“But you trust the dolphins now, don’t you?” Henri asked. “They’re insurance against such an attack.”
“I trust them only as well as they can communicate. And even they have limits on what they can hear.”
“You may as well find out what they hear now.”
“Okay. I can do at least that much.”
Jake ordered Remy to query the dolphins for all contacts. While listening for enemy vessels, his sonar expert oversaw a younger technician in interfacing with the mammals. As the clicks and whistles fed information into the Subtics system, large ovals of range uncertainty overlaid the submarines.
All submerged contacts were distant from the cetaceans, making their data useless for tracking the hostile threats, but it gave Jake relief that none were close to him. After stepping around the table, he crouched beside his sonar expert, who slid an earpiece to his jaw to listen.
“The range data says we’re safe,” Jake said. “But I want to do a secure active search to be sure.”
“I understand what you’re thinking, but keep in mind that the Greek submarine crews have probably figured out we’re using the dolphins against them. The exchanges we just had with the dolphins for our updates might have given away an idea of where we are.”
“All the more reason for a secure active search to make sure we’re alone.”
“But the more chance that any nearby submarine is alerted and listening.”
“Do it. Five millisecond pulse, one-quarter power, three hundred and sixty degrees.”
Remy called up a command screen, tapped an icon, and invoked a display showing the thin outgoing sonic pulse. Holding his breath, Jake watched the sound expand outward without a returning echo.
“Okay,” he said. “We’re alone.”
He stood.
“Henri, bring us back to eleven knots.”
“With pleasure.”
An hour later, Jake stood from his captain’s chair to stretch his legs. He wished the icon of the nearest frigate to get closer to the central crosshair representing the Specter on his display so that he could attack it, but physics constrained the rate of closure.
While he lamented his submarine’s speed limits, he watched his sonar expert exchange words with a junior technician.
“The dolphins announced a range shift,” Remy said. “A target has just moved from far range to in between near and far.”
Jake stepped down to the central table to see it.
“There’s only one contact it could be,” he said.
“Yes,” Remy said. “Target five.”
“That’s a gift,” Jake said. “Set the range to ten miles and assign tube one to target five. Medium-speed run. Anti-submarine mode. Set the active seeker to turn on at six miles.”
“Tube one is ready,” Remy said.
“Very well. Shoot tube one.”
Jake felt the pressure change in his ears.
“Tube one indicates normal launch,” Remy said. “I have wire control. I hear its propeller.”
As the icon of this weapon extended towards Jake’s intended victim, Henri stood and walked to the table.
“The dolphins will reach their recommended rest time in three hours and their mandatory rest in six hours. They’ll need to rest and feed in six hours, no matter how hard you push them.”
“This mess should be resolved by then,” Jake said. “Set an alarm for four and five hours from now and remind me of the dolphins’ rest requirements at each interval.”
Henri returned to his station, and Jake saw something on the display he disliked.
“Antoine, slow weapon one to slow search speed. I don’t want it catching target five too soon.”
“I’ve set weapon one to slow search speed,” Remy said.
“Very well, Antoine.”
The French mechanic approached Jake.
“What’s your concern?” Henri asked.
“Giving away our position to the easternmost frigate and its escorts. It would give away only blunt data, but no need to broadcast it early. I intend to have weapons in the water heading for the surface ships before weapon one detonates.”
“Understood. I support it,” Henri said.
“Let’s plan it out, then,” Jake said.
“I’m listening.”
“We have two gunboats and one frigate to the east. I’ll launch weapons at the gunboats first since they’re three and five miles farther away than the frigate. I’m going to double up weapons since they’re slow-kills. I won’t sink anything, but I’ll cripple the gunboats and distract the frigate’s captain while he tries to plug forty or so small holes in his ship. Make sense?”
“Of course, but only if you’re sure Terry’s going to come this way. Isn’t that speculative, given that he’d be a fool to try to push through the submarines that now hunt him?”
Jake reflected upon the prison break, and for a moment it seemed absurd in its impossibility. Then he remembered his dolphins — his advantage. They could enable his quest to sanitize the waters of hidden Hellenic hunters.
“Agreed there’s a lot of submarines out there to clear away before we can spring him free, but we need to do this one step at a time.”
“What’s the first step then?”
“We hamper the surface ships from long range since we have Pierre sending us their targeting data and since they’re driving back and forth across their patrol areas predictably.”
“Despite the long-range shots, you make good points. The surface combatants are vulnerable.”
“And it gives me time to reload all my tubes while still approaching the area.”
“Then you’ll be giving up wire guidance and leaving the torpedoes to their own random fates. Six torpedoes may hit the same ship, and they may all miss completely.”
Jake recalled the unusual guidance his boss had rendered prior to his departure for the mission. Renard had encouraged liberal use of weapons despite the chance of wasted ordnance, convincing him that the Frenchman had negotiated a monumental payment from his European clients.
“I’ll take my chances. It may waste torpedoes, but Pierre’s not too particular about the operational costs of this mission.
After Henri agreed, Jake aimed his voice at Remy.
“How’s weapon one looking?”
“Fine, Jake.”
“Can I cut the wire?”
“I recommend against it,” Remy said.
“You always recommend against it. But do I really need to guide weapon one?”
“Only if target five tries to evade in the next — I’d say — three minutes.”
“Cut the wire to tube one,” Jake said. “Henri, have tube one backhauled and reloaded with a slow-kill weapon.”
As the French mechanic relayed orders to the torpedo technicians and managed their efforts, Jake addressed Remy.
“Assign tubes one and two to gunboat five, tubes three and four to gunboat six, and tubes five and six to frigate three. Have the seekers wake up eleven miles away, medium-speed run, anti-surface mode.”
Remy acknowledged the order and turned to the technician beside him to verify he adjusted the presets to each weapon. But an unsolicited burst of chirps and whistles froze him.
“That’s a new one,” Jake said. “What’s it mean?”
“I’m not sure,” Remy said. “I’m waiting for the system to finish its voice recognition.”
“So, it is a new message we haven’t heard?”
The sonar expert delayed his answer while pressing his muffs into his ears.
“Yes,” Remy said. “It’s a new message. But now I hear a Doppler shift on target five. Target five is turning away.”
Jake slid around the navigation table and stood behind his sonar guru. He slapped the shoulders of the technicians seated on either side of him.
“You — torpedo presets. You — dolphin communications. Figure out what they said and send them a confirmation.”