Dragon Fire (The Battle for the Falklands Book 2) by Peter von Bleichert Page A

of steadfastness and professionalism.   San
Luis II ’s forward momentum stalled, and the boat hung in the pitch-black
stillness.   The sound of trickling water confirmed
that ballast was pumped into a stern trim tank.   Matias glanced at the bubble: The boat stayed level in both pitch and
yaw.
    “Sonar?”
he asked.
    “Sir,
Delta 1 is at zero-two-zero.   Bearing:
two-zero-zero and turning.   Range: 500 meters.   Delta 1 has reduced speed, making turns for
about seven knots.   Enemy torpedo is
approaching our noisemaker.”   A muffled
thump sounded somewhere over their heads.   “Enemy torpedo has detonated.”
    “Yes,”
was hissed by several of the submariners.
    At
and below the surface, the sub’s weapons approached the British guided-missile
destroyer.
    ◊◊◊◊
    The Klubs darted in low and fast, skimming just above the
water.   Kingfisher 21’s pilot had spotted
their tail-fire on the rippled water.   Seamus
contacted Dragon , reporting his own position lest he, too, be engaged by
the destroyer.   The helicopter was
ordered to gain altitude and hold, so Seamus brought his aircraft up high and
banked off to a designated block of airspace.   In the meantime, Dragon ’s air
defense radar had already detected the Klubs ’
cylindrical bodies.   The AWO reacted.
    “Radar
contact.   Probable targets,” the Op Room had
announced over the bridge’s Voice User Unit.   “Fast movers at two-zero-zero degrees.   Bearing: zero-two-zero.”   Lieutenant Commander Williams sounded an alarm
bell and, with a nod from Captain Fryatt, ordered the wheel hard over so Dragon’ s bow pointed down the missiles’
flight-path, presenting minimum aspect.   Dragon slowed as well, reducing the turn
of her shafts, and thus reduced her self-generated noise.
    The
captain ordered up the Surface Ship Torpedo Defense System, “Deploy SSTDS.”   From Dragon ’s
transom, a drum winch paid out a towed array.
    Captain
Fryatt closed his eyes for a moment, and in the blackness felt the heat and
burning smoke from that terrible day aboard Sheffield .   He remembered the wind in the dark passageway
as the fire sucked air, gobbling the air as the fire grew in intensity, choking
men with fumes, smoke and oxygen starvation.   Fryatt opened his eyes again, but still saw the big round eyes of the
sailor in the respirator who had saved him from asphyxiation.   He blinked the images away and focused again
on the here and now.
    Two
cell covers popped open among Dragon ’s
forward vertical launching system.
    “T-mark
for function,” Williams spoke to the Op Room by VUU.
    “Electric
firing selected,” Op Room responded.
    “Firing
granted,” Fryatt authorized and Williams repeated.
    “Standby.”
    A
deafening bang and a plume of efflux exited the chimney.   An Aster 15 leapt from its launcher
cell.   The dart-shaped missile rose on a
fountain of fire that bathed the bridge in an eerie orange glow.
    “Good
away, one” Williams said as the bridge crew watched the missile climb out.
    BANG.   WHOOSH.
    A
second Aster departed.
    “Good
away, two.”
    Both
missiles climbed briefly, turned over, shaped their trajectory, discarded the
booster stage, and dove toward the water.
    Nearly
simultaneous with the first shot, Dragon ’s Seagnat Control System had scrutinized wind direction
and speed, threat direction, threat range, threat type and the ship’s direction
and change of heading.   It then selected launcher
two, and sent three Mark 214 seduction chaff canisters skyward.   Pushed away by a low-g rocket, the canisters
burst and dispersed clouds of metallized plastic strips.
    In Dragon ’s Op Room, a red light blinked
on the sonar station console.   The
SSTDS’s passive towed array had sniffed something and presented it to a midshipman’s
screen in the Op Room.
    Dragon ’s
sonar technician leaned in and scrutinized his display.   The midshipman donned his earphones and heard
a hiss like steaks just turned on a hot