Free Deep Sound Channel by Joe Buff Page A

the bottom."
    "Concur," Wilson said.
    "Depth six thousand feet," Meltzer said. Ilse looked at a pressure gauge: a metric ton for each square inch of hull.
    "Range to the incoming torpedo?" Jeffrey said.
    "Five thousand yards," Sessions said. "Too close," Ilse heard him mumble.
    "If it's got a proximity fuze," Jeffrey said, "it's set real tight."
    "Back full," Wilson said.
    "Back full, aye," Meltzer said. "Maneuvering acknowledges back full."
    "Watch the trim as we slow down!" Wilson said. "The blast catches us from off the level, we'll be knocked out of control."
    "Adjusting the trim, aye," COB said. Ilse heard pumps gently whirring.
    "Back flank," Wilson said.
    "Back flank, aye," Meltzer said. "Maneuvering acknowledges back flank." Ilse watched their speed mount up again as they fled in reverse from the enemy torpedo. Meltzer was sweating in concentration, his fingers bloodless white as he worked the control wheel.
    "Make tube eight ready in all respects," Wilson said, "including valve lineup for a punchout with a water slug. Tube eight, firing point procedures on the incoming torpedo."
    "Solution ready," Jeffrey said. "Ship ready. Weapon ready."
    "Chief of the Watch," Wilson said. "On the 1 MC, rig for depth charge."
    "Rig for depth charge, aye."
    Ilse saw Jeffrey glance at Commodore Morse. The
    Brit winked back and gripped a handle on the overhead. "Depth four four zero zero feet," Meltzer said.
    "Very well," Wilson said, "match sonar bearings and
    shoot."
    "Unit from tube eight fired electrically!" Jeffrey said. Sessions tried to clear his throat. " Unit is running normally, sir."
    Jeffrey looked up from his console and again met Ilse's eyes. "Thirty seconds to intercept! Incoming torpedo should exhaust its fuel and blow any moment!" Jeffrey turned to Captain Wilson. "Unit from tube eight has,,
    With a deafening wham, pile drivers slammed the bottom of Jeffrey's feet and spine. His entire skeleton rattled. Challenger—still moving in reverse—lurched sternward violently. Jeffrey was thrown against his seat belt, his skull bouncing off the headrest. Commodore Morse went flying.
    Red shadows shifted wildly as the CACC's spring-loaded fluorescents jiggled crazily in their mounts. But the lights and shockproof monitors didn't flicker once. Then Jeffrey's ears registered a painfully loud sssss and the air began to fog. He ran his tongue along his lips and blinked. Good, it wasn't the blinding salt spray of ambientpressure seawater. Instead a compressed air leak, cold as it expanded through some failed pipe joint or valve, was condensing the moisture in the CACC atmosphere. The force of the leak blew dust and papers everywhere. Jeffrey saw COB work his panel, bypassing the fault.
    "Nav gyros have tumbled," the assistant navigator called. "Reinitializing now" Another shock wave hit as the giant gas bubble of the fireball fell in upon itself and then rebounded hard,
    trading kinetic and potential energy back and forth. Jeffrey eyed a depth meter. The boat was falling slowly, rocking badly in the disturbed water all around.
    "Chief of the Watch and Helmsman," Wilson said, "watch our buoyancy but do not let her broach. If we can play dead now convincingly, it'll make our next job easier." Wilson grabbed the red handset for Damage Control, located back in Engineering.
    "Fire, fire, fire in the ESM room," a sound-powered phone talker said. Probably a short in one of the electronic support measures consoles, Jeffrey told himself, or maybe one of the multiband receivers kept warmed up on standby. That might impair Challenger's intelligence-gathering ability later, and her detection of enemy radar. As fire fighters hustled along the after passageway, someone opened the ESM door from inside. "It's out, it's nothing," the technician said, holding up a CO, extinguisher. Thin smoke drifted out of the small compartment and was sucked into the overhead vents. Jeffrey, now standing, was doubly relieved: the air-conditioning meant the boat