“Verify ten rounds in each cannon are loaded, sequenced from south to north against the Revythousa regasification plant.”
“Verifying,” Walker said.
Cahill heard muffled reports from his weapons bay technicians squawking from Walker’s sound-powered phone.
“The sequence is verified.”
“Fire.”
Sonic booms echoed as Cahill watched the Frenchman’s face appear on his monitor.
“Your attack on the pipeline and the helicopters has stirred the hornets’ nest,” Renard said. “I see propulsion systems warming up on harbored Hellenic warships.”
“Hopefully it won’t matter,” Cahill said.
“Do you want to risk talking back to him?” Walker asked.
“Not yet. I’ve got nothing to tell him that would help matters. He knows what to do.”
“Right.”
As his ship unloaded its arsenal at the distant regasification plant, Cahill sensed an ugly premonition — the type he’d developed after years of warfare.
“What’s wrong, Terry?”
“I thought I heard a click over the loudspeaker.”
While fears and potential reactions to phantom threats flooded Cahill’s mind, Walker frowned, tapped an icon, and spoke.
“Sonar supervisor, is there something on your mind?”
“Yeah, maybe. We’re analyzing something.”
Cahill aimed his jaw towards the microphone on his console.
“Spit it out, mate.”
“Possible launch transients.”
“From a submerged contact?”
“Yes. Pneumatic whining. Very faint. Very far away.”
Cahill shifted into reactive mode.
“Give me a bearing,” he said. “Now.”
“Two-two-three or one-three-seven.”
The long line of hydrophones he towed behind the Goliath sensed low-frequency sounds and distant noises, providing him his first warning of danger. But exposed to the water without any mechanical backstop, his towed array was helpless to tell its left from its right.
“I can’t maneuver for you yet, mate,” he said. “We’ll have to live with the ambiguity for now.”
“How would maneuvering help ambiguity?” the supervisor asked. “It was a transient noise. It’s gone.”
“In case there’s a torpedo on the same bearing.”
“If it’s on the same bearing, it’s coming right for us.”
“That’s me point,” Cahill said. “Do you hear anything on the hull arrays?”
“No. Nothing.”
The proximity to the Goliath’s self-noise condemned the hydrophones that spanned the hull’s skin to a weaker sensitivity than the sensors towed behind the ship. Cahill wanted to dive, turn, and accelerate to dissect the details of any new sounds coming from the direction of the possible launch, but his mission precluded it.
Rhythmic sonic booms hammered the water as he glanced at cutaway graphics of his railguns and counted four shells remaining in each. Twenty seconds left of shooting. Twenty seconds left of walking face-first at four knots into the fury of a potential torpedo.
He looked to the image of the Frenchman for hope.
“Your rounds are looking good,” Renard said. “All are thus far headed on proper trajectories towards their targets. I’m also tracking the Hellenic ships that may prosecute you. Fortunately, no additional helicopters yet. One gunboat has just gotten underway, but it has no sonar system to threaten you if you can stay submerged during your egress.”
The railguns stopped.
“I’m taking us down,” Cahill said. “Coming to thirty meters. Accelerating to ten knots. Turning left to course one-zero-zero to resolve ambiguity on the towed array.”
He tapped keys to lower the railguns, inhale water into the Goliath’s tanks, and maneuver the ship. The deck angled and rolled, and he grabbed a railing for balance.
“You mean we’re only resolving ambiguity if we hear another sound while on the new course?” Walker asked. “Either another transient noise, machinery noise from a launching submarine, or a torpedo.”
“Right.”
“I hope you’re just being pessimistic.”
After the deck steadied, the half-octave increase in the supervisor’s voice over the loudspeaker heralded the danger.
“High-speed screws! Torpedo in the water!”
“Bearing!” Cahill said.
“Two-two-three or three-three-seven. Ambiguity is resolved to two-two-three correlating to the prior launch transients.”
“Shit,” Walker said. “We were sitting ducks. This is a perfect shot against us.”
“Surfacing the ship,” Cahill said.
He tapped keys, and the deck lifted his stomach into his throat. Blackness yielded to translucent shimmering, yielded to a starry, moonlit sky. He then instructed Walker to invoke his strengths as a surface warfare officer and transform the Goliath into its best impersonation of a destroyer.
“Shift propulsion to the gas turbines, energize all radar systems, and elevate all weapon systems.”
After his executive officer obeyed the commands, Cahill tapped keys to triple the behemoth’s speed.
“Coming to all ahead flank. Coming left to course one-zero-three to place the torpedo off our port flank.”
As the ship undulated over the swells, Cahill committed to a two-way conversation with his boss.
“Damn,” Renard said. “I see you on the surface. I assume you’re running from a torpedo.”
Cahill forced a cavalier response to calm his nerves.
“Not the first time, mate.”
“Well, I have some good news. An Italian maritime patrol craft intercepted a transmission from the submarine that shot at you. It was an encrypted message that’s not been broken, but at least the patrol craft was able to geo-locate the submarine for you. I’m sending the coordinates. It was far away when it attacked you.”
“It probably broke off from the pursuit of Jake after I attacked the pipeline.”
“Indeed. I’m calculating now,” Renard said. “And I think you can just barely outrun the torpedo. You have a sixteen-knot speed disadvantage, and I estimate the torpedo is six miles from you. It should run out of fuel if you can maintain your top speed.”
“Thanks for the propulsion upgrades you gave me in Toulon,” Cahill said. “The extra knot makes a difference. I’m coming left to zero-four-three to put the torpedo right in me stern.”
Renard’s jaw tightened as he turned his face from the screen.
“Away from one danger and into another.”
“Shit,” Cahill said. “You’re right. I’m heading right into that bloody mess near Lesbos.”
“Your attacker was wiser than he appears with his long-range shot,” Renard said. “He’s forced you to either deal with his torpedo or deal with the Hellenic task force at the oil rig.”
“I’ll take the task force. I know how to disable their propulsion systems and keep their helicopters away from me ship.”
“You do, but the Hellenic forces are likely aware of the countermeasures the Russians used against you in the Black Sea. Keep your wits about you and remember the counters to the counters.”
“I will.”
“If nothing else, let me at least assure you of your mission’s success. I’m sending the satellite videos now.”
A screen above Renard’s face showed huge compressed natural gas tanks exploding in Revythousa as the Goliath’s shells peppered the facility. Then a ball of fire engulfed the industrial complex that converted incoming liquefied fuel into its useable gaseous form.
“So I’m running from a torpedo and into a hostile task force that rightfully has reason to hate me.”