“Right,” Floros said. “And here’s the order from Vice Admiral Agathocleous.”
He lifted a tablet from a pouch beside his chair and extended it. The Hydra’s commander’s eyes skimmed the screen.
“Task Force October Eighteen Two is disbanded,” the Hydra’s commander said. “We’re taking its surface combatants as we become the flagship of newly created Task Force October Eighteen Three. Our sole purpose is to destroy the Goliath.”
Floros eyed the Hydra’s commander as the man aimed his receding hairline towards the moon’s reflection on the waves.
“What of Task Force October Eighteen Two’s submarines?”
“Astute question,” Floros said. “They’ll remain on station with patrol areas that I think you’ll appreciate. Come.”
He walked to a plotting table and touched its capacitive touchscreen, invoking icons on the Aegean Sea.
“Here,” he said. “This is where the Goliath is now, pinned to the surface by a torpedo and running right for us.”
“The Pipinos got off a good shot.”
“Its torpedo would already have hit ninety-nine percent of the ships on the planet,” Floros said. “Only a ship capable of more than thirty knots had a chance to evade.”
“It’s only thirty-five miles from us. Well within range of its cannons. Why are they not attacking us yet?”
“We’ve been within it cannons’ range for hours, if not days. Why provoke us now? We're maneuvering as if we have no interest in it, and our best play is to feign disinterest as long as possible.”
“Conflict is inevitable, sir. It has to end up inside our cannon’s range to escape the Pipinos’ torpedo.”
“And we’ll be ready to exchange blows when it does. I’ll take our explosive ordnance over its high-speed bullets.”
Floros watched a new icon appear on the map, showing the appearance of a friendly aircraft.
“And here’s how we’re going to do it,” he said.
“I thought the aviators were sitting this one out.”
“One general was kind enough to lend us the electronic warfare support of an early warning and control craft,” Floros said. “No danger to any pilot, but an immense help to us.”
“Jamming of railgun rounds.”
“Our best chance to overcome that damned ship.”
The Hydra’s commander pointed between islands.”
“The Pipinos seals off the southwest. We come from the northeast. The combatants of the old task force seal off exits to the south and southeast, using their helicopters. Our shoreline bounds the north and northwest. It’s trapped, sir. The Goliath is ours.”
Careful to stifle hubris’ temptation, Floros clenched his jaw and nodded.
“But what about the old task force’s submarines?”
“Right,” Floros said. “They’ll patrol the waters here, here, here, and here.”
“That doesn’t make sense, sir. Those axes are already sealed off by the surface combatants and their helicopters.”
“Think harder.”
The man’s face tightened as he shifted his buttocks backwards and leaned his thin frame over the chart.
“These positions mean nothing with respect to attacking the Goliath. Sorry, sir. I don’t see it.”
“Well, then. Think broader.”
The Hydra’s commander brooded, and then color filled his face with the onset of realization.
“Ah. The mercenary submarine. Whatever its name is, it’s part of this mercenary band of pirates, and its commander may have the courage to think he can help the Goliath.”
“Right,” Floros said. “But I won’t credit him with the courage. He’s just arrogant and thinks himself invincible. Therefore, we’ll humble him with a trap.”
“He’ll see our combatants attacking the Goliath, and he’ll want to sneak up behind them. But our submarines will kill him.”
“Kill him indeed. Since his fate is in the hands of our submarines, I’m not commanding that effort. But I sure hope they’re as successful as we’ll be against the Goliath.”
A voice from a loudspeaker startled Floros.
“Incoming gunfire from the Goliath!”
“Take your ship to all ahead flank,” Floros said. “Head towards the Goliath. Use erratic maneuvering to evade its rounds and place your ship within range of your cannons.”
The deck rolled as the frigate turned and accelerated, and a sailor appeared with a helmet and lifejacket to assist Floros’ equipping for general quarters.
He grabbed a secure phone and hailed his boss.
“We’re under attack,” he said. “I need jamming, and I need it now, sir.”
“You should already have it,” the vice admiral said. “Can you see it on your sensors?”
Floros placed the receiver against his clavicle and looked at the frigate’s commanding officer.
“Where’s our jamming?”
The Hydra’s commander lowered the sound-powered phone that connected him with his frigate’s enclosed combat team.
“Confirmed, sir. We’ve got our electronic warfare support.”
Knowing chunks of Mach 7 metal raced towards him in ballistic flight, Floros impressed himself with the calmness in his voice. Air friction was slowing the projectiles below Mach 6, but his knowledge of the Goliath’s attack on Russian warships portended horror. The Hydra’s steel walls were paper against railgun shots, and every hit would be a guaranteed puncture wound.
Floros lifted his phone.
“Jamming’s confirmed, sir,” he said. “I’m going to get us within cannon range of the Goliath.”
“God speed, captain,” the vice admiral said.
Floros hung up and looked to the frigate’s commander.
“I recommend you station your best ship handler on the bridge as the conning officer. Maneuvering is now a crucial job.”
“He’s already stationed, sir. Our best. I placed him there after the Goliath surfaced.”
“Well done, commander.”
From the corner of his eye, Floros watched a young lieutenant aiming night vision glasses at bridge windows. He held his breath as he trusted the man’s instinct, training, and luck to dodge death.
“Right full rudder!” the lieutenant said.
The ship rolled out of the turn, and a pair of sonic booms cracked off the port beam.
“Left full rudder!” the lieutenant said.
Five seconds later, two booms rocked the night beside the frigate, and then five more seconds brought new sonic shrieks.
“I can see the newly launched rounds rising over the horizon,” the lieutenant said. “They’re compensating now, trying to predict our course.”
Three more pairs of ballistic metallic demons howled.
“The jamming’s working,” the Hydra’s commander said. “Our tactical team is tracking perfect and near-perfect incoming ballistic flight paths. The Goliath can’t guide its rounds. Keep us dodging them, and we’ll be in cannon range in twenty minutes.”
“That’s a long twenty minutes,” Floros said. “The lieutenant is only human. So make sure your ship’s ready for damage control, commander, and get the close-in weapon systems online to shoot down the incoming rounds.”
The young officer’s strained reply unveiled his trepidation.
“I’ll keep us safe as long as I can, sir. Left full rudder!”
The ship rolled, and two booms cracked to the starboard.
“Right full rudder!”