Выбрать главу

“Don’t solve the problems before we know what the other guy is going to do,” Brannon said softly. “Just stand easy.” He ordered the periscope run down and stood patiently, looking at his watch from time to time. He signaled to the assistant TDC officer to raise the periscope.

“We can slow down now, Plot,” he called out. He put his eye to the periscope and the people in the Conning Tower saw the muscles under his shirt bunch.

“Stand by… Mark! Range to the nearest target is… two zero zero zero! Angle on the bow is zero six zero starboard! Start the problem! As soon as this guy commits himself to his run I’m going to give him three from the forward tubes and then try for a set-up on the other target. The second target is out beyond our first target.”

“Surface ships are speeding up, sir,” the sonar man said.

“Stand by… stand by… Mark! Range is one two zero zero yards… angle on the bow is zero five zero… “

“You can shoot, sir! We have a solution!”

“Fire one!” Brannon began counting down from six to one.

“Fire two!

“Fire three!” Brannon turned the periscope to the second target.

“Mark! This is on the second target! Mark!.. Range is one eight zero zero… angle on the bow is zero nine zero starboard… no… Hold everything! He’s turning away and speeding up. Keep me on this course, Plot. We’ll catch him in a minute!”

The first two torpedoes fired by Eelfish missed astern. The third torpedo slammed into the stern of Eagle’s Feather One and the combined explosive force of the torpedo and the score of depth charges on the stern rack erased all of Eagle’s Feather One from the stern to the bridge. The Eagle, trailing its sister ship and to its port, shook violently in the huge explosion.

* * *

“Eagle’s Feather One!” The Fubuki’s commander stood, shocked. “Her depth charges exploded! Come right, helm, head for her!”

“Alter your course to her course and proceed with the attack!” The Professor’s voice was cold, distant. “We can do nothing for her or her people. Attack the target!”

* * *

In Mako, six hundred feet below the surface, Nate Cohen’s keen ears picked up the high whine of the torpedo screws. His eyes widened as he heard the thrashing scream of the high-speed torpedo screws and then he shook his head in pain as the explosion that blew Eagle’s Feather One to bits blasted through Mako’s sound heads.

“I heard torpedo screws, two or three of them!” Cohen yelled down the hatch to the control room. “I heard the screws just before that big explosion! I know that was a torpedo hit, sir, I know it! The torpedo screws went right in the bearing of the ship I was tracking!”

“Left full rudder,” Grilley ordered. He looked at Chief DeLucia. “If Mr. Cohen is right, and he is almost always right, that means that Mike Brannon is close by! Nate, where did the torpedo screws come from, did you get a bearing?”

“Came from starboard and aft, sir. The ship I was tracking had just started to speed up. It bore one nine zero, sir.” He waited, knowing that Don Grilley would be making the bearings in on the plot.

“I heard the torpedoes running from starboard to port, well aft. The submarine that fired them has to be somewhere out there on our starboard quarter!”

“Rudder amidships,” Grilley ordered. “Meet her right about there!” He looked from the gyro compass repeater to his plot. If he could maneuver Mako a little farther in this direction then the remaining Japanese destroyer would be between Mako and Eelfish. He chewed his lip reflectively. Should he go up to periscope depth and join in the attack on the enemy destroyer or should he stay down at this depth and let Eelfish deal with the destroyer? If he went up would he interfere with Mike Brannon’s attack strategy? What would Mike Brannon expect Captain Hinman to do? Brannon and Hinman had talked for hours in the Wardroom on the first two war patrols about the advantages of two submarines attacking a target. Captain Hinman would go up and join the fight. He turned to DeLucia.

“You’re the Diving Officer, Chief. Take me up to sixty-five feet!” He reached for the telephone.

“This is Captain Grilley. Eelfish has arrived! The last big explosion we heard was a torpedo from Eelfish hitting one of the destroyers that have been attacking us! Mr. Cohen heard the torpedo running, he heard two or three torpedoes running and he tracked one of them right into the enemy bearing! We’re going up and get into the fight and get that other bastard up there! All hands stand by, we’ll open the torpedo tube outer doors at sixty-five feet… correction… make that open the torpedo tube doors as we pass ninety feet on the way up.” He reached over to hang up the telephone and was thrown to his knees by two tremendous explosions. Dimly he heard Cohen shouting that the second destroyer had begun its attack. Two more gigantic explosions shook Mako, rolling the ship to starboard forty-five degrees. As Mako rolled back another depth charge exploded close aboard and Chief DeLucia’s grip on the Conning Tower ladder was broken and he hurtled across the Control Room. He scrambled to his feet and collapsed on the deck. As Grilley watched, DeLucia crawled back to the Conning Tower ladder, his right leg beneath the knee sticking out at a sickening angle.

“I think my flicking leg is broke!” DeLucia grated as he hauled himself upright against the ladder. “Watch your God damned bubble, Smalley!”

“Damage reports,” Grilley said to the telephone talker.

* * *

“Oil! Big bubbles of oil bearing two nine zero!” The port lookout on Eagle’s bridge raised his voice in a triumphant yell. The Professor and the Fubuki’s commander rushed to the wing of the bridge, their eyes following the lookout’s pointing arm. The oil was clearly visible in the moonlight.

“We’ve hurt him!” the Professor said. He smoothed his goatee. “A very nicely executed attack, sir.” He walked back to the plotting board. “Let’s get a bearing on him as quickly as we can. Then we’ll finish him off!”

“Torpedo! Torpedo!” The wailing cry came from the starboard lookout. “Torpedo passing ahead!”

“From that side?” The Professor stared down at the plot. “Impossible!”

“Contact!” The telephone talker’s voice was high, excited. “Sound Room reports submarine contacts bearing two nine five and zero four zero!”

“Fifteen degrees right rudder, all ahead flank speed!” The Fubuki’s commander snapped out the order and the Eagle’s bow reared and then settled as her powerful screws roared to full speed.

“Two submarines!” The Professor looked at the Fubuki’s commander. Then he bent over the plot, his small bony fingers holding a pencil swiftly traced the Eagle’s change of course and marked in the bearing of both submarines. He laid the pencil down and belted his bathrobe tightly about his waist.

“I will take charge, Isoruku,” he said quietly. “Left full rudder. Drop two charges from the stern racks as we are well into the turn.” He looked down at the plot and then at his former student.

“The second submarine will expect us to attack him so he will go deep, too deep to fire torpedoes. We will not follow his expectations!” He cocked his head as the explosions of the two depth charges roared in the night. “Reduce speed to one-third, please. Get me a bearing on the target, the first target! We will finish him off with this attack and then we will have a second submarine for an encore!”