Frank Becker stepped away from the periscope. “Zero nine zero relative, sir, low power on the horizon.”
Keebes put his eyes on the periscope eyepiece, the rubber of it warm and slick with Becker’s sweat.
Through the crosshairs and range marks he could see the supertanker. Target One. He rotated the right grip, increasing the power to high. The bridge of the supertanker grew to giant size, the windows shining warm yellow light out, the navigation lights of the tanker still illuminated.
“Observation, Target One,” Keebes called.
“Ready.”
“Bearing, mark!” Keebes called, and punched a button on the periscope grip.
“Bearing one seven five,” Jensen called.
“Range mark, six divisions, high power. Angle on the bow port ninety.”
“Range, two thousand yards.”
“Firing point procedures. Target One,” Keebes called from the periscope. “Horizontal salvo, tubes one and two, one minute firing interval.”
“Ship ready,” Frank Becker reported.
“Solution ready,” Jensen said, bending over the consoles of the attack center.
“Weapon ready,” the weapons officer reported.
“Final bearing and shoot,” Keebes ordered, his periscope crosshairs on the supertanker’s midsection.
“Bearing… mark!”
“Bearing one seven six,” from Jensen.
“Range mark, six divisions, high power. Angle on the bow, port ninety five.”
“Two thousand yards and set,” Jensen called.
“Standby.” The weapons officer took the torpedo firing trigger to the nine o’clock standby position.
“Shoot!” Keebes ordered.
“Fire!” The weapons officer took the trigger to the three o’clock firing position.
The detonation slammed Keebes’s eardrums, the highpressure air venting inboard from the torpedo firing mechanism two decks below.
“Tube one fired electrically, sir.”
“Tube two, final bearing and shoot,” Keebes ordered.
The crew went through the same routine for the second torpedo, the air pressure pulse slamming Keebes’s ears as the torpedo left the ship.
“Tube two fired electrically. Captain. Both units are active and homing.”
“Very well, energizing periscope videotape.”
Keebes kept the supertanker on the periscope, waiting for the torpedoes to impact.
“Sir, the American submarine just launched a torpedo.”
“Confirm it’s not aimed at us.” Tanaka said.
“No, sir, it would appear he’s shooting at the merchant tanker.”
“Let’s take it up to mast-broach depth.”
“Sir, we have Nagasaki torpedoes one and two locked onto the American. Should we prepare to fire?”
“No. We’re not authorized, Mr. First.” Tanaka mounted the steps to the periscope-control stand, seated himself in the periscope-control chair. The assembly looked almost like a motorcycle, the front wheel replaced by the optics module and the pole of the unit.
“Ship control, mast-broach depth.”
“Sir.”
The Winged Serpent came up slowly, the deck inclining, the hull creaking as the ship came up shallow.
“Second torpedo launch from the American submarine, sir.”
“Periscope coming up.” Tanaka hit the control-function key and the stainless steel pole came out of the fin, the light piped into the hull by fiber optics and reassembled in the optic module. The actual mast did not penetrate the hull of the ship, yet with the fiber-optic transmission, the view looked good enough, as if he were looking out an old-fashioned optical periscope.
The view was dark, only a faint glow coming from the waves far above. Tanaka hit the fixed function key to rotate the control seat and the view above began to rotate just as his seat rotated on a circular track on the platform. The shimmering glow on the waves grew nearer, the moonlight coming down from above, until finally the glow got closer, individual waves now clear in the view. Tanaka rotated more quickly, needing to see the surface as soon as the periscope cleared.
The periscope suddenly broke through, the horizon showing up, if still blurry, from the rotation of the platform.
Tanaka slowed the rotation and looked out for close contacts. There were none, only the supertanker in the distance, heading away to the southeast as it made its way to Japan.
Satisfied that there were no other ships on the surface, Tanaka studied the supertanker.
“Sonar shows the torpedoes pinging on their target, sir.”
Tanaka saw the supertanker explode before sonar heard it. The white mushroom cloud blossomed into an orange-and-black flame cloud as the oil hold detonated.
Tanaka could feel the blast shaking the ship as the shock wave traveled through the water.
Then the second torpedo hit.
“Mr. First, you should see this,” Tanaka said, not wanting to watch anymore.
