Dmz this is the future o.., p.34
DMZ: This is the Future of War (Future War Book 7), page 34
Lomax started. So the small trimaran drone had weathered the nuclear storm somehow. “Where away?” he asked, raising his voice painfully so the man could hear him.
“Systems still coming online, sir,” the man reported. “I should have a …” He frowned. “The Sea Hunter is still in search mode, sir…”
Was it possible? The drone had survived the nuclear blast, the EMP that followed it, and kept executing its last order: to search for the Gorae?
As their radar came back online, his radar officer confirmed the contact. “Contact on radar at that position. IFF checks out. It’s our Sea Hunter all right.”
“Pull its contact log. It may have logged a contact on that Gorae while we were offline,” Lomax said. It was a long shot, but …
“Bullseye,” the subsurface warfare officer exclaimed. “Contact logged one hour three minutes ago, contact lost 23 minutes ago, contact classified Gorae 2 class, boat ID 9.9 Hero. Bearing 248 degrees from Cody’s current position, heading 189 degrees, speed 12 knots.”
“And the Sea Hunter is in passive search mode, operating along the contact’s heading?”
“Sea Hunter automatically matched heading and speed, sir, based on last known contact data. It’s lost contact now, but unless the Gorae changed course, it should be right on top of it. I’d say chances of reacquiring are low, but not negligible.”
Lomax smiled, despite himself. They might be down, but they weren’t out. If they could find the North Korean sub, someone else could kill it. “Comms, how long until we can contact Bougainville?”
“Initializing comms now, sir,” the comms officer reported. “Could be five minutes, could be more, depending on interference south of here.”
Every minute they wasted, the fleeing submarine got farther away from its last known position, and the chances they would find it decreased. Cody had killed the boat that had put a hole in her bow. Lomax dearly hoped their Sea Hunter could assist in sending to the bottom of the Sea of Japan the boat that had tried to drown them too.
The boat that fired nuclear missiles at Sangeo Shoal was not fleeing at all. It had in fact just successfully risen to communication depth, raised its antenna without being detected, downloaded communications and uploaded a status report.
Unaware of the small drone shadowing it on the surface, oblivious to all other events in the world above, it had returned below the sea’s thermal layer and begun executing the second phase of its mission.
The vertical launch tubes in its conning tower sail had been emptied of water. From horizontal loading belts forward and aft of the sail the Hero’s crew was manhandling two more ballistic missiles into the erector mechanism that would lift and lock them into place inside the sail, ready for the Hero to fire its second and last salvo.
The target: Andersen Air Force Base, Guam.
The USS Cody’s own cat and mouse game with the Gorae-class submarine had begun again, but this time its Sea Hunter drone ship was simply one element in a massive anti-submarine hunt involving assets from across the 7th Fleet.
As the only anti-submarine capable surface element available in the search zone, however, it had a central role to play. Four Defiant helos from the Bougainville had been the first to join it. They had immediately begun operations with dipping sonar along the last known position and course of the ballistic missile submarine. With their sonars in passive acquisition mode, they were listening for any man-made sound where no sound should be.
Above them and flying an ellipse about ten miles from the same point of contact, was an MQ-25 ASW drone from the carrier USS Gerald R. Ford, dropping an outer picket of sonar buoys which were actively pinging. Floating both on the surface and with tethered subsurface emitters a hundred feet down, they could cover the ocean around them to a depth of several hundred feet. They were being dropped not so much in the expectation they would detect the Gorae, but that it would hear them, and stay penned within the picket area rather than risk revealing itself.
Moving in to assist them were two Arleigh Burke-class destroyers from Ford’s carrier task force. Though they had powerful sonar systems themselves, they were too far away still to be of any use in the immediate search. Their role for now was as anti-ballistic missile platforms. If a missile launch was detected by any of the platforms in the area, the missile launch point and trajectory would be relayed immediately to both of the Arleigh Burke destroyers by a Sentinel intelligence, surveillance and recon (ISR) aircraft orbiting overhead and they would try to intercept the missiles during their vulnerable boost phase. Lomax knew that in recent testing against live – not simulated – launches, where the destroyers were not using their own Aegis radars at the moment of launch, their chances of an interception were under 60 percent.
