cargo are back in the water, I wait for Pointy at the water’s edge, and we egress together. I also signal Commander Mitch—I mean the XO—that we are feet wet. After we are back on board the ASDS, I’ll check our guests for hypothermia, just to be safe.”
Jerry finished. “Higgs and I will keep the ASDS at periscope depth with both masts exposed, about a foot of mast out of the water. Once we receive your signal we’ll move in to meet you as water depth allows. Once the swimmers are close by, I’ll broach the ASDS to allow access to the upper hatch. After everyone is back aboard, we get as deep as we can and retrace our route back to Michigan .”
Lieutenant Ramey nodded approvingly. “That’s the plan. Now, last chance. Any more thoughts on the last-minute change?”
Jerry replied first. “Doubling the distance is still well within the margin for the batteries. The usage curves on the exercises we ran were close to the manufacturer’s specs. The only issue was the power surge during the last run. Alex, have you been able to run that issue to ground?”
“We think so, sir,” replied Carlson. “We replaced a motor controller on one of the aft thrusters that had an intermittent ground. We’ve checked both the new motor controller and the batteries with three diagnostic runs and they’ve come up green each time.”
Fazel chimed in and said, “I’ve already raised my concern. If there are casualties, it doubles the time until they’re treated.”
Captain Guthrie answered, “If you need to get back aboard quickly, I’ll bring Michigan in to meet you. Of course, I’ll have to get permission, but we’ll have a mast up, and line of sight to the RC-135 if the SATCOM doesn’t work.”
Ramey nodded politely, but didn’t look reassured. “If we’ve been shot at, sir, there may be pursuit.”
“Not a problem, Lieutenant. We’ve got to rendezvous submerged, and the IRGC Navy has no ASW capability at all, either with planes or their surface craft. As long as we can avoid visual detection, we’ll be able to rendezvous safely.”
“And since the rendezvous will be after dark,” Jerry added, “they’d have to be right on top of us even to see Michigan while at periscope depth.”
“And if all goes according to plan, sir, we won’t have to ask.” Ramey looked around the space. “Anyone else? No? Then we muster here at 1515 hours for final checks.” He grinned. “And remember to pee! There are no rest stops along the way.”
~ * ~
5. “ABANDON SHIP!”
3 April 2013
1615 Local Time/1315 Zulu
USS Michigan
Jerry and Guthrie emerged from the captain’s stateroom and walked casually to the ladder well that led up to the control room. Jerry had traded in his dark blue coveralls for a set of desert cammies. Other than the pixelated combination of tan, brown, gray, and olive drab colors of the Type II Navy Working Uniform, there were no rank insignia, nametag, warfare patch, or anything else that could identify the wearer as belonging either to Michigan or the U.S. Navy. He was also armed. The SIG Sauer P226 pistol rested in a paddle holster on his right side; while four fifteen-round magazines were on his left. At first, Jerry had protested that this was a bit over the top. After all, he was just piloting the ASDS, nothing more. Ramey and Higgs were adamant that Jerry be armed. But it was Alex Carlson who broke through when he pulled his XO aside and said, “Just wear the damn thing, sir. I would if I were going.”
“Status, Mr. Simmons,” barked Guthrie as he entered control.
“We are on station, hovering, Captain. Depth is one three zero feet with forty-eight feet beneath the keel. We’ve had twelve sonar contacts. Four are classified as tankers and are well to the west and south of us in established shipping lanes. Six are classified as fishing trawlers, heading toward either Bandar Kangan or Dreyyer. They
Jerry finished. “Higgs and I will keep the ASDS at periscope depth with both masts exposed, about a foot of mast out of the water. Once we receive your signal we’ll move in to meet you as water depth allows. Once the swimmers are close by, I’ll broach the ASDS to allow access to the upper hatch. After everyone is back aboard, we get as deep as we can and retrace our route back to Michigan .”
Lieutenant Ramey nodded approvingly. “That’s the plan. Now, last chance. Any more thoughts on the last-minute change?”
Jerry replied first. “Doubling the distance is still well within the margin for the batteries. The usage curves on the exercises we ran were close to the manufacturer’s specs. The only issue was the power surge during the last run. Alex, have you been able to run that issue to ground?”
“We think so, sir,” replied Carlson. “We replaced a motor controller on one of the aft thrusters that had an intermittent ground. We’ve checked both the new motor controller and the batteries with three diagnostic runs and they’ve come up green each time.”
Fazel chimed in and said, “I’ve already raised my concern. If there are casualties, it doubles the time until they’re treated.”
Captain Guthrie answered, “If you need to get back aboard quickly, I’ll bring Michigan in to meet you. Of course, I’ll have to get permission, but we’ll have a mast up, and line of sight to the RC-135 if the SATCOM doesn’t work.”
Ramey nodded politely, but didn’t look reassured. “If we’ve been shot at, sir, there may be pursuit.”
“Not a problem, Lieutenant. We’ve got to rendezvous submerged, and the IRGC Navy has no ASW capability at all, either with planes or their surface craft. As long as we can avoid visual detection, we’ll be able to rendezvous safely.”
“And since the rendezvous will be after dark,” Jerry added, “they’d have to be right on top of us even to see Michigan while at periscope depth.”
“And if all goes according to plan, sir, we won’t have to ask.” Ramey looked around the space. “Anyone else? No? Then we muster here at 1515 hours for final checks.” He grinned. “And remember to pee! There are no rest stops along the way.”
~ * ~
5. “ABANDON SHIP!”
3 April 2013
1615 Local Time/1315 Zulu
USS Michigan
Jerry and Guthrie emerged from the captain’s stateroom and walked casually to the ladder well that led up to the control room. Jerry had traded in his dark blue coveralls for a set of desert cammies. Other than the pixelated combination of tan, brown, gray, and olive drab colors of the Type II Navy Working Uniform, there were no rank insignia, nametag, warfare patch, or anything else that could identify the wearer as belonging either to Michigan or the U.S. Navy. He was also armed. The SIG Sauer P226 pistol rested in a paddle holster on his right side; while four fifteen-round magazines were on his left. At first, Jerry had protested that this was a bit over the top. After all, he was just piloting the ASDS, nothing more. Ramey and Higgs were adamant that Jerry be armed. But it was Alex Carlson who broke through when he pulled his XO aside and said, “Just wear the damn thing, sir. I would if I were going.”
“Status, Mr. Simmons,” barked Guthrie as he entered control.
“We are on station, hovering, Captain. Depth is one three zero feet with forty-eight feet beneath the keel. We’ve had twelve sonar contacts. Four are classified as tankers and are well to the west and south of us in established shipping lanes. Six are classified as fishing trawlers, heading toward either Bandar Kangan or Dreyyer. They
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