tc.redstormrising-第70节

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n　balance。
At　the　Pacific　fleet　bases　of　San　Diego　and　Pearl　Harbor；　darkened　ships　stood　out　to　sea。　Once　in　open　ocean　they　all　headed　south　toward　Panama。

23　…　Returns

USS　PHARRIS
Things　had　settled　down　again。　A　very　relative　term：　the　Backfires　were　still　ing　down　the　gap　over　Iceland；　but　they'd　hit　another　convoy　this　afternoon；　killing　eleven　merchantmen　in　the　process。　All　the　eastbound　convoys　were　angling　south；　trading　a　longer　voyage　to　Europe　for　reduction　of　the　air　threat。　As　bad　as　losses　were　to　this　point…nearly　sixty　ships　had　already　been　sunk…a　routing　south　at　least　meant　the　Soviet　bombers　could　carry　only　one　missile　instead　of　two。
The　strain　was　beginning　to　tell　on　everyone。　Morris's　crew　had　been　〃port　and　starboard〃　for　almost　a　week　now；　four　hours　on　duty；　four　hours　off。　Sleep　patterns　had　been　broken　up。　People　didn't　eat　proper　meals。　Crucial　maintenance　requirements　cut　into　what　sleep　allocations　his　men　had。　On　top　of　that　was　the　knowledge　that　a　submarine　or　aircraft　attack　could　e　at　any　time。　The　work　was　still　getting　done；　but　Morris　noted　that　his　men　were　being　terse　and　ill…tempered。　People　were　beginning　to　trip　over　doorsills；　a　sure　sign　of　fatigue。　More　serious　mistakes　would　soon　follow。　The　relationship　between　fatigue　and　errors　was　as　certain　as　gravity。　In　another　day　or　so　he　hoped　a　solid　routine　would　establish　itself；　something　for　his　men　to　adjust　to。　There　were　signs　of　this；　and　his　chiefs　were　telling　him　not　to　worry。　Morris　worried。
〃Bridge；　bat。　Sonar　contact；　possible　submarine；　bearing　zero…zero…nine。〃
〃Here　we　go　again；〃　the　conning　officer　said。　For　the　twenty…fourth　time　on　this　voyage；　Pharris's　crew　raced　to　battle　stations。
It　took　three　hours　this　time。　No　Orions　were　available　for　them；　and　the　escorts　pooled　their　helicopters　to　track　down　the　submarine；　an　directed　by　Morris　and　his　CIC　crew。　This　submarine　driver　really　knew　his　business。　At　the　first　suspicion　that　he　had　been　detected…perhaps　his　sonar　had　detected　a　helicopter　overhead　or　heard　the　splash　of　a　falling　sonobuoy…he　went　deep　and　began　a　confusing　series　of　sprints　and　drifts；　porpoising　over　and　under　the　layer；　working　hard　to　break　contact…toward　the　convoy。　This　one　wasn't　interested　in　running　away。　The　submarine　disappeared　and　reappeared　on　their　tactical　plot；　always　closing　but　never　revealing　his　position　clearly　enough　for　a　shot。
〃Gone　again；〃　the　antisubmarine…warfare　officer　said　pensively。　A　sonobuoy　dropped　ten　minutes　earlier　had　detected　a　weak　signal；　held　it　for　two　minutes；　then　lost　it。　〃This　guy's　beautiful。〃
〃And　too　close；〃　Morris　said。　If　the　submarine　was　continuing　south；　he　was　now　at　the　edge　of　the　frigate's　active　sonar　range。　Up　to　now；　Pharris　had　not　revealed　herself。　The　sub's　captain　would　know　surface　ships　were　about　from　the　presence　of　the　helicopters；　but　it　wasn't　likely　that　he　suspected　a　frigate　only　ten　miles　south　of　his　position。
Morris　looked　up　at　the　ASW　officer。　〃Let's　update　our　temperature　profile。〃
