SSN

    "Rig ship for depth charge," Mack ordered.

    The mortars were a bad idea. Their explosions did not reach Cheyenne-in fact, they posed a greater risk to the Ming patrolling closer to the frigate. What's more, rather than harming Cheyenne, they actually helped her. With the loud explosions masking all other sounds-including preventing Cheyenne from learning whether her torpedoes had found their marks-Mack ordered flank speed as he turned to run from the Chinese task group.

    Two hours later, with Cheyenne clear of the area and out of danger, her floating wire confirmed that her presence in the area was no longer a secret-but she had announced herself in fine fashion. Three of her four torpedoes had hit their targets, costing the Chinese a frigate and a Ming class submarine.

    Along with this information came Cheyenne's previous orders: continue with the rendezvous with Independence, still some six hundred miles from Cheyenne's current position.

    Mack was pleased with both the intelligence and the orders, but he knew that they'd have to be even more cautious from now on. Cheyenne was no longer a secret, and she was wearing the enemy's blood. Every available Chinese ASW asset would be hunting for Cheyenne and attempting to kill her.

    But they'd have to find her first, and then they'd have to catch her. And Cheyenne ran fast. Her mission was now to reach Independence-which, at her current speed of twenty-five knots, and allowing for the sprint-and-drift technique, would take about fifteen hours.

    Mack secured from battle stations and the rig for depth charge, and then settled in for the transit to Independence.

    With Cheyenne running at twenty-five knots four hundred feet beneath the surface of the South China Sea, Mack had time to wonder about his decision to attack the Chinese frigate and submarine. Had he been too aggressive? The captain suddenly felt both guilt and vulnerability for attacking the task group. There had been other, more stealthy alternatives, and perhaps he should have taken them.

    This was one of the dangers of post-action letdown. Too many people used that time to play the "what if?" game and to second-guess their own decisions. What if Cheyenne had been damaged? he thought to himself. After all, his main objective was to reach Independence safely, not attack enemy warships. Independence could easily have handled that task group herself.

    In addition to the risk of the encounter. Mack knew that he had cost Cheyenne the element of surprise. She was known, now, and being hunted. Perhaps it would have been a better idea to silently drift alongside the Chinese task group, obtain the required intelligence, and then head for the carrier.

    These questions troubled him as he prepared to proceed to periscope depth to get information concerning Independence.

    "Conn, sonar," the sonar supervisor reported, "the towed-array picked up a helicopter overhead. We can tell it's a helo because of the high turbine rpm."

    Hearing this, Mack ordered an immediate excursion to 325 feet, He soon heard the ping of the helicopter's active dipping sonar through Cheyenne's hull, and the sound sent chills up his spine. He began to worry, once again, about the wisdom of his earlier decision to attack the Chinese task group.

    "Conn, sonar, we just detected a submarine on the surface. It's beginning to submerge!"

    Mack remanned battle stations. The atmosphere in the sonar room grew very tense as everyone waited for the next contact evaluation. It wasn't long in coming, and it wasn't good news.

    "Conn, sonar, we've got another contact," reported the sonar supervisor. "This one sounds like a Romeo. It must have been waiting for us, playing dead in the water, because we didn't hear it before the active sonar from that helo."

    Sonar designated the helo as sonar contact Sierra 179. Mack designated the Romeo as Master 21.

    Antisubmarine helicopters were always a danger. They were hard for submarines to detect, and their dipping sonars and sonobuoys could provide enemy forces with valuable data on the location of Cheyenne. And that was exactly what this one seemed to be doing.

    And if the helicopter was within its torpedo range, Mack realized, they could also drop a torpedo in the water. That would definitely ruin our day, he thought.

    "Range to the Romeo, Master 21, is seventeen thousand yards, bearing 025," the fire-control coordinator reported.

    "Sonar, conn, what's the classification on the one that just submerged?" Mack asked.

    "Conn, sonar, it sounds like another Romeo. It sounds closer, bearing 027, sir. Designate Master 22?"

    The BSY-I operators quickly determined that two enemy submarines were five thousand yards from one another. Cheyenne, it turned out, was on a bearing directly between them, the reciprocal bearing 206 if they detected her.

    At that moment, the helicopter's dipping sonar was active again, and this time it was directly overhead.