CHAPTER 13 – RUSSIAN TREACHERY
20:16 (New York Time)
Thursday, January 18, 1996 ‘C’
Apartment # 4, 607 West 51st Street
Hell’s Kitchen District, New York City
U.S.A.
‘’…With the destruction of those nuclear weapons, the danger of seeing the United States attacked with such weapons by the Caucasus Islamic Republic has now been effectively eliminated. President Perot has sent this morning a congratulatory message to the men and women serving on the carrier U.S.S. NEPTUNE, from which the strikes against the Azeris and Caucasians came from. Presently, the NEPTUNE is still cruising in the Black Sea and is said by the Pentagon to be actively engaging the Azeri and Caucasian forces which invaded Armenia without provocation a week ago. We apologize to our viewers for our incapacity to show you pictures of the U.S.S. NEPTUNE, as the newest aircraft carrier in the U.S. Navy is still covered in secrecy and since the Pentagon won’t release yet any pictures of the NEPTUNE to the public. On being asked about the ultimate goal of the United States in the present war in the Caucasus, now officially named the ‘Caucasus War’, Secretary of State Inouye declared that the Unites States is demanding the full withdrawal of Azeri and Caucasian forces from inside Armenian territory, the restauration of a legitimate Armenian government and, ultimately, the payment of compensations to Armenia by Azerbaijan and by the Caucasus Islamic Republic as reparations for the extensive destruction caused inside Armenia. As of now, there has been no response to the United States demands by either Azerbaijan or the C.I.R. It should be noted however that the governments of those two countries have been severely disrupted by the American airstrikes against them, with some sources alluding that their leaders have suffered some casualties in those bombardments. When asked about the reaction of other countries in the area to the American strikes, Secretary Inouye said that he had responded this morning to a note of protest from the Russian government, which complained about the American airstrikes, by enjoining it to stay out of that conflict and to instead work to convince Azerbaijan and the C.I.R. to withdraw from Armenian territory. Here in Washington, the members of Congress in both the House and the Senate were nearly unanimous in praising the actions and combat performance of our military in this new conflict, with one notable exception: Senator Ronald Preston of Texas. Senator Preston, who was initially voted in as a member of the Republican Party, has since declared himself as an independent member of Congress with Libertarian ideas and policies. Senator Preston objected yesterday in the Senate about the participation of the United States in the Caucasus War but was quickly and massively rebuffed by the other members of the Senate. Last night, Senator Preston appeared on CBS and called for quote all peace-loving Americans to protest publicly this latest instance of American military interventionism around the World unquote…’’
Nancy, who was watching the evening televised news with Lucy, Sarah, Carmen and Erika, lowered a bit the volume of the television set and shook her head while frowning.
‘’American military interventionism my ass! What a hypocrite that Preston is! It makes one wonder about how that asshole is thinking.’’
Lucy, her sister by adoption and a top-rated violinist, who had been watching the news while glued to Erika Lang, the battery player of their band, then wondered aloud.
‘’What could this Preston hope to gain from espousing such an unpopular view?’’
‘’Don’t try to find some logical reason to his acts, Lucy.’’ Replied Sarah Weissman, a near-prodigy with a piano. ‘’Those kinds of politicians only care about short term opportunities and quick gains. From what I heard around the Juilliard School today, there are quite a few idiots ready to criticize and oppose any military action in the name of peace.’’
‘’In the name of peace…’’ said Nancy in a sarcastic tone. ‘’You can’t have peace when you act like a sheep while a wolf is circling around you. History has proven that many times.’’
That made Carmen Estrada, their guitarist and flute player, smile at Nancy.
‘’You sure know about that, Nancy: you were one of those wolves some 400 years ago, when you were the famous English corsair, Francis Drake.’’
‘’It’s SIR Francis Drake to you, Carmen.’’ Feistily replied Nancy. That attracted a sneaky remark from Erika Lang.
‘’And the Queen of England offered you a knighthood for returning Sir Drake’s body to England and for having been Sir Drake in a previous incarnation. Too bad that American laws do not permit American citizens from accepting such aristocratic titles.’’