Which then led to the role of Cody’s Sea Hunter, which was also actively pinging with its trailing sonar now. The Sea Hunter was moving north–south within the search area, trying to drive the Gorae to one side or the other where the Defiants with their near-silent dipping sonars would have a better chance of picking it up.
The urgency of their task had only increased when his intelligence officer had reported back to him with a sitrep. Lomax had asked him to get onto naval intelligence Busan and pull any reports he felt were relevant to their current mission.
“I have the sitrep, sir,” the man said, standing with a sheaf of paper in hand. “Do you want…”
“Give me the raw intel please, Ensign,” Lomax said, holding out his hand. The man pulled several pages out and handed them over.
Lomax scanned them quickly. They were organized by source: Satellite, Open Source, Image Analysis, Electronic intelligence.
SATINT: Massive increase in communications traffic Chinese PLA Northern Command indicative of full scale mobilization. Higher than normal levels all other commands. Massive increase in communications traffic North Korean armed force nets but full scale mobilization not observed.
SATINT: Massive increase in traffic milnets Japan, Taiwan, Philippines, Australia aligned with known alert status. China PLA Northern Command increase in traffic 79th Army HQ only, indicates units moving to forward positions on the Yalu River. PLA Navy aircraft carriers Type 1 (Yellow Sea), 2 (Pacific, Solomon Islands) and 3 (Sea of Japan) showing course corrections toward Korean Peninsula.
SATINT: Contact confirmed with White Glove task force vessels vicinity Sangeo Shoal: Bougainville, Point Loma, Marado. Contact lost with vessel Cody, last known position 37.62484982846667, 130.85860663260792, north Sangeo Shoal.
OSINT: South Korea President Si-min Shin still unaccounted for after attack on Panmunjom. South Korea Prime Minister Tae Hyun Choi assassinated during telecast after being named by South Korea State Council as interim President.
IMINT: Thermal imaging (attached) shows a) launch heat blooms, origin 37.950437030594195, 130.93551099105247, spacing indicative North Korea Gorae 2 class submarine, 9.9 Hero. Detonation blooms, 37.49857173040829 30.8695931659646 (Sangeo Shoal) and 37.611796416727834, 130.8695931659646 (North of Sangeo Shoal).
ELINT: NKN base Ch’aho sending encrypted message on continuous repeat on ballistic missile submarine frequency.
Lomax’s attention jumped to two details from the reports. First, Space Force analysts had made a better than educated guess that they were submarine-launched nukes from a North Korean Gorae 2-class boat. Lomax and crew had concluded as much, but now it was confirmed. Second, North Korea’s ballistic missile submarine base was urgently trying to get a message to one or more of its boats.
What were the chances that message was intended for the Gorae they were hunting?
“You get the specs on that Gorae?” Lomax asked, looking up. Not an anti-submarine warfare officer, he didn’t have the details of every sub in every navy memorized by heart.
“Yes, sir,” the man said. “The 9.9 Hero carries four ballistic missiles. Two stored upright in the sail, ready for launch, and two stored in horizontal magazines fore and aft.”
“So they have another shot in the locker,” Lomax said. “Reload time?”
The man consulted his printout. “Unconfirmed, estimated around three hours. They can reload while submerged.”
Lomax looked at his watch. “We’d better find that damn boat quickly, then. Thank you, Ensign.”
Lomax had once been based at Faslane, in Scotland, and some British officers had invited him to hunt grouse with them. The shooters waited behind ‘butts’ or hides on the moor with their shotguns, and on the other side of the fields, ‘beaters’ with dogs and large sticks moved toward the shooters, thrashing the undergrowth. Driven into the air by the beaters, the grouse flew straight down the barrels of the shooters. It had been a slaughter, more than a hunt.