Thirty　seconds　later　they　dropped　a　bathythermograph　probe。　The　instrument　measured　water　temperature　and　reported　it　to　a　display　in　the　sonar　partment。　Water　temperature　was　the　most　important　environmental　condition　affecting　sonar　performance。　Surface　ships　checked　it　periodically；　but　a　submarine　could　do　it　continuously…yet　another　edge　that　went　with　a　submarine。
〃There！〃　Morris　pointed。　〃The　gradient's　a　lot　stronger　now　and　this　guy's　exploiting　it。　He's　staying　out　of　the　deep　channel；　probably　doing　his　sprints　on　top　of　the　layer　instead　of　under　it　where　we　expect。　Okay　。　。　。〃
The　helicopters　continued　to　drop　buoys；　and　the　brief　glimpses　they　got　were　of　a　target　heading　south；　toward　Pharris。　Morris　waited　ten　minutes。
〃Bridge；　bat；　left　standard　rudder；　e　to　new　course　zero…one…one；〃　Morris　ordered；　pointing　his　ship　at　the　submarine's　estimated　position。　The　frigate　was　doing　five　knots；　moving　quietly　on　the　calm　seas。　The　CIC　crew　watched　the　heading　readout　on　the　aft　bulkhead　change　slowly　from　the　easterly　heading。
The　tactical　display　was　useless。　Confused　by　many　brief　reports　from　sonobuoys；　most　of　which　were　probably　false　signals　to　begin　with；　the　puter…generated　estimate　for　the　submarine's　position　covered　over　a　hundred　square　miles。　Morris　walked　over　to　the　paper　display　in　the　after　er　of　the　room。
〃I　think　he's　right　about　here。〃　Morris　tapped　the　chart。　〃ments？〃
〃Running　shallow？　That's　contrary　to　doctrine；〃　ASW　pointed　out。　Soviet　submariners　were　supposed　to　stick　with　established　doctrine；　the　fleet　intelligence　reports　said。
〃Let's　find　out。　Yankee…search。〃
The　ASW　officer　gave　the　order　at　once。　Yankee…search　meant　turning　on　the　frigate's　active　sonar　and　hammering　the　water　to　find　the　sub。　Morris　was　taking　a　chance。　If　the　submarine　was　as　close　as　he　thought；　then　he　was　advertising　his　own　ship's　location　and　inviting　a　missile　attack　that　his　point…defense　systems　were　ill…equipped　to　stop。　The　sonar　operator　watched　his　screen　intently。　The　first　five　pings　came　up　blank　as　the　sonar　beam　swept　west…to…east。　The　next　one　painted　a　bright　dot　on　the　screen。
〃Contact…positive　sonar　contact；　direct　path；　bearing　zero…one…four；　range　eleven　thousand　six　hundred　yards。　Evaluate　as　probable　submarine。〃
〃Nail　him；〃　Morris　ordered。
The　solid…fuel　ASROC　booster　ignited；　blasting　clear　of　the　ship　and　curving　across　the　sky　with　a　trail　of　pale　gray　smoke。　The　rocket　burned　out　in　three　seconds；　coasting　through　the　sky　like　a　bullet。　A　thousand　feet　over　the　water；　the　torpedo　separated　from　the　booster；　retarded　by　a　parachute　in　its　fall　toward　the　water。
〃He's　changed　course；　sir；〃　the　sonar　operator　warned。　〃Target　is　turning　and　increasing　speed。　I…there's　the　fish；　we　have　the　torp　in　the　water　and　pinging。　Dropped　in　pretty　close。〃

The　tactical　action　officer　was　ignoring　this。　Three　helicopters　were　converging　on　the　target　datum　point　now。　There　was　a　good　chance　the　torpedo　would　miss；　and　the　task　now　was　to　pin　the　contact　down。　He　ordered　a　right　turn；　allowing　the　frigate's　passive　sonar　array　to　track　in　on　the　submarine；　which　was　moving　swiftly　now　to　evade　the　torpedo；　and　making　a　lot　of　noise。　The　first　helicopter　arrived　and　dropped　a　buoy。
