“Prepare to crash dive. Crash diving in five seconds. Four. Three. Two. One. Crash Dive!”
He stabbed his finger against a graphic that ordered the preselected group of systems to shift to their undersea states, and then he walked his hand across the screen to command the stern planes to their opposite extreme.
“Hold on, Liam.”
He grabbed a railing and took a wide stance as the rising rear drove the prows into the waves. Speed pushed the rakish bows under tons of water, and a glide factor consumed the ship.
Water rushed to the domed bridge and engulfed it, and Cahill cringed as he trusted the transparent plastic windows. The rapid thirty-degree down angle tugged the Goliath below the waves and created a fulcrum that lifted the propellers above the water. Momentum carried the hulls under.
“The ship’s submerged,” Walker said.
“No shit, mate. Bring us back up to twenty meters. Make us light but keep a ten-degree down angle to hold us under.”
Walker tapped keys that commanded pumps to thrust water weight throughout the trim tanks. The ship rose, and Cahill saw moonlight shimmering above the dome.
“Propulsion is on the MESMA systems,” Walker said. “All plants running normally. We’re at seventeen knots, drifting towards a maximum sustained submerged speed of twelve knots.”
Cahill spoke to a microphone.
“Sonar supervisor, listen for Harpoons passing overhead.”
“I hear them already. They’ll pass in ten seconds.”
“Get a fix on the torpedo, too, if you can hear it.”
“I’ve got it faintly on our hull array. It’s still behind us. Hard to give you any better fix on it when the bearing rate is zero.”
“Understood,” Cahill said.
“Those Harpoons will circle back if they miss,” Walker said. “They had us targeted dead to rights.”
“Damn it,” Cahill said. “You’re right.”
As he rebalanced his stance against the deck’s lessening angle, he shifted his eyes to a two-dimensional overhead view of the Goliath and its surroundings. The submarine-launched torpedo trailed two and a half miles behind him.
“We can’t stay down here forever.”
“But it takes the Harpoons a minute to circle back,” Walker said. “They’re most vulnerable when they expose their broadsides.”
“To the cannons, you mean?”
“Why not? Splintering rounds, guided by our phased array. Those missiles present decent cross sections when they’re turning.”
Cahill heard the Harpoons’ echoing howl with his naked ears, and he craned his neck to see blurry plumes overhead.
“I’m taking us back up, Liam. Prepare to bring everything back online for surface combat. Target the Harpoons with the cannons and the Phalanx.”
“I’m ready.”
“Here we go.”
Cahill released the stern planes to their neutral position and pumped water off the ship. The artificial wind of the Goliath’s motion walked sheets of water across the dome.
“We’re up,” he said. “Bring everything online. Get us back on the gas turbines and flank speed. Take down the Harpoons.”
The whine of compressed air reached the bridge as hungry gas turbines fed. Wind swept glimmering droplets off the windows above Cahill’s head.
“Targeting the Harpoons with the cannons,” Walker said.
“Prepare to fire splintering rounds at will.”
“Ready.”
“Fire.”
Cahill saw Walker lift night vision goggles to his face and aim them off the Goliath’s quarter as the first duo of sonic booms cracked.
“Get those Harpoons off me ass,” he said. “I’m tracking the helicopters now, and I’m going to need the cannons on them soon.”
“The shots are looking good,” Walker said. “At this range, Mach 7 gives us only three to four seconds of travel. We’re going to hit them. We’re going to bring them down.”
“Hurry.”
“Splash one!” Walker said. “I see it toppling.”
An announcement over the loudspeaker confirmed it.
“Take down the other two,” Cahill said.
“They’re circling around. The shots will get harder. You need to think about diving again, Terry.”
“We lost nearly half a mile against the torpedo by submerging. No, mate, we can’t go under again.”
“One more hit!” Walker said. “The second Harpoon is veering off course. Wait. It’s recovering. Must’ve only grazed it.”
“Hit it again.”
“I need the Phalanx.”
Cahill glanced to his left at a display that showed the close-in weapon’s firing arc and azimuthal limits.
“You’re clear. Use it.”
“The second Harpoon is down!” Cahill said. “The last one is coming for us.”
The Phalanx spat a staccato chainsaw line of metal across the Goliath, and Walker’s shoulders went limp as he lowered his goggles.
“The third Harpoon is splashed.”
“Very well,” Cahill said. “Now target the helicopters. The first is showing up on our radar.”
Red pulsating icons caught his attention.
“More Harpoons,” he said. “Pierre’s sending us the data.”
“They’ve unloaded on us,” Walker said.
“And well timed to make us deal with missiles and helicopters all at once. Target the first helicopter with splintering rounds from the cannons.”
“The first helicopter is targeted.”
“Fire.”
Sonic cracks overflew Cahill.
“The four Harpoons are only two minutes away,” Walker said. “The Hydra is twenty miles away, empty of Harpoons but seven minutes from cannon range against us.”
“Understood, mate. That’s two minutes to shoot down helicopters. Use them well.”
“Splash one helicopter!”
“Target the next helicopter. I see it on our radar now.”
“Targeting the second helicopter.”
More cracks rocked the night.
“I think we damaged it,” Walker said. “It looks to have turned back.”
The Frenchman’s face moved on the once-dark screen.
“Indeed you did,” Renard said. “I have one on satellite that’s leaving a trail of smoke on infrared camera and heading back towards the Hydra.”
“Two left,” Walker said. “Still outside our radar’s range.”
“But also outside of their torpedo range,” Cahill said. “We still have a chance.”
“We need to dive under those Harpoons.”
Cahill felt his blood pressure rising.
“Damn it, I know. Not yet. Shoot down those helicopters.”
“I don’t envy our chances until I have them on our phased array.”
A helicopter’s icon shifted from an outline to an opaque figure, followed by that of the last rotary-winged threat.
“You have them both on phased array now,” Cahill said. “Shoot them down.”
Multiple sonic cracks.
“I think I just nicked one,” Walker said. “And now, it’s splashed. The third helicopter is down.”
“Damn it, we’re out of time,” Cahill said. “I’m flooding the forward trim tank, placing full rise on the stern planes, and securing the Phalanx close-in weapon system.”
He aimed his voice towards his console’s microphone.
“Prepare to crash dive. Crash diving in five seconds. Four. Three. Two. One. Crash Dive!”
He stabbed his finger against a graphic that ordered systems to their undersea states, and then he commanded the stern planes to their opposite extreme. Tightening his grip on the railing, he watched the prows plow into the sea. Water engulfed the bridge and then swallowed the ship.
“The ship’s submerged,” Walker said.