Jake sighed.
“Maybe. I’m not so sure.”
“We’re fighting the right fight, Jake. Whether the damage creates a coup, an exit from the European Union, or both will be up to Greek politicians. But creating pressure for the coup is all we can do with our meager resources.”
Jake raised his gaze to Henri.
“Did you just call my submarine ‘meager’?”
“Why, yes. Yes, I did.”
“Well played, challenging my pride.”
“I was growing weary of your whining.”
“Fine. I was just killing time to avoid thinking about how guilty I feel sinking a helpless tanker. Let’s get it done and see what the Greek Navy has to say about it.”
“I believe it’s called the Hellenic Navy.”
“Whatever. After I turn this tanker into a flash of flame, I’m going to have a respectable fleet steaming across the Aegean Sea for my ass. And somehow I’m going to turn it away with — how should we characterize our slow-kill weapons?”
“Less-than-lethal?”
“Maybe. Or semi-lethal. Or quasi-humane. But trying not to kill anyone while fighting naval battles is bizarre.”
“It was your idea to invent such weapons.”
“Yeah, it was. I don’t think I could stomach these missions without them.”
“And I doubt that people would hire us without them,” Henri said. “If you cripple a warship with a weapon that can spare the crew, it’s a quite different affair from cracking a keel and sending the crew to their graves.”
Jake grabbed the elevated conning platform’s polished railing for balance as the Scorpène-class submarine, Specter, rolled under the swells at periscope depth. He swung his buttocks into the bulkhead-mounted foldout chair, looked to his display screen, and saw a satellite view of his target — an Iranian tanker bound for Greece’s Revithoussa Liquefied Natural Gas Terminal. He reached for the touchpad and unmuted his microphone as the steel blue eyes of his boss and mentor blinked on the screen.
“I can only assume you were talking about me whilst on mute?” Renard asked.
“There’s no fooling you,” Jake said.
“I hope it wasn’t all bad.”
“Not all of it, but it was all accurate.”
The Frenchman grunted.
“Much as I’d enjoy comparing notes on my character flaws, my commanders have weapons in the water.”
“Dmitry launched already?”
“Five minutes before you,” Renard said. “I want his weapon to hit first, since he’ll have to run from helicopters again.”
“They almost got him last time, and the Iranians learned their lesson, if I remember right.”
“You remember correctly. Their tankers are getting helicopter escorts all the way from the Arabian Sea to the Suez Canal. Two helicopters are attempting to protect Dmitry’s target now.”
“But you think Dmitry’s getting away this time without any problems?”
“We waited just long enough for the Iranians to become complacent. They’re getting comfortable after a week of quiet. And Dmitry has also learned his lesson. On his present attack, he cut the guidance wire to his torpedo and left the area already. He’s probably half way to Socotra.”
“Good thinking. I’d hate to lose my newest buddy.”
The Frenchman frowned.
“That sounded sarcastic.”
“Well, shit, Pierre. You knew I liked Terry before you invited him to join us, but Dmitry’s spent more time trying to kill me than getting to know me.”
“This opportunity against Greece came upon me rapidly, and our ships were well placed in France after the Crimea mission. I couldn’t refuse it, despite the challenging timing. The Wraith was in Taiwan and close enough to reach the Arabian Sea to be useful.”
Jake recalled flashes of his self-proclaimed maverick heroism when he stole the Russian commander’s submarine from the Malaysian Navy.
“I’m more worried about the Wraith than Dmitry and his band of Russian recruits. I’m very fond of that submarine, having stolen it for you.”
“I have a small contingent of Frenchmen on the Wraith to render technical expertise.”
“Technical, huh? Do you mean technology like knives and small arms for hand-to-hand combat, if needed?”
“Four of them have commando training, should the need arise for internal security.”
“And you have a bunch of translators, I assume?”
“Four of them, each fluent in three languages covering Russian, English, French, and Arabic.”
Jake studied Renard’s face for signs of doubt and saw none. But he probed.
“This is your least planned mission ever, isn’t it?”
“Perhaps. What of it?”
Searching for an argument, Jake clenched his jaw and came up empty.
“I just don’t like the concept of vandalizing and running. It’s like a ‘smash and grab’ without the ‘grab’. It didn’t work so well in the Black Sea, and you planned that out for months.”
“I did plan it for months, and it worked out just fine. If I recall, we earned our pay and netted our greatest profit ever.”
“Only because your deepest contingency plans bailed us out of a stalemate at the last second.”
“And such contingency plans would avail us in this scenario as well, I assure you.”
“What plans? It sounds like you had three days to plan this one out.”
“Ye of little faith. Have I ever failed you in planning?”
“Yes! In Argentina!”
Renard blushed.
“Not entirely did I fail you there. And even after my client turned his back on me, I was able to adjust the plan to work out in our favor. Why are you so damned worried, man?”
“You didn’t need to bring Dmitry into our gang so fast,” Jake said. “You could’ve let me and Terry handle it. You could’ve kept the Wraith out of this.”
“I may not have stolen the Wraith, but it is mine, and you know how attached I am to my possessions.”
“I still don’t think you needed it attacking tankers in the Arabian Sea.”
“Subtlety, my friend. You’re thinking in terms of pure military goals. I’m thinking in terms of political fallout and social panic. We need to flex our muscle on both sides of the Suez to create the full impact. And it will also focus the Hellenic fleet on the tankers and away from Terry’s ultimate aim.”
“Maybe.”
“Regardless, it’s a perfect opportunity to bring Dmitry into the fold and test his commitment to our mercenary life.”
“Terry and I have risked our lives for each other. Dmitry will still be a wildcard after this mission’s over.”
“We’ll cross that bridge of trust at the appropriate time.”
Renard’s face angled away from the screen.
“Take a look at the aerial footage,” he said. “The Americans were kind enough to follow Dmitry’s tanker with an unmanned aerial vehicle.”
Jake toggled his screen in time to see a ball of flaming gas rising from a severed ship. The sea around the tanker whitened as Volkov’s torpedo vaporized the water below the keel, lifting it and then cracking it.
“Dang,” he said. “That’s a lot of rapid destruction.”
“Indeed. And your weapon will be next.”
“Right. Can I expect to be chased down after it happens?”
“No, you’re in the clear. You’ll face quite a different threat than Dmitry.”
“You still see no military assets within fifty miles of me?”
“No, and you’ll clear the area before any new ones could deploy. You needn’t worry about a thing.”
“If you say so.”
Jake watched his screen in silence as the icon of his torpedo crept up on the unsuspecting tanker. He felt the air move, and he craned his neck over his shoulder.