As his ship settled, he checked his tactical display and noticed a surprise. Renard’s update showed the Greek surface combatants turning away from him, and he pointed at their icons.
“What do you think that’s all about?”
“Not sure yet.” Walker said. “It could be them taking your torpedo threat seriously, but we know bloody well they’re aware that we only have three torpedoes.”
“That’s still three cracked keels. That could be enough to scare them all off,” Cahill said.
He suspected his adversary’s turning away was more involved than his bravado suggested, but he let his optimistic declaration linger to invite his executive officer’s feedback.
“Maybe,” Walker said. “But we need to think there’s more to it than a defensive posturing. The latest volley of Harpoons proves that this Captain Floros isn’t afraid to shoot weapons.”
Cahill kept his subconscious mind working on the riddle while using the conversation to assess the new geometry.
“No matter the reason, it gives us breathing room,” he said. “All those anti-ship missiles stay farther away, those cannons stay out of range, and the helicopters will be staying back, too.”
“Agreed. But you look like there’s something you don’t like about it.”
Curling his shoulders over the plot, Cahill rested his weight on his forearms and thought through the transforming battlespace. A monumental shift in the Greek strategy came into focus.
“Pierre said Jake heard some submarine movement,” he said. “If subs are moving and surface combatants are keeping their distance, that means something. In fact, I think it means everything.”
He pushed his torso vertical and enunciated his logic for Walker’s benefit while he reached for a stylus.
“Jake pushed through the submarine defenses too easily — too quickly. He did it so fast that they gave up trying to stop him and turned their entire focus on us.”
“I was afraid you’d say that,” Walker said.
“Yeah, mate. They’re coming for us. The entire Greek submarine fleet that’s anywhere near us is now hunting. The wall to the south that was trying to keep Jake out lost two of its subs from the order of battle, but that leaves three subs from that wall plus the one that already shot at us.”
“This ship’s a marvel of technology,” Walker said. “But beating a wolf pack isn’t our specialty. We’re not built for it.”
Cahill drew ovular estimates of the surface ships, helicopters, and submarines tightening around him. His prison became clear, and he assumed that simplicity and fear of friendly fire dictated having one submarine — whichever the Greek Navy deemed the most capable — enter the enclosed arena to kill him.
Then a spark of optimism let him consider an alternate scenario in which politics dictated the identity of his foe, and he hoped the most arrogant commanding officer would use his personal connections to gain entrance into the duel. Perhaps, Cahill hoped, even with a wounded ship that was inferior in a straight undersea battle, he could outwit a halfwit.
Then a deeper burning optimism rose within him as he considered Jake. His colleague, his friend, his cavalry. Time worked in Cahill’s favor as the Specter raced north to intercede.
But he wondered what Jake could do to help him. He suspected the Greek submarines had started north of his colleague and had headed northward first, enjoying a two-hour head start.
Having planned to slip past a semi-deafened frigate, Cahill rethought his egress. A submarine now supported each wounded surface combatant, and with the task force’s curling around him, the south, west, and east were blocked. To the north, the Hydra remained, offering passage to dead end shorelines of the nation he’d attacked.
All doors seemed closed. All doors were closed — until a burst of brilliance graced his awareness.
“You’re right,” he said. “We can’t beat a wolf pack. But I see a way out of this predicament.”
“That’s mighty clever of you, given that you’re the only one who’s certain what our predicament is.”
“I am. And I could use a distraction to help get out of it.”
“The Harpoons are still circling above us, I believe.”
Walker looked towards the sonar supervisor, who nodded.
“Then get a communications buoy ready for Pierre,” Cahill said. “I want Jake to put some slow-kill weapons into the eastern-most frigate and its escorts.”
“You want him to blow a hole for us to exit?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I want him to do.”
“But you expect there’s a submarine in that area, or at least there’ll be one by the time Jake could get there.”
“Right. I do expect that, but I didn’t say I was going use the exit. I just want Jake to create it.”
Walker slid across the chart, pulled out a keyboard, and started clicking its keys. His typing speed impressed Cahill.
“The message is loaded,” Walker said. “I assume you want it set to transmit as soon as it hits the surface?”
“Yes, set the buoy for immediate transmission. Time is critical.”
“The buoy is ready.”
“Launch it.”
The executive officer tapped a key and confirmed the buoy’s ascent.
“What orders now?” Walker asked. “Do you want to wait for Renard to confirm receipt of the buoy’s message?”
“No need. Whether or not Jake and Pierre help me, I know what I’m doing next.”
“Shall I make ready another communications buoy to let Pierre know your plans?”
“Yes,” Cahill said. “And get ready for a decisive move you won’t soon forget.”
CHAPTER 21
Jake checked the Specter’s speed.
“Eleven knots,” he said. “How long do I have on the battery?”
“Three hours until you need to recharge, another ten minutes until cell reversal,” Henri said. “We can’t catch any hostile surface combatants before needing to snorkel, but we can reach torpedo range of the nearest frigate and its gunboat escorts.”
“True, assuming they stay away from Terry. But that’s not what’s bothering me. It’s this eleven-knot chase that’s bothering me. We’re half deaf at this speed.”
“The Greek submarines are moving equally fast.”
Jake stepped down to the chart and looked at clouds of doubt and inaccuracy.
“We don’t know what the heck they’re doing,” he said. “It’s all guesses, all conjecture.”
“But informed conjecture,” Henri said. “Need I remind you that Antoine heard two submarines turning north after you damaged two others and sent them to the surface?”
“Yes, I remember. But that doesn’t mean they all headed north. And even if they did, one could have turned back.”
“The most likely scenario is that they’re all chasing Terry. You demoralized them when you broke their ranks, and they’re likely chasing the weaker and more valuable prey.”
Disliking the ambiguity of facing hidden hostile submarines, Jake chose caution.
“Slow to four knots.”
“Four, Jake?” Henri asked. “We’ll be delayed in aiding the Goliath.”
“You heard me.”
The Frenchman relayed the order to the engineering spaces and joined Jake by the charting table where he lowered his voice.
“I think you’re being paranoid. All the Hellenic submarines must be heading north after Terry. He needs our speed of intercession, not our caution.”
“What if one sub stayed behind in ambush waiting for me to speed by with that nice high bearing rate that torpedoes love? If they’re smart, that’s what they’re doing. They’re baiting me into a race to the north and leaving one sub behind to spring the trap.”