“Why didn’t I think of that?” Walker asked.
“You’re still learning the art of undersea warfare,” Cahill said. “And I have to admit that I didn’t think of it until three seconds before I tried it.”
“We still need to match the spin, but at least you’ve got it drifting to a stop.”
Cahill tapped keys.
“I’m using all four outboards to twist us to the right. I’m manually matching the Kilo.”
“High-pressure air,” the sonar operator said. “It’s blowing its ballast tanks.”
“Very well,” Cahill said. “So be it. The surface tension will stop his confounded rotating sooner.”
The submarine slipped above the cameras’ reach.
“You’re not worried about aircraft?” Walker asked.
“Yes, I’m worried. But they can only attack with guns unless they’re willing to sink their countrymen. And strafing runs are deadly for them, since our cannons will be above the water. Coming to twenty-five meters.”
The depth gauge showed the Goliath ascending as gray yielded to the shallow sunlight.
“We’re at twenty-five meters,” Cahill said. “Get the cannons ready.”
“They’re ready,” Walker said. “Just waiting until we’re shallow to deploy them.”
“The Kilo’s rotation has stopped,” Cahill said. “The loading system can now match its movements in the swells. I’m taking us up. Coming to twenty meters.”
As the Goliath slipped upward, its cameras and sonar combined to feed data to its automated loading algorithms.
“System-calculated distance from the bed to the cargo’s keel is ten meters,” Cahill said. “I’m shifting trim control to automatic loading mode, verify a setting of two meters per minute rise rate.”
He shot periodic glances at the display to double-check the ship’s automation. He admired the Goliath’s delicate computerized dance of shuffling water fore and aft to keep itself level while shedding water overboard to gain levity.
“I’m slowing the system to one-half meter per minute rise rate,” he said.
“Depth is twelve meters,” Walker said. “Our sterns are above water. May I attack?”
“Deploy the cannons. Take control of the air battle, and keep Jake in mind.”
“It’s a swarm of Fencers out there,” Walker said. “I need to start shooting to hold them back.”
“Very well, damn it. Jake’s on his own.”
The railguns cracked as Cahill absorbed the illusion of the Kilo falling through shimmering rays into the Goliath’s waiting cradle. Sensors registered pressure on the bed.
“Contact!” he said. “Engaging the presses.”
Cameras caught the hydraulic arms rotating downward and pinning the submarine.
“We got one,” Walker said. “Scratch one Fencer.”
“Excellent! Secure the cannons. I’m submerging the ship.”
“Terry,” Walker said. “The hatch is opening. The Russians are trying to escape.”
“I’m still submerging. I’m sure they’ll figure it out and change their minds.”
“They took the hint. They’re closing the hatch. I suggest you try to get a message to Pierre.”
“Connect me.”
“Nothing. No real-time connection is possible. The Fencers are jamming us.”
“I’m sure he’s watching on satellite.”
The Goliath dragged its cargo under the waves.
“I’m taking us to twenty meters,” Cahill said.
“No deeper?” Walker asked.
“I don’t want to drown our new guests, and I’m going to porpoise our way out of here to help Jake.”
“The port cannon can’t cycle fast enough.”
“I know. We’ll use the starboard cannon only.”
“I’ll ignore the Fencers then,” Walker said. “I assume we won’t be surfaced long enough at any given moment for them to shoot.”
“Very well. I’m coming to fourteen knots and placing a ten-degree down angle on us to elevate our cannons.”
While he braced against the dip, the pressure sensors registered increased force as water pushed the Kilo against the bed.
“Coming to course one-nine-zero,” Cahill said. “We’re making straight for the Bosporus. Liam, fire two splintering rounds from the starboard cannon at helicopters as I porpoise. Coming to twelve meters.”
He elevated the Goliath to lift its railguns into the air.
“I’ve got a helicopter on radar,” Walker said. “Shooting two rounds from the starboard cannon.”
The railgun cracked twice.
“Securing the starboard cannon,” Walker said. “It’s stowed.”
“Coming to twenty meters,” Cahill said. “How long until our rounds will require terminal homing?”
“Twenty seconds.”
“Coming to twelve meters. Guide the existing rounds in flight and send out two new rounds.”
As the railgun fired, the phased-array radar picked up the distant rounds as they passed wide of the helicopter.
“Miss,” Walker said. “You need to shorten this porpoising cycle.”
“I will. Coming to eighteen meters.”
Staccato puncturing sounds pelted the hull, and Cahill grabbed a microphone while the ship submerged.
“Damage report. What’s been hit?”
Silence.
“Damage report,” he said. “What’s been hit?”
“Twenty seconds until the rounds require terminal guidance,” Walker said.
“Damn it. Coming to twelve meters.”
“This is starboard weapons bay. One of those Fencers made a run at me. The cannon took a beating. The barrel’s got holes in it. The feed is torn up pretty bad. It’s out of commission.”
“Get out of there and seal the compartment behind you.”
The icons of the distant rounds and the helicopter merged.
“Hit!” Walker said.
“Excellent!” Cahill said. “Coming to twenty meters.”
“The Fencers are still following us,” Walker said. “They may try to strafe us again if you keep giving them a predictable course. There’s just too many of them.”
“I need to head towards Jake to protect him. I’ve still got a cannon.”
“You need to protect your crew. You were three yards away from losing a man instead of a cannon.”
Cahill paused for several breaths to let the adrenaline subside.
“Let’s stay submerged but change course before heading towards Jake to see if we can confuse these Fencers.”
CHAPTER 22
As the low-frequency radio wire absorbed Renard’s feed, Jake oversaw two French sailors typing coordinates of the Russian surface combatants. Updates entered the Subtics system, and he assigned weapons to the closest combatants.
“Assign tube one to the Slava.”
Remy tapped keys.
“Tube one is assigned to the Slava. We’re still out of torpedo range.”
“It’s coming for us, Antoine. Like every one of them, it’s coming right for us because the Russians think we’re trying to run. But we’re going to surprise them.”
“Perhaps we should instead be doing what they think we’re doing. I see nothing wrong with trying to leave.”
“No, Antoine,” Henri said. “Jake’s right. Pierre and I agree. His latest feed says a dozen helicopters are already at the Bosporus. We wouldn’t be able to get by their screen even if Terry can coerce the Kilo into turning off the mines.”
“A railgun and a Phalanx system pointed at your hull can make people behave as you would like them to,” Remy said.
Jake drew a breath to reply, but his lead mechanic continued arguing in his defense.