‘’But the British still gave me an honorary British citizenship and a passport to go with as a thank you. I was also granted by the present owners of Buckland Abbey, the old manor in Devon which Sir Francis owned in England in the 16th Century, unlimited visiting and staying rights, along with a room reserved for my exclusive use.’’ said Nancy. ‘’That was quite an irony: me getting an honorary British citizenship while Ingrid is still considered by many British as a war criminal for sinking the HMS TIGER during the Palestine Crisis of 1953. The World can be a truly weird place at times.’’
‘’Only at times?’’ replied Lucy.
‘’Alright, alright: most of the time. However, it is that diversity and unpredictability that makes our world an interesting place. Imagine if everybody on this planet had the same tastes, the same ideas and the same opinions: that would be an utterly boring place.’’
‘’True!’’ said Sarah. ‘’But we certainly could use less wars and more peace. By the way, that was not meant to criticize what your mother is doing: Ingrid did the right thing by pushing back against those Azeris and Caucasians, as they were clearly the aggressors in this case. I just wonder if the Russians will dare trying to intervene in that conflict.’’
‘’Well, if they do, then they will regret it quickly enough, Sarah: Ingrid is not shy about distributing lumps around to those who deserve them. Well, should we do a last practice tonight or go to bed early?’’
‘’Let’s call it a night.’’ replied Sarah. ‘’We have individual auditions tomorrow which will count in our final notes, so we should rest tonight.’’
‘’Agreed!’’ said Lucy. ‘’I think that I’m going to have a shower now, then will go to bed.’’
‘’Need someone to scrub your back, Lucy?’’ asked Erika, a closet lesbian, a hopeful smile on her face. Lucy, who was also a closet lesbian, grinned at that request.
‘’Why not? Go get your robe and soap.’’
Carmen Estrada, who was a straight heterosexual but who had grown quite tolerant about lesbianism in other girls, had a chuckle as Lucy and Erika got up from their big sofa and walked out of the lounge.
‘’Life sure isn’t bland around this place.’’
‘’And it shouldn’t be!’’ shot back Nancy, a certified bisexual girl. ‘’You should try a night with a girl one fine day.’’
‘’Er, thank you but no! I feel no attraction towards that kind of relationship. On the other hand, I am starting to despair about finding a truly appealing guy in Juilliard School: most of them are either too wimpy to my taste or are homosexuals. Who would have believed that so many male dancers are gay?’’
‘’Then, look elsewhere, Carmen!’’
‘’I think that I will do just that, Nancy.’’
16:06 (New York Time)
Friday, January 19, 1996 ‘C’
Music Division, Juilliard School
West 65th Street, Manhattan, New York City
Nancy, having finished school for the day and going to her individual locker, situated with dozens of other lockers along the sides of a hallway of the Music Division, met Sarah Weissman on her way and greeted her with a big smile.
‘’Hi, Sarah! How did your audition go?’’
‘’Very well indeed, Nancy: my teacher gave me an ‘A Plus’. And you?’’
‘’The same! My singing teacher told me that I could easily win a big musical award if I ever performed publicly. Maybe we could start giving group performances in a few select little music clubs on Broadway: that would help our group gain some recognition and earn us some money at the same time. God knows how expensive good musical instruments are these days. I…’’
Nancy suddenly stopped talking and froze, forcing Sarah to stop as well. She then looked in the same direction that Nancy was now staring at with growing anger.
‘’Hey! Someone wrote something on your locker.’’
Nancy, followed closely by Sarah, then charged towards her locker, stopping one pace in front of it and reading aloud what had been written on it with a black bold felt pen.
‘’Your mother is a war-mongering bitch…THE FUCKERS! If I catch the one who did this, he or she will regret it!’’
Looking down on both sides of the hallway and seeing a school guard passing by, Nancy loudly called to him, making him turn towards her and walk to her and Sarah.
‘’Yes, miss?’’
‘’I would like to make an official complaint, mister: someone vandalized my locker.’’
The security guard looked at her locker and read the inscription on it, then took out a small notebook and a pen.
‘’This is certainly against school rules, miss. May I see your student I.D. card, so that I could register properly your complaint?’’