〃Twin　screws　and　cavitation　noise。　Sounds　like　a　Charlie　at　full　speed；　sir；〃　a　petty　officer　announced。　〃I　think　the　torp　may　have　him。〃
The　torpedo　switched　from　ping…and…listen　to　continuous　pinging；　chasing　after　the　racing　submarine；　arcing　downward。　The　weapon　momentarily　lost　the　sub　as　she　passed　through　the　thermocline　layer；　then　reacquired　when　it　too　entered　the　colder　deep　water；　rapidly　closing　the　distance。　The　submarine　loosed　a　noisemaker；　but　it　malfunctioned。　Another　was　loaded　into　the　launcher。　Too　late。　The　torpedo　struck　the　submarine　on　her　port　screw　and　exploded。
〃All　right！〃　hooted　a　petty　officer　on　the　sonar　crew。　〃We　have　warhead　detonation。　We　got　the　sucker！〃
〃We　have　impact。　We　have　detonation；〃　confirmed　a　helo　crew。　〃Stand　by。　Target　engines　have　not　stopped　pletely　。　。　。　additional　propulsion　noises…clanking。　Air　blowing；　he's　blowing　tanks。　ing　up；　target　is　ing　up。　We　have　bubbles　on　the　surface。　Hot　damn；　there　he　is！〃
The　Charlie's　bow　broke　the　surface　six　miles　from　the　frigate。　Three　helicopters　circled　the　wounded　vessel　like　wolves；　and　Pharris　turned　north　to　close　the　target；　her　five…inch　gun　tracking　it。　It　wasn't　necessary。　The　forward　hatch　opened　and　men　began　scrambling　out。　More　appeared　on　the　sail；　jumping　overboard　as　the　submarine's　engine　room　filled　with　water。　A　total　of　ten　got　off　before　the　submarine　slid　backward　below　the　waves。　Another　appeared　on　the　surface　a　few　seconds　later；　but　no　more。
The　helicopters　dropped　life　jackets　to　the　men　in　the　water。　The　helo　with　the　rescue　hoist　aboard　managed　to　lift　two　men　before　the　frigate　arrived　on　the　scene。　Morris　supervised　the　operation　from　the　bridge。　The　motor　whaleboat　was　swiftly　launched；　and　the　rescue　was　an　easy　one。　The　Russian　crewmen　were　stunned　and　did　not　resist。　The　helicopters　guided　the　boat　to　each　man；　carefully　searching　the　area　for　more。　All　eleven　were　recovered　and　the　whaleboat　returned　to　the　drop　lines。　Pharris's　chief　boatswain　supervised　the　operation；　an　ensign　standing　quietly　at　his　side。
No　one　had　seriously　considered　this　possibility。　A　torpedo　hit　on　a　submarine　was　supposed　to　kill　her　entirely。　Prisoners；　Morris　thought　to　himself。　What　the　hell　am　I　supposed　to　do　with　prisoners？　He　had　to　decide　where　to　keep　them；　how　to　treat　them。　How　to　interrogate　them　…did　he　have　anyone　aboard　who　spoke　Russian？　The　captain　turned　the　conn　over　to　his　executive　officer　and　hurried　aft。
Armed　crewmen　were　already　there；　holding　their　M…14　rifles　awkwardly　as　they　looked　down　with　great　curiosity　at　the　whaleboat。　The　boat　crew　secured　the　hoist　lines　to　the　lift　points；　and　the　seaman　on　the　winch　lifted　the　boat　up　into　the　davits。
The　Soviets　were　not　an　impressive　lot；　many　of　them　clearly　in　shock　from　their　near　escape　from　death。　Morris　counted　three　officers；　one　of　them　probably　the　captain。　He　whispered　a　quick　mand　to　Bosun　Clarke。
The　chief　had　his