O’Shea Lomax hoped sincerely that this particular hunt would end the same way.
Captain Se-heon Dokgo, of the Korean People’s Navy Submarine Force submarine 9.9 Hero, had not thought a lot about his personal chances for survival. The promises that had been made to him about personal advancement and financial security had been welcome, but had not been enough on their own to secure his cooperation.
Not surprisingly, it was exactly the traits that had driven his selection as a ballistic missile submarine Captain that had made him amenable to approach: detachment, loyalty, workaholism and propriety.
He had not thought about accepting the mission as a choice between life or death, either for himself, or for his men. Every time they went to sea, they were faced with the possibility of life and death choices. What mattered was whether the sacrifice asked of him and his crew was right and honorable.
He had decided it was both. If officers he respected told him he was needed to play a pivotal role, perhaps the pivotal role, in ensuring the future glory of his Fatherland, then that was only right. And if the targets given him were military in nature, then the mission was honorable.
That the weapons he launched were nuclear, not conventional, did not trouble him at all or he would not have accepted his commission aboard the KPN Hero in the first place. He firmly believed in the concept of nuclear deterrence and that possession of nuclear weapons without the will to use them when necessary was self-defeating.
His self-indulgent moment of reflection was interrupted by his weapons officer. “Comrade Captain. Mission reload is complete. Launch validation checks are underway. The missiles will be ready to launch in 15 minutes.”
“Very good.” Dokgo turned to an officer behind him. “Officer of the deck, proceed to launch depth and prepare to hover. Call to battle stations … missile.”
Once again, his XO faithfully repeated his order.
“Sonar, report.” Before he gave the order to pressurize their launch tubes, Dokgo wanted to make a last check of their environment. He had been ‘threading the needle’ for most of the afternoon as the enemy above intensified its search for their vessel. They had identified a ring of active sonar buoys, and successfully passed under it, leaving it about five miles behind them at last report. A small surface vessel was also conducting a search along to their northwest, but a change in course had allowed them to slip away from that too.
Given the high level of activity they had seen, he assumed there would be acoustically invisible helicopter-deployed dipping sonars in use too, but usually those would be deployed inside the picket ring they had recently escaped.
“No change, Comrade Captain,” his sonar officer reported. “Multiple active sonars at 178 to 192 degrees, range 10,000 yards to 15 miles. Surface vessel bearing 169 degrees, heading 345 degrees, range 14,000 yards and increasing.”
Six miles to the nearest active sonar buoy, eight to the small surface vessel trailing a sonar array in its wake. Are we far enough away? He was already at the outer boundaries of the launch window in the orders they had received. With so many aircraft and ships in the area, the launch of their missiles would be quickly detected. All that mattered was that the pressurization of their launch tubes did not trigger an immediate attack.
What happened to him, his crew and his missiles after that was in the hands of fate.
“Captain, we are getting a propulsion system error warning from the Sea Hunter. Intermittent power surges,” Lomax’s officer of the deck had reported.
It had been too good to last, Lomax knew that. The small unmanned craft with outrigger-style pontoons had survived the EMP wave from a nuclear detonation and tsunami-sized waves, but something had to give, and now it had.
“All right, bring it back to momma. Winch it up on the ramp and see what the problem is,” he’d ordered.
That had been nearly thirty minutes ago. And it was starting to look like their quarry had given them the slip, again. Whoever the Captain was on that Gorae, may his soul rot in hell, he knew his craft. He’d somehow managed to slip through the cordon of buoys and dipping sonar and could be anywhere by now. There were still four Defiants dipping and the MQ-25 was dropping a new ring of sonar buoys further out, but it was a big sea, and deep.
They had slowed to a crawl now, readying themselves to take their ailing Sea Hunter aboard, and had turned stern on to it so that they could lower their landing ramp and lift aboard with their crane.
His XO, Ryan, still looking like a car crash victim with head bandaged and wrist in a sling, came onto the bridge. “Sea Hunter is about a mile out,” he reported. He stood next to Lomax and looked out their shattered bridge windows. “I figure that Gorae is done. They made their statement, he’s going home.”