‘’Certainly, mister! Here is my card.’’
The guard noted down her name and student I.D. number, then copied on his notebook the graffiti on her locker.
‘’I will advise one of our janitors to come erase this graffiti tonight, miss. Would you know why would someone write this and call your mother a ‘war-monger’?’’
‘’I certainly do, mister: my mother is General Ingrid Dows, the top commander of our armed forces. She is presently fighting in this new Caucasus War.’’
That made the security guard look up from his notebook.
‘’I see! General Dows deserves the respect of all the American people and she certainly has my respect. Be assured that your complaint will be passed promptly to the school’s administration.’’
‘’Thank you, mister: you are quite helpful.’’
‘’My pleasure, miss.’’
As the guard walked away, Sarah gave a concerned look to her friend and band leader.
‘’I hope that the jackal who did this will not persist in harassing you about your mother, Nancy.’’
‘’He better not! If he or she does so and I catch him, he will regret starting this.’’
Nancy then opened her locker and put some of her books inside it while taking out other books already in her locker, so that she could study during the weekend. Doing her best to forget this incident, Nancy then left for her apartment with Sarah and the rest of her band after meeting them in the students’ cafeteria, as per their habit at the end of each school day. However, calming down her anger proved quite difficult for her and she was still simmering when she arrived at her apartment.
10:30 (Western Europe Time)
Monday, January 22, 1996 ‘C’
Flight deck of the U.S.S. NEPTUNE
At anchor in the bay of Rize, Northeast coast of Turkey
Black Sea
The city of Rize and its bay, Turkey.
‘’Another hour or so and we will have completed the reloading of our Mark 95 VLS cells, thanks to those reload missiles brought in via C-90 cargo aircraft, General. One of our fleet tankers is due to join with us here in the early afternoon with some 12,000 tons of jet fuel, while a fleet resupply ship accompanying it will replenish our fresh food supplies. Both of those ships are being escorted in by the destroyer U.S.S. SPRUANCE.’’
‘’Aah, the SPRUANCE!’’ said Ingrid, smiling. ‘’I already visited it, when me and a SEAL team used it as a floating relay base during the mission to rescue a pair of downed aviators in the Caucasus, some four years ago. I saw one of your two assault hovercraft leave the ship some two hours ago, heading for the port of Rize. What business was it on, Admiral?’’
‘’More resupply stuff, General: it went to buy in bulk fresh fruits and vegetable to vary our menu. Its crew was also tasked to get more wine and beer for our various ship’s clubs. On that subject, I must say that this new Navy policy about allowing limited alcohol consumption on ships is going better than I had expected. There has not been a single case of drunkenness to date, something that greatly relieved Master Chief Vernon, who had been expecting the worst.’’
‘’We do have to give more credit to the maturity of your crew and of our marines, Admiral. They are well disciplined people and they are conscious of their responsibilities during this mission.’’
Ingrid then looked towards the open sea to the North of the Turkish city, where a small Turkish warship was patrolling along the coast.
‘’I am a bit worried about our ship’s position being known by the Turks, Admiral. I do understand that we had to ask for their permission before anchoring here, within Turkish territorial waters, but this could have caused a security leak by the Turks, either intentionally or through insufficiently encrypted communications.’’
‘’As you just said, we had no choice but to contact the Turkish Navy before coming here, General, and we needed a protected anchorage in order to reload our VLS magazines with the minimum of ship rolling and pitching.’’
‘’You are right, Admiral but I will still feel better once we will be able to sail again and cruise around in open waters.’’
‘’Me as well, General.’’
The two of them then continued to watch as a group of sailors, supported by a mobile crane, loaded one of the last missile canisters into one of the few empty VLS cells left. The technique used was actually both simple and ingenious. First, the sailors inserted the hinges of a lightweight support cradle into special pivot brackets installed at one edge of the vertical missile cells hidden under the flight deck. A loaded missile canister was then laid flat on the cradle, with the top end of the canister secured to a winch cable. Then, the cradle and missile canister were raised to the vertical by a pneumatic piston, which made the missile canister align vertically with the empty launch cell. Finally, the winch to which the missile canister was attached was activated, lowering the loaded canister down into the waiting launch cell. That reloading system had been adopted by the U.S. Navy years ago, when attempts at reloading ships’ VLS systems at sea were made impossible by the unsupported missile canisters swinging wildly around from under the cranes attempting to load them into their VLS wells, the swinging being due to the ship’s rolling and pitching while at sea and to wind pushing the canisters sideways.
