“Give me the status of the drone in tube five.”
“The drone is connected to and powered by its wire. Ready for launch.”
“Launch tube five.”
The toad-head twisted as Remy reported. “Drone one is swimming out of tube five. Drone one is clear of our hull and deployed. I have wire connectivity and confirmation of propulsion.”
“Set the drone’s speed to ten knots, straight ahead of our track, depth one hundred meters.”
The toad-head looked downward as fingers danced over a capacitive touchscreen. “The drone is at maximum speed, straight ahead of our track, depth one hundred meters.”
“Set drone one to a full-power active search.”
Again, the sonar ace tapped his display. “Drone one has begun a full-power active search.”
With his acoustic position optimized, Jake had his radio mast raised, and he reconnected with Volkov and his boss, who greeted him. “You made it.”
“Yeah. I’ve got the drone deployed on an active search, and I’ve got the bow system on secure active. I haven’t seen any returns yet, thankfully, and the sonar guys aren’t hearing anything.”
“Sometimes it’s good to be alone.”
“Let’s hope it lasts. Now it’s Dmitry’s turn.”
“Agreed. Go ahead and sprint, Dmitry.”
The Russian commander acknowledged the Frenchman’s order, and then his screen went blank, leaving only Renard’s face on the connection. “Send me a data link so I can share it with the Omani patrol boats.”
Jake looked to his mechanic, who nodded and offered his raised thumb.
“Henri said he’s already linked with you, Pierre.”
“Sorry, Jake. It must’ve been a delay. I see it now.”
Paying attention to the background noise behind the Frenchman’s voice, Jake glared at his boss’ image on a display. Red lights and shadows replaced his plush hotel room. “Where are you?”
“Aboard the Omani patrol craft, Dhofar, one nautical mile behind you. More accurately, one nautical mile behind where Dmitry will be. We’re holding to the port side of the Goliath, to strike its engine room, should it surface.”
“How’d you manage that?”
“Helicopters have been flying nonstop through the night. I took a ride and requested a detour to the Dhofar when the patrol boats approached the Goliath.”
“I have to admit, that’s a nice personal touch.”
“I wanted to be near the action.”
A heavy swell lifted and then lowered the submarine, freezing the Frenchman’s face while the mast submerged. Jake grabbed a polished railing to balance himself.
The deck steadied, and the Frenchman’s face reappeared.
“Can you hear me, Pierre?”
“Yes. Go ahead.”
“Have you made a decision yet?”
“About stopping the Goliath?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve made a decision, but I’ll share it when Dmitry’s available. I’ll tell you all at the same time.”
Jake doubted his boss had reached his verdict, but he trusted Renard enough to believe he was finalizing a solution. “Okay. I can wait another twenty-five minutes.”
As the Wraith sprinted behind the Goliath, Jake had his Specter scouring the seas ahead of him for threats, discovering nothing. But his sonar ace heard his twin submarine racing forward. “I hear the Wraith behind the Goliath now.”
“Antoine, let one of the junior guys keep tabs on the Wraith. I want you listening out there for surprises.”
“Okay, Jake. I will. You’ve drifted far enough behind the Goliath, haven’t you? Time to speed up?”
Jake looked at the central chart, where Cahill nodded, and he agreed with his sonar ace. “Henri, make turns for eight point two knots.” As minutes passed, time tested his patience, but he trusted in his sonar ace’s ears to verify the absence of unwanted submarines.
Remy betrayed his inability to obey Jake. “The Wraith is slowing and rising. I hear hull popping.”
“I told you to listen for surprises, not to the Wraith.”
“I hear everything. Would you prefer I didn’t?”
“Fine.”
“Now the Wraith is deploying a drone and raising a mast. I expect you’ll have radio contact with Dmitry soon.”
Moments later, Volkov’s face appeared on the screen, with his translator, who spoke for him. “We just deployed our drone and are broadcasting secure active transmissions from the bow sonar. We’ll have the dolphins in the water soon, too.”
Renard was enthusiastic. “Excellent. We’ll have a group meeting once the dolphins are deployed, and I’ll share my plan.”
Jake recognized the time to shift the geometry of the team’s listening devices. “Antoine, steer our drone right thirty degrees.”
Remy’s fingers danced over his screen. “Our drone is steered right thirty degrees.”
While waiting for Volkov and his crew to load the cetaceans into a torpedo tube for their swim, Jake sought a casual conversation. He considered speaking in French to escape the Australian’s ears, but he thought better of alienating Cahill. “Any news from Olivia?”
“Nothing useful. She’s checking what she can, and so far she’s demonstrated that we’re free from interference by merchant vessels and surface combatants.”
“She still has no idea who’s behind this?”
“No, unfortunately not.”
“Not even anything connected to Iran?”
“No. Neither she nor I see any evidence for Iranian involvement. It’s quite possible the hijackers are making for their waters just because they know we’ll hesitate to follow.”
“Well, we are hesitating, aren’t we?”
There was slight delay in the Frenchman’s response. “Of course.”
“Then we’re running out of time. I can’t wait to hear your plan.”
“Patience. Dmitry will be back soon.”
Volkov’s voice rang in the background of the Wraith’s control room, and the translator snapped back in Russian. He then turned his face to the monitor as his translator shared his update. “Our drone detected a submerged contact. Possibly two. We’re holding the dolphins back while we’re analyzing. We’re sending information over the data feed.”
Jake looked to Remy. “Antoine?”
“I see the data feed. I’m already listening.”
Jake let his ace listen during a deathly silence.
“Nothing, Jake. There’s nothing making noise in that direction.”
“You’re sure?”
The toad-head turned, and its face shot an angry look.
“Sorry, Antoine. I had to ask.”
Volkov’s translator offered an update. “Dmitry’s confirmed it. There are two submerged contacts. They’re at zero speed. The drone is now silent and stopped.”
Jake darted to a console, leaned into the screen, and glared at his boss’ face. “The only question is who shoots which weapons.”
The red lighting aboard the Omani patrol boat painted an eerie aura around the Frenchman. Seeming reluctant, Renard paused before answering. “Agreed. Two slow-kills from Dmitry, since he’s closer.”
The translator confirmed. “Dmitry understands two slow-kills.”
“Launch now. I’ll inform the Omanis.”
Jake questioned an omission. “What about the yield?”
“Full yield. Twenty-four bomblets each.”
“You’re not afraid it’s a friendly submarine?”
Renard sounded confident. “No friendlies would be drifting as a pair in that location.”