Time's Up!
1750 ZULU. 25 MILES WEST OF USS JOHN YOUNG
K-506 had come to antenna depth for its scheduled monitoring of the submarine broadcast. Gallikov knew they would be able to pick up shortwave news broadcasts. He hoped some sanity had returned to the world’s leaders, and the fighting would be coming to an end. He did not have to wait long for his answer.
ALL RED BANNER PACIFIC FLEET UNITS. YOU ARE HEREBY ORDERED TO IMMEDIATELY FIRE YOUR ROCKETS TOWARD YOUR ASSIGNED TARGETS. THE PARTY AND THE SOVIET PEOPLE EXPECT ALL SAILORS TO PERFORM THEIR DUTIES IN A MANNER BEFITTING ALL HEROES OF THE RODINA. AUTHENTICATION 1-1-6-S-4-G-H. SPIRIDONOV SENDS.
Gallikov sank at the sight of this message. They truly were mad. No matter, it’s too late now. “Deputy Captain and Political Officer to main control. Spin up all rockets. We shall launch in pairs beginning with Numbers 2 and 16.”
Orlov and Golovko both arrived in main control. Both had their launch system key on a chain around their necks, as did Gallikov. It would take all three of their keys, turned simultaneously to launch the missiles.
Gallikov addressed his control room crew. “Comrades, our fears have come to pass. Yuri, go ahead to launch control. Petya, take your station.” Golovko’s launch station was at the after end of main control, while Gallikov’s was forward. Orlov’s was in the missile fire control room, just below main control. The physically separated stations ensured that no one person could turn all three keys and launch the missiles.
“Make our depth 85 meters. All stop. Open all rocket tube outer doors.”
SEAHAWK 04
“Hot buoy number 15. Recommend 186 for 3” Jameson was reporting another possible contact. As the helicopter approached the buoy, the small, unknown sound it was picking up grew much louder.
“Pilot, I’m getting a lot of sound from 15 now. Sounds like metal scraping on metal!”
Morrison was convinced. “That’s our boomer. He’s either got an engineering casualty, or….” Morrison stopped. “Doug, how close was it? Get ready to drop quick!”
“He’s close! We can drop now and get him.”
“Do it!”
As Jameson released the Mark 46 torpedo, Morrison was on the radio. “Big John, we just dropped on a VERY probable boomer!”
USS JOHN YOUNG
“CAPTAIN, MORE FLASH TRAFFIC!” A visibly shaking third class handed Hamilton the message form.
EMERGENCY ACTION NOTIFICATION---WE HAVE A CONFIRMED SOVIET LAUNCH OF STRATEGIC NUCLEAR MISSILES AGAINST TARGETS IN WESTERN EUROPE AND NORTH AMERICA. ALL FORCES PREPARE TO TAKE IMMEDIATE SHELTER. MAY GOD WATCH OVER YOU AND PROTECT YOU
---PRESIDENT RONALD REAGAN
“Captain, helo’s on channel. They just dropped on a boomer!”
“Dammit, we’re still out of ASROC range! Spin up 2 and 8 anyway. I want to be ready in case. Let Morrison know to be ready to bug out as we come into ASROC range.”
K-506
Orlov had made the required settings in the launch system. The first two missiles would launch as soon as the keys were turned. Another pair of missiles would automatically launch one minute later, with this continuing until all 16 R-29R missiles were on the way to their targets.
“TORPEDO IN THE WATER, CLOSING!” Gallikov heard the warning, but it was too late to do anything about it now. All they could do at this point was continue with the launch.
“On my command. 3-2-1 turn.” Gallikov, Orlov, and Golovko all turned their keys. When they did, the first two missiles blasted clear of the boat.
SEAHAWK 04
“HOLY SHIT! TWO MISSILES, AT TWO O’CLOCK!” McFarland exclaimed.
From in back Jameson replied. “Not much more we can do. Torpedo is about to merge with the contact!”
No sooner had Jameson said this, than a waterspout erupted on the surface near where the missiles had come from. At first, the helicopter crew thought it was another missile launching, but no missile rose from it. Morrison was first to speak. “Doug, talk to me. What’s going on down there?”
“Loud explosion, no break up noises, Sounds almost like he’s…Sir, he’s coming up!”
K-506
Gallikov picked himself up off the deck. The deck itself was slick with blood from a gash on his forehead. At the other end of the compartment, he spotted Golovko. The young Zampolit was lying lifeless, with the right side of his head split open. “Report!”
“Captain, we are on emergency power. Rockets 2 and 16 are away. All other rocket tubes are showing red in status. We have launched all that we are going to.”
“Comrade Captain, we have progressive flooding in the rocket compartment and reactor room number one. The remaining pumps cannot keep up with the flooding.”
Gallikov had hoped to never give this order. “Emergency surface. Prepare to abandon the ship.”
Missile 2 was on its way to Fairchild AFB, Washington. Headquarters of SAC’s 92nd Bombardment Wing. Missile 16 was headed to Mather AFB, California. Home of 320th Bombardment Wing. Both missiles would accomplish their mission.
USS JOHN YOUNG
“He’s what?! You’re shitting me!” Hamilton replied. “Say that again.”
Morrison‘s voice was on the speaker. “Yes sir, we’re orbiting him now. It’s a Delta III and it looks like our fish hit him right on the starboard side of his missile deck. Got some crew topside look like they’re breaking out life rafts. They better hurry too, because this thing looks like it’s already going down.”
“How far to Seahawk 04’s position?”
“Eleven miles sir. We’ll be there in about 20 minutes,” replied James.
“Very well. Get the gig and whaleboat prepped. Also, let’s go ahead and issue sidearms and shotguns to selected personnel. We can use the crew’s lounge and helo hangar for prisoners. Senior officers can go in my in port cabin. But we’re not taking any chances. If any of those bastards even twitches, they get a load of double-ought buckshot to the face.”