There was now only one missile canister left to load into the forward VLS launch magazine when the P.A. system of the battle carrier came alive.
‘’ADMIRAL BENSON TO THE C.I.C.! ADMIRAL BENSON TO THE C.I.C., PLEASE!’’
‘’Oops! Sounds like we may have an emergency on our hands.’’ said Benson before starting to run across the deck to get to the nearby stern superstructure tower. Ingrid easily followed his pace, arriving at the tower’s access hatch just behind him. Once inside, Benson led her at a run down to the ship’s Combat Information Center, or C.I.C., arriving there after some six minutes. While Benson was huffing a bit and had sweat on his forehead, Ingrid looked still as fresh as a rose, something that Benson noticed.
‘’You are in a good physical shape, General.’’
‘’I exercise every day, Admiral. But let’s see why you were called.’’
‘’Right!’’
Going to join his operations officer next to the large tactical plot table of the C.I.C., Benson looked down at the plot while asking a question.
‘’What do we have, Commander Carpenter?’’
‘’One of our two patrolling PELICAN ‘B’ anti-submarine aircraft has just located via passive sonar listening an approaching diesel submarine, which is now at a distance of about 73 nautical miles from us to the Northwest of our position. Since there could be more submarines approaching, I have ordered an extra pair of PEL’ICAN ‘B’s to launch, so that we could thoroughly check the ocean area around us. There is more: our C-21MP on patrol over the Black Sea has detected a group of five warships coming from the Crimean peninsula and heading towards Rize at high speed. From their radar signatures, we were able to identify those ships as one SLAVA-Class missile cruiser, two KRIVAK-Class missile frigates and two TARANTUL III-Class missile boats, all belonging to the Russian Black Sea Fleet.’’
‘’And the one submarine we have detected to date?’’
‘’It is a KILO-Class diesel attack submarine. The problem with it is that, while the Russian Black Sea Fleet owns a number of KILO submarines, the Caucasian Navy also has a number of KILO submarines, which it inherited from the Soviet Union when the U.S.S.R. broke up. That submarine could thus be either Russian or Caucasian, Admiral.’’
‘’I see! If it is a Caucasian-owned submarine, then we can expect it to try to torpedo us. However, if it is a Russian-owned KILO and we attack it, then those approaching Russian warships will have the perfect excuse for firing missiles at us. That is a dangerous game that the Russians are playing here.’’
‘’What if this is not a game, but rather a coordinated plan between the Russian and Caucasian navies to sink us, Admiral?’’ then said Ingrid, having just had a mental flash. ‘’Let’s say that those surface warships are indeed Russian but that this approaching submarine is a Caucasian one. If we don’t fire at them out of political restraint, then that KILO submarine will be able to approach us and torpedo us while we are at anchor and vulnerable. However, if we fire at the submarine, the Russians will be able to accuse us of firing first at them. Another point: I doubt that this KILO submarine is the only one approaching us. Such a coordinated attack plan by the Russians and Caucasians would plainly justify using everything that the Caucasian Navy has in terms of submarines, plus many submarines would render their attack plan that much more effective.’’
Benson’s face hardened when he saw the logic in Ingrid’s exposé and he looked at his operation officer to ask an urgent question to him.
‘’Commander, how many submarines does the Caucasian Navy possess in the Black Sea?’’
Carpenter consulted quickly a booklet taken out of a drawer of the plot table before answering Benson in a tense tone of voice.
‘’The Caucasian Navy has a total of four KILO-Class submarines in the Black Sea, one of which is known to be in refit at their base of Novorossiysk, Admiral.’’
‘’Then, Admiral, expect that you may well have up to three Caucasian KILO attack submarines approaching the Turkish coast, on top of those five Russian ships. I would counsel strongly that we immediately advise the Turks about this, so that they could react to this. It is after all their territorial waters which are now under threat.’’
