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“The combatants of the old Task Force October Eighteen Two are still approaching from the south. They’ve reached eighty miles from the location of the Goliath’s last known position.”

“Expand the chart.”

The Aegean Sea shrank, and a dozen Hellenic surface combatants appeared on the southern edge of the display. Floros grabbed a stylus and placed it on the icon of a frigate. He then dragged a line northward to define the base course he wanted the ship to follow. He repeated the motion with all sonar-equipped vessels in his new task force, fanning them out across his wounded enemy’s possible exit routes.

“Set base speed at twelve knots,” he said. “Begin anti-submarine evasion legs. I want all sonars in high-power search modes to block the Goliath’s escape. Any ship that detects a submerged contact will attack it immediately. Pair gunships and vessels without sonar to those with sonar, and have them ready with cannons and missiles in case the Goliath surfaces.”

“I’ll see to it immediately, sir.”

Reviewing the chart, Floros found himself hoping the southern combatants would drive his prey back into the Hydra’s teeth so he could witness its destruction.

To distract himself from his bloodlust, he forced his focus on tactics and invoked a dossier of his adversary.

A wireframe three-dimensional model of the combat transport craft appeared with estimates of its makeup. The portions captured by photographs appeared with solid outlines, showing the domed bridge, the Phalanx close-in weapon system, and the elevated, stern-mounted railguns. Dotted lines shaped the questionable aspects of the vessel, showing outlines of a planar radar system around the guns and torpedo nests below each forecastle.

Considering his adversary’s catamaran structure, he wondered if it could survive an air-dropped, lightweight torpedo. One half of the ship was guaranteed to survive, but he questioned the hydrodynamics of a twin-hulled vessel that had suffered a partial avulsion of its steel shell.

The damaged side would lose buoyancy and induce a torqueing stress over the cross members that united the halves. Designed to carry a naval submarine atop its connecting beams, the ship would be robust against this radial strain, but the strongest steel and stoutest welds had limits. Plus, the warhead’s blast would have weakened joints and crossbeams.

“Sir?” the Hydra’s commander asked.

“Yes. What is it?”

“Each ship in the task force acknowledges the new orders.”

“Very well.”

“What’s on your mind, sir? You’ve been burning your eyes on that diagram.”

“If the torpedo hit either side amidships, the Goliath is lost,” Floros said. “There’s no way it could be seaworthy if the torpedo hit anywhere near the middle of either hull. But if that did happen, then there’d be survivors inside the other hull, and they’d be on the seafloor right now.”

“Are you considering a rescue mission?”

“I hadn’t until I just mentioned it, to be honest. But if there were survivors, they’d be banging metal, and we’d hear it.”

“If not yet, we would during our hunt.”

True to the frigate commander’s criticism, Floros blinked dryness from his eyes as he tightened his stare on the diagram.

“But what if instead the opposite happened?” he asked. “What if instead of a catastrophic hit amidships, it managed to show the torpedo one of its bow or stern sections?”

Seeking inspiration from the display, the commander leaned towards it.

“It could then still be seaworthy, sir.”

“And if it’s still seaworthy, a ship of its redundant design has at least one railgun and at least one torpedo nest available.”

“Agreed, sir. If it’s seaworthy, it can fight.”

“Yes,” Floros said. “So I need more helicopters.”

He marched to a phone and hailed his boss.

“Are you having any luck getting me new helicopters, sir?”

“Sorry to disappoint you, captain,” the vice admiral said. “The naval air boss is protesting. He said he’s lost enough of his helicopters and airmen today. And I don’t blame him. They’re trained to hunt submarines, but that Goliath is something different, or was something different.”

Floros wanted to label the aviators cowards, but he subdued his criticism and considered their perspective. He wondered if he could fly a flimsy tin can above an enemy that could surface without warning and fire shots at seven times the speed of sound.

“I understand, sir,” he said. “I have enough firepower in my new task force to handle this.”

“What’s your intention?”

“I’m going to assume that the Goliath survived. I’ve got it fenced in with the combatants arriving from the south, and I’m going to hunt it down.”

“I think you’re wasting your time. A torpedo struck the Goliath, and it’s probably resting on the sea bottom. I’m sending out a vessel with side-scan sonar to search for the wreckage.”

“I’ll have to respectfully disagree with you, sir.”

“Duly noted. Go ahead and act on that disagreement. The task force is yours to do with as you wish. God forbid you’re right and the Goliath slips away. I consider you the insurance policy against that embarrassment.”

“I’ll protect our dignity, sir.”

Floros replaced the phone to its cradle and altered his tactics based upon his dearth of airpower.

“Get word to the task force helicopters,” he said. “I want them close to the surface combatants protecting them, and I want the surface combatants protecting the helicopters with gunfire. We’ll create a networked defense.”

“I’ll see to it, sir,” the Hydra’s commander said.

Floros sharpened his focus on the diagram of the Goliath. Ignoring the hypothesized power sources and propulsion train, he concentrated on the weapons.

“If it’s in fighting condition, there are still two ways it can defeat us,” he said. “Railguns can bring down our helicopters and cripple the propulsion equipment of our surface combatants.”

“But you’re pulling the helicopters back within protective range of our gunfire, sir. And we’ve shown that we can jam its guidance and evade its rounds.”

“We must remain vigilant, but I grant you that the railguns are the secondary concern. But remember the other weapon system — the torpedoes. That ship has at least three heavyweight torpedoes available, possibly six or even eight.”

“Not to be overly cavalier about it, sir, but we have more ships than that. At the very worst, we can survive a war of attrition until the Goliath is practically impotent.”

Floros considered the comment, drew its logical but sickening conclusion, and mustered the strength to act upon it.

“Your statement is correct only if the frigates survive. If the Goliath defeats them, our best sonar systems are gone, and we’d have only deaf gunboats remaining. We need to protect the frigates even if it means sacrificing the others.”

The Hydra’s commander looked away while reflecting upon the new survival pecking order.

“Maybe not, sir. The helicopters can protect the gunboats and vice versa if the Goliath tries to surface. Like you said, we have a strong network penning in the Goliath from the south.”

“That’s a noble thought, but no,” Floros said. “I want the three southern frigates protected from torpedoes at all costs. Place three gunboats in front of each frigate to absorb any hostile torpedoes. We must protect the frigates to optimize our sonar coverage and to keep their helicopters flying. Everything relies upon the frigates — hull-mounted sonar, variable-depth sonar, and flight operations.”