Aboard the Conning Tower of the Akula, 1100 HRS
Captain Markov stood at the enter of the tower, preferring to stand on the long watches that the submarine embarked on, both to make sure he had the energy to complete his shift, and the presence around his crew during it -- he was more accustomed to grow bored standing and walk around and meet with his crew. The little bursts of vigilance his visits provided ensured that his crew was both respectful of him and fearful of being caught 'shamming' as it was called.
While he was contemplating this, Helmsman Black replied in his usual low tone, "Sir, we have made it to checkpoint Delta, shall we bring the ship to comm and periscope depth?" he asked knowingly.
"Yes, do so at once Helm," Markov replied evenly, shaking off boredom in his words.
"Aye aye Sir," the Helm replied and then said to his crew: "Speed zero-two knots, course true, depth five-zero feet." The planesman repeated what he had just heard and then pulled back on his controls while he felt the ship begin to slow and rise. After the vessel had reached the aforementioned settings, Captain Markov bellowed, "Periscope up! Comm tower up!"
Several 'Aye Aye, Sir's' we heard and outside the vessel a communications array began its plunge from the depths to the surface, just peeking out about five feet. In front of it was the periscope, already scanning the horizon as an uplink was made with GPS and SATCOM, among other more secret things.
The conning tower and comms room were abuzz with activity once again. Peering through his scope, bathed in red light, Captain Markov could make out the outline of a container ship about four miles away due north, and nothing else. 'A pity,' he thought silently to himself.
"Down Periscope!" he bellowed once more, followed bye an Aye Aye and the mechanical whir of the periscope doing just that.
"Comm, report!" the Captain of the Akula said, as if in reply to his negative contact on the periscope.
"Sir," the Comms Officer began, "Updated position from GPS puts us ninety-six meters off-course, correction made with Navigation," he said quickly as he continued, "Messages to and from base both tactical and personal transmitted and received," he replied as he handed him a folded up piece of paper, "Enemy and Neutral coordinates updated based on coordinates from Ophion Sir," He finished confidently.
"Good," Markov replied staring at the piece of paper in his hand, "Dismissed."
"Aye aye, Sir," the man replied snaking off into the hull of the ship below as the Captain opened the piece of paper.
Atop the paper was a date/time group, a cipher text with a check-mark beside it in black ink, and the following message in short-hand:
'Proceed as normal. Increased air operations from both Handiyan and Austinese fleets should make entry easier. Keep vigilance, position of all warships in theater current as of 1000 hrs. Good luck and Godspeed Out.'
He refolded the paper, added a few more folds as to make it smaller and then placed it neatly in his pocked to be destroyed later.
"Comms down! Proceed with route as planned!" he said loudly as he took to his quarters for a short nap 'Here we go.'
Three Hours Later
Captain Markov bolted awake as the intercom in his room loudly interrupted him in a female voice: "This is the XO, report to the bridge at once sir, unknown contacts ahead."
He quickly got out of his bed, his boots still laced from before, put on his jacket and ran to the conning tower while he buttoned it, the crew fleeing to the safety of the walls as the saw him, Petty Officers shouting 'Make Way!' the entire way there.
Captain Markov arrived at the bridge of his submarine and immediately met the XO's gaze, a smug smile crossing her pursed lips, matching her crossed arms, fiery gaze and crimson hair.
"Report!" he said sternly, not fully collected or fully awake.
"Multiple unknown contacts, Sir, all bearing due west, right in front of us aligned in a blockade. Positions are roughly what intel estimated as the Austinese fleet, sir," she replied professionally.
"You are relieved, but stand by," he said, not waiting for her reply he immediately began, "Speed one-five knots course and depth true, Sonar report!"
Helmsman Black reiterated his commands as did the Planesman, and Markov walked over to the Sonarmans' stationed as he replied without turning from his scope, "Multiple contacts sir, all warships bearing from three-four-six through zero-three-three. Fleet distance is sixty nautical miles, time to intercept is three-and-a-half hours. Total count is over twenty."
"Aye, good job. Keep at it.," Markov said calmly as his eyes slanted. It was game time.
The Captain began to say "Helm, kee-" when he was interrupted by the Sonarman,
"Sir! Unknown contact, middle of the fleet, appears to be a very large container ship judging by its size and the sound of its screws sir."
Markov turned his head, perplexed for a moment. Then an idea began to form in his head.
"Navigation?"
"Yes sir."
"What is the depth under the assumed Austineese fleet?"
"Still blue water sir, depth is three-two-zero-zero, assumed sonic layer at two-niner-zero-zero."
"Good, Helm."
"Aye aye sir."
"Make course for the large container ship, staying below sonic layer by two-hundred when able. We're going to pop-up under that ship. We were hired with an understanding in false-flag operations, and the Yural conflict is going to get hot. Weapons?"
"Yes sir?"
"Remove the charges and detonators from two torpedoes. Prep an SF team in SCUBA gear in bay one. We're going to start a war."
The plan was simple. The Akula would ride under the sonar layer until it was under the container ship, making it nigh invisible to surface vessels and sub-surface targets above the layer. Then it would slowly and quietly rise until it was under the huge container ship, being masked by its large signature, launch a team of operators to affix charges to its belly, and then would retrieve them and begin its course anew. Several hours later as the container ship was sabotaged , it would look exactly like a torpedo had hit them from the Handiyan fleet.
