SSN

    A few minutes later the helo was active again. The WLR-9's acoustic intercept receiver at the conn picked that one up also, even though it was near the baffles.

    "Conn, sonar, that was a loud one, sir," the sonar supervisor said.

    Mack smiled. "She must have recharged, ne saia, in a deadpan voice. "Designate the helo Master 27."

    "Conn, sonar, she got us on that one, sir-but that's not all she painted! Captain, we've got another submarine out there, a Kilo class, one six-bladed screw, making turns for ten knots. It's bearing 025, near the same bearing as the Romeo. It's been hiding from us all this time."

    All humor was gone from the conn. Considering their situation, Mack was pleased with how well his officers and crew were handling the sudden tension. Not aware they had regained old Master 24, the Kilo was designated Master 28.

    Cheyenne had just been pinged on by a directly overhead Chinese ASW helicopter, which had undoubtedly received an exact fix on their present location five hundred feet below the surface. The helo would now probably be making an MAD (magnetic anomaly detection) pass to confirm Cheyenne^ position. Mack was concerned that they would follow that up by dropping a torpedo directly on top of Cheyenne.

    "Conn, sonar, the Kilo, Master 28, just picked up speed. It's heading directly at us, making turns for seventeen knots. It must suspect that the helo gave their position away."

    "What's the range to the Kilo?" Mack asked the fire-control coordinator.

    "Twenty-four thousand yards. Captain. We're within ADCAP range for the Kilo-it's making lots of noise at seventeen knots. Recommend making tubes one and two ready."

    Mack nodded and initiated Firing Point Procedures on Master 28. "Torpedo room, fire control, make tubes one and two ready in all respects. Open the outer doors."

    The order was acknowledged. One minute later it was confirmed. "Tubes one and two are ready in all respects, sir. Outer doors have been opened." "Sonar, conn, stand by." "Conn, sonar, standing by."

    "Match sonar bearings and shoot tube one, Master 28."

    "Match sonar bearings and shoot tube one, Master 28, aye, sir."

    Mack then came right to clear the datum.

    "Tube one fired electrically," the combat system officer reported. That was as far as he got. Before he could report on the torpedo's status, the sonar supervisor spoke up.

    "Conn, sonar, torpedo in the water bearing 180! It's a Chinese Mk 46 copy, Mod 2." Mack had been correct in assigning the helo a Master number, which were usually reserved for potential threats to Cheyenne herself, or to targets of significant intelligence value.

    "Cut the wire and shut the outer door," ordered the captain. "Reload tube one." Mack was throwing away his torpedo, and he knew it. The Kilo was too far away and maneuvering. The Mk 48 would probably not be able to acquire on its own, but right now Mack had a different torpedo to worry about.

    "Left full rudder, all ahead flank, steady course 305," Mack ordered. "Cavitate. Make your depth 750 feet." He waited for acknowledgment and then added, "Rig ship for depth charge."

    Cheyenne's power plant was now running at peak capacity in an attempt to get away from the deadly torpedo racing their way.

    "Conn, sonar, another torpedo in the water. Master 27 just dropped a second Mk 46 on us, bearing 245."

    "Release a noisemaker," Mack ordered.

    Confirmation was quick. "Noisemaker away."

    Cheyenne^ top speed was nearly forty knots. The two torpedoes chasing her were knifing through the water at forty knots, but Mack wasn't worried. Not yet, anyway. Sonar reported the Chinese torpedoes bearing 268 and bearing 187. If Mack maintained his course and speed, the torpedoes would both run out of fuel before they closed the distance.

    The problem was that, at flank speed, Cheyenne was maKing more noise, one was annum mug 11^1 i,Aavi iwu-tion to every nearby sonar device. On top of that, she was making enough noise that she could barely hear anything around her.

    Mack knew that in order to outrun the torpedoes, they would need to keep running at this speed, blind to anything but the noisy torpedoes, for at least another five thousand yards.

    That was when Cheyenne caught her first break. "Conn, sonar," the sonar supervisor reported, "the first torpedo just fell for the noisemaker. It's off our tail."

    "Sonar, conn, what about torpedo number two?" Mack asked.

    "Conn, sonar, it's at the edge of our port baffle." There was a brief pause and then the sonar supervisor added, "It just went active. Captain."

    "Release another noisemaker." "Releasing noisemaker, aye, sir." The tension level slowly mounted. "Conn, sonar," the sonar supervisor announced, "the Mk 46 just latched on to the noisemaker decoy… lost the torpedo in our baffles!"

    Mack nodded. The Mk 46s were fast, but they were easily fooled.

    "I guess those noisemakers reaily do work," one of the sonar operators said to the operator sitting beside him.

    "Ahead one third," Mack ordered. He wanted to run slower until he knew what was going on around him.