“This is Matt.”
“Hi, Matt. Olivia McDonald. Is now a good time to talk?”
His tone remained strong but carried the expected reverence. “Olivia McDonald? Of course. How can I help?”
“I’m running a special operation tonight. I can’t explain it on an unsecured line, but you’ll like it. The only thing is, I need you in my office ASAP.”
He feigned the requisite hesitance, but she heard the enthusiastic edge she’d remembered from years ago. The unspoken promise of reward weighed on the conversation, and the prestige of having helped Olivia McDonald might suffice as his compensation. “Well, it’s date night with my wife.”
“I’d be happy to treat you and your wife to an extra special makeup date night, if that would be okay.”
“Can I call her and get back to you?”
“Of course.”
After she hung up, she glanced at a screen showing the latest infrared UAV image over the Goliath. With the stolen ship submerged, the pair of pursuing periscopes marked its position. The fifteen-minute lapse between the Wraith and Specter’s past two locations gave Olivia her estimate of the Goliath’s speed at eight point seven knots.
A timer in the window’s corner reached zero, and a new image rolled down her screen. Under a distant force’s influence, a mouse cursor jumped to the fuzzy hues of the periscopes and stopped. The time and distance between consecutive UAV snapshots generated a new speed for the Goliath.
Eight point four knots.
A geeky support analyst’s face in another corner window looked at her, and its mouth moved. “I just marked a change in speed, Miss McDonald.”
She unmuted her microphone and responded. “I noticed.”
“That’s an average, of course. In reality, it’s got to be moving slower than eight point four knots. The UAV was in use. So I couldn’t sneak a peek for you. If you’d authorize it, I could—”
“No.”
“Um, okay.”
Her inner girl felt shame for snapping, but the beast reminded her of her status. Then the monster reconsidered and commanded her to display gentleness. “I mean, it’s not possible.”
“You mind if I ask what’s going on with these ships?”
She lied. “It’s a training exercise. At least that’s what they’re telling me. I want you to help me watch them and make sure.”
“Got you covered, ma’am.”
A form in the finalized night vision image caught her eye. “What’s that new lighter patch?”
“I just saw it. I’m not sure yet, but whatever it is, it’s partially submerged.”
“You don’t know what it is?”
“Sorry, ma’am. I’m best with urban areas.”
“Did you capture a visual spectrum photograph?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t look at it yet. Hold on.”
As the dark sea replaced the night vision hues, her eye adapted to the overhead view of moonlit nature, and she shifted her mind to resolving the maritime riddle. “It’s got a feather, like the periscopes, only it’s softer.”
“A feather? You mean those small wakes?”
“Right.”
“Okay, ma’am. I’ll have to trust you on that. You know a lot about submarines.”
Noting the new feather’s motion in the same direction as the submarines, she realized it was either part of the Goliath or attached to it. She then deduced the new wake’s source. Renard had ordered buoys attached to the nets, but the transport vessel had dragged them under until it slowed. Now one of them was breaching the surface. “I know more about submarines than I wanted to know. It’s amazing what you learn by spending weeks on one.”
“Your secret knowledge is safe with me.”
“Much appreciated.”
“Who’d believe a chronic whiskey abuser anyway?”
Her cell phone’s vibration signaled Renard’s hailing.
“I’m putting you on mute. See if you can get me an image during a free UAV window.”
“Will do, ma’am.”
She answered her ringing phone. “Calling to gloat prematurely?”
Renard sounded positive. “How I do enjoy your subtle jousting.”
“We’re racing a clock. What’s on your mind?”
“I thought by your greeting you already knew.”
“You called to tell me you slowed the Goliath. I’m dying to hear you brag about it.”
“And then negate it as a premature celebration.”
“Depending on your tone.”
“My tone is rational.”
She agreed. “Okay. I didn’t mean to be a bitch. It’s just that…”
“I understand. We’re all reeling from this, but we’ll succeed if we endure together.”
“Go ahead. I noticed you slowed the Goliath.”
“Well, no. Temperamental MESMA plants slowed the Goliath. Two of them tripped offline. The new speed is seven point six knots. That now leaves us twelve hours to Iranian waters.”
“That’s still the blink of an eye in submarine time, and they’ll get a plant or two back up soon enough.”
“They may, but I trust they’ll struggle to hold eight knots from here.”
As she dissected his mood, she sensed a dichotomy. A strong optimism masked a weakened but lingering fear. “At least the nets and your finicky power plants are giving us breathing room. You got anything else?”
“No, young lady. That’s all the good news I can muster in one telephone call.”
“Get at least one of your plans in motion, Pierre.”
“Already in progress. I shall update you soon.”
She hung up and reclined in her chair to rest her mind. Closing her eyes, she sensed her anxiety’s draining of her energy, and she questioned how long she could endure the risk of the Goliath’s escape.
Her phone vibrated, and when she looked at it, she noticed she’d missed a call from CIA agent Matthew Williams.
This time, she answered. “Hello, Matthew.”
“My wife’s okay with me working tonight. I’m on my way.”
“Good. Text me what you want for dinner, and I’ll have it delivered with some good coffee. It’s going to be an all-nighter.”
CHAPTER 10
Terry Cahill sensed a dark force pervading the Specter, and he feared confronting it.
But he had to face it.
With the Goliath tracking north, he kept the Specter a mile abaft the transport ship’s starboard quarter. The mirror image Wraith trailed the stolen vessel on its port side, deeper than Cahill.
He sought a private conversation with Henri and joined the Frenchman at his ship’s control station. “How are you doing, mate?”
“As well as can be expected.”
“Not our best day, is it?”
“It’s taking an effort to maintain my composure.”
The Australian challenged the dark force. “We’re all still in shock. I think Jake’s taking it the worst.”
The Frenchman’s assertiveness surprised him. “Are you challenging his frame of mind?”
“I wouldn’t call it a challenge. Nor would I necessarily call it his frame of mind.”
“Perhaps you can clarify your meaning.”
Cahill considered tempering his response, but he opted for candor. “Right, then. I’m challenging his frame of mind.”
“Watch yourself.”
“I don’t mean to start a power struggle, but it’s a valid concern.”
“That depends what your concern really is. He’s obviously emotional, but what do you hope to achieve by confronting him?”