“I hope you’re right, XO.”
Ryan was wrong.
The 9.9 Hero had just reached missile launch depth 150 feet below the waves and was in a hover.
Captain Se-heon Dokgo took a moment to close his eyes and pray to his ancestors. He wasn’t a particularly religious man, but it felt like a religious moment. He opened his eyes again. “Officer of the deck, pressurize tubes one and two.”
“Pressurizing tubes one and two, aye.”
The noise of the missiles being prepared for firing sounded deafening inside the enclosed space underneath the submarine’s sail. For the next three minutes, they would be vulnerable.
“Tubes one and two pressurized!”
“Ready launch, one and two.”
“Readying launch, one and two, aye.” Dokgo looked at the men around him. All had families; mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, wives, children. All knew that they had launched nuclear missiles once already. A global nuclear holocaust could be underway above the waves. The pressure on him, as it was on every man, was incredible, and none of them knew whether their families were even still alive.
But they were doing their duty. They deserved the thanks of the entire nation, which they would never receive. But they could have his thanks.
He reached for the internal ship broadcast handset. “Comrade citizens, crew of the 9.9 Hero,” he began. “Our nation is at war for its survival. We do not know how that war is progressing, but we have received our orders and once again we will play our part. We are about to launch a missile strike on the US air base at Guam. This air base is the most important US Air Force facility in the entire region. At that air base, the main enemy has fleets of nuclear bombers, squadrons of attack aircraft and missiles that could be used to attack our Fatherland. We will destroy them.” He paused. At this moment, they deserved honesty. “The moment we launch, we could be attacked. I am as proud of you right now as a father is of his own sons. Do your jobs well, for your Fatherland, and for the ones you love.”
He hung up the intercom handset and turned to the officers in the command center. The looks on the faces he saw there were of grim determination. He saw no fear. His heart was bursting with pride.
“Officer of the deck, immediately after missile launch, set propulsion ahead full, rudder hard starboard, implement a crash dive to maximum allowed depth.”
“Ready for crash dive, aye, Captain.”
“Officer of the deck … launch missiles one and two.”
“Launch missiles one and two, aye!” The orders rang out through the boat.
“Contact!” a watch officer yelled. “From the Sea Hunter. Bearing one three zero, range … five hundred yards! Designating contact Sierra one.”
Lomax started. What? The North Korean submarine was almost directly underneath them. “Patch data to the nearest Defiant. Alert the Aegis ships.”
“Patching data through now. Defiants are five miles out, sir. Both destroyers acknowledging and on alert,” the watch officer said. “Sonar reports sounds of missile tubes flooding, sir. Contact is preparing to launch…”
Lomax gripped the console in front of him. The North Korean submarine was about to launch its missiles right before his eyes and he was completely, totally impotent.
Or …
He grabbed his comms handset. “Weapons. Captain. Bring HELIOS online, automatic targeting mode!”
Mounted on the superstructure of the Cody was its 125 kW missile defense laser. It was designed to intercept supersonic sea skimming anti-ship missiles. It had never been intended to intercept sub-launched intercontinental ballistic missiles. But the designers could never have anticipated those missiles would be launched within a mile of their laser.
And a missile was a missile, wasn’t it?
“Captain, weapons reports HELIOS on line, radar up and system in auto lock and fire mode.”
He had two men out on the bridge wings in readiness for guiding the Sea Hunter in and from the starboard wing he heard a cry. “Spouts in the water, aft starboard!”
There was nothing more he could do at his station, so Lomax ran to the lookout station, Ryan right behind him.
A few hundred yards off their stern, the water boiled, then it heaved upwards in two white foam columns. As the columns collapsed, the ballistic missiles emerged from the foam and seemed to hang there.
Then their boosters ignited.
“HELIOS firing!” Lomax heard from inside the bridge. There was no sound, no special effects laser beam shooting across the sky, the ship’s laser was invisible to the naked eye in daylight.