‘’Agreed, General. However, I have no intention to stay here at anchor while those warships and submarine are coming in. Commander Carpenter, have our anchors raised and put us out to sea on silent running while calling the crew to action stations. Also, have the signals officer warn the Turkish Navy headquarters about these approaching hostiles.’’
‘’Aye, Admiral!’’
As orders were being passed around the C.I.C., Ingrid looked at Benson and spoke to him in a low voice.
‘’Is there something I could do while your ship prepares for combat, Admiral. I hate to be standing around and do nothing when fighting breaks up.’’
Benson thought for a moment before nodding his head.
‘’Major Barstow is still at the infirmary and his RF-95N is thus available. Take off as quickly as you can, then go overfly the Russian fleet and be prepared to jam their radars on my order.’’
‘’Thank you, Admiral!’’ replied Ingrid in a happy tone before running out of the C.I.C.
11:08 (Western Europe Time)
PELICAN ‘B’ anti-submarine aircraft
Floating on the surface of the Black Sea while dipping its sonar
Ensign Jennifer Wells, manning the sonar station of her PELICAN ‘B’, suddenly tensed up and concentrated while listening to what her dunking sonar, dipped some forty meters under her floating aircraft, was hearing in passive mode. KILO-Class diesel attack submarine.
‘’Lieutenant, I have something on the sonar! I hear screw noises passing to our right. It is definitely a submarine.’’
‘’Can you identify the type, Jennifer?’’
‘’One moment, please!... Its acoustic signature is that of an IMPROVED KILO-Class submarine, Lieutenant.’’
‘’Good job, Jennifer. I will advise the NEPTUNE about this new submarine and will also get ready to track and attack it. In the meantime, do your best to establish its azimuth, depth, course and speed.’’
‘’On it, Lieutenant!’’
Some ten minutes later, as Jennifer had a firm lock on the KILO submarine, Lieutenant Jones’ voice came on the intercom.
‘’Listen up, guys, this is getting serious: a third submarine has just been located, approaching the Bay of Rize. This is a full-scale submarine ambush being put in place against the NEPTUNE. However, those submarines will soon be quite disappointed: our battle carrier has now left Rize under silent running conditions and has started to trail its toward array sonar.’’
Jennifer briefly chuckled on hearing that, imagining the faces of those submarine captains when they would discover that they were now the hunted, rather than the hunters. Silent running mode for the U.S.S. NEPTUNE meant that it would be sailing only on the electrical power provided by its secondary diesel generators, rather than by its four nuclear reactors. With those nuclear reactors basically shut down and silent and with the secondary diesel generators mounted on acoustically-insulated rafts high above the waterline, the battle carrier, already nearly impossible to detect via radar from long distance, would also be next to completely silent for any sonar operator working in passive mode.
With the NEPTUNE also in the habit during the last week to operate in electronic silence mode, using only passive infra-red and electronic sensors, Jennifer doubted very much that the enemy would be the one gaining the effect of surprise today.
There was also another surprise in store for the approaching submarines, which were now well inside the Turkish exclusive maritime zone in the Black Sea. Alerted by the U.S.S. NEPTUNE, a fleet of Turkish submarine chasers and patrol aircraft and helicopters were now rushing towards the locations provided to them by the NEPTUNE. As the three KILO submarines were arriving at their planned ambush positions off Rize, just outside of the Turkish territorial waters, Turkish helicopters were either already starting to dip their dunking sonars or were about to arrive on the scene. On the SLAVA-Class cruiser MOSKVA, Admiral Pushnikov was pulling his hair out on seeing that the plan carefully orchestrated and coordinated with the Caucasian Navy was about to fall to pieces.
‘’Chyort{29}! I can’t fire on those Turkish helicopters! Our orders are not to start a war with the Turks! Do we finally have that damn NEPTUNE on our radars?’’
‘’Negative, Admiral. It is still as invisible as a ghost and we are not detecting any electronic emissions from it.’’
Pushnikov then banged his right fist on the ledge of his tactical plot table: there was now nothing he could do but either watch or turn around and return to his base in Crimea.
