraft carrier’s final mistake.
USS Kitty Hawk:
“Holy mother of God,” said Commander Ortiz in a quiet voice.
Flashing red hostile-torpedo symbols were popping up all over the tactical
display—five of them so far. While he watched, a sixth enemy torpedo
appeared.
Blue friendly-torpedo symbols began springing up as the ships
conducted counterattacks against the submarines. At the moment, no one
held sonar contact on any of the subs, so the ships were reduced to firing
down the bearings of the incoming torpedoes.
The sub-surface part of the tactical plot was a few seconds behind real
time. The carrier was too noisy to carry its own sonar, so it had to rely on
the sonar systems of its escorts. It took a few seconds for symbols and
updates to percolate through the Tactical Data Link, which meant that
every torpedo that appeared on the screen had been in the water for at least
two or three seconds by the time the computer assigned it a symbol.
“This is going to hell in a hand basket,” Admiral Joiner said. “Tell the
bridge to take us up to flank speed and get us the hell out of here.”
Commander Ortiz looked up at the tactical display. “We’re at flank
speed now, sir. Which way do we run?”
“South!” the admiral said. “It’s the only clear vector. Turn us south,
now!”
Ortiz relayed the admiral’s orders to the bridge and then returned his
eyes to the tactical display as the big ship began to come about. “We’re
being herded,” he said. “We’re being systematically isolated from our
screening units.”
The admiral nodded. “Just what I was thinking,” he said. “But I don’t
see where we have a lot of options at the moment. We sure as hell can’t
turn back toward those torpedoes!”