“Markets, such as America?”
“Always in the mix are your countrymen, my friend. It’s the hazard of being a superpower.”
After replaying the chain