In the control room of the Caucasian submarine KRASNODAR, its captain ordered his telescope to be raised to the surface, so that he could visually acquire the U.S.S. NEPTUNE, which his sonar operators had not succeeded in locating by sound. Assuming that this was because the NEPTUNE was still at anchor, with its machinery shut down, the submarine captain waited until his periscope was fully up, then glued his eyes to the eyepieces of the optical instrument. To his utter surprise, the second-in-command of the KRASNODAR saw his captain suddenly jerk violently while jumping back from his periscope.
‘’Captain? What…’’
His captain had a near-panicked expression on his face and his eyes were bulging when he answered his second-in-command with a shout.
‘’THERE’S AN HELICOPTER OVERHEAD, IN HOVER MODE! FULL AHEAD, TURN AROUND TO HEADING 348!’’
As his crew scrambled to obey him, a depth charge intentionally set to detonate deeper than the submarine actually was exploded, severely shaking the KRASNODAR and also making it rise up by a few meters, enough to make the top of its kiosk break through the surface. The crew of the Turkish helicopter was then able to visually see the Caucasian markings on the side of the submarine’s kiosk, an information it passed at once by radio to its headquarters. With no love lost lately between the C.I.R. and Turkey, the local Turkish commander then authorized his helicopter to sink the submarine, which had mistakenly strayed by about fifty meters inside Turkish territorial waters. With the door gunner of the helicopter hovering next to the KRASNODAR opening fire with his 20mm cannon and piercing holes in the kiosk of the submarine, the latter found itself in a dire situation indeed. Another depth charge was dropped next to the KRASNODAR but, this time, it was set to the right depth and exploded immediately next to its hull, caving it in and creating a big leak. With its engine room flooding and his batteries starting to produce toxic acid fumes, the captain of the KRASNODAR saw no other option but to surrender and evacuate his sinking submarine. However, the Turkish gunner showed a bit too much enthusiasm in peppering the submarine with his cannon and killed a few crewmembers who were trying to get out of their submarine before a shouted order from the helicopter pilot made him stop shooting. Thankfully for the Caucasian submariners who managed to escape and jump into the water, two Turkish fast patrol boats soon arrived on the scene to fish them out of the Black Sea.
The captain of another Caucasian submarines, the KOLPINO, made an even greater mistake when he saw a Turkish submarine chaser approach at full speed and, thinking that it was an attack boat launched by the NEPTUNE, fired one of his ShKval super-cavitation torpedoes at it. Coming out of its torpedo tube at a speed already attaining nearly fifty knots, the ShKval then quickly accelerated to its top speed of over 200 knots. Being basically a straight-running, super-fast torpedo, the ShKval sped to the approaching Turkish sub-chaser boat in only a few seconds and hit Russian ShKval super-cavitating torpedo
its bow, the kinetic force of the impact being enough for the torpedo to penetrate the hull deeply before exploding. The unfortunate Turkish boat then disintegrated from the inside, blown apart by the torpedo.
One of the PELICAN ‘B’ of the NEPTUNE which had first located the KOLPINO could at first only look on in horror at the destruction of the Turkish boat. Its pilot then radioed to the NEPTUNE to pass urgently that info. The response he got made him give an order by intercom to his weapons officer, sitting in the cabin behind him.
‘’JEFF, SINK THAT FUCKING SUBMARINE! WE GOT A ‘WEAPONS FREE’ FROM THE NEPTUNE.’’
‘’With pleasure, John!’’ replied Jeff Zelnik before arming and dropping a homing anti-submarine torpedo into the water. That torpedo found the KOLPINO in seconds after its active sonar seeker activated and then sped towards the submarine which was now attempting to flee towards its base on the opposite shore of the Black Sea. The KOLPINO could not go far before the torpedo from the PELICAN ‘B’ hit its propeller and exploded. With its propeller destroyed and with water flooding its aft section, the captain of the KOLPINO had no choice left but to blow his ballasts and get to the surface in a hurry. There, it managed to stay afloat with a severe list to aft, its crew having reacted fast enough to seal the hatches to its flooded aft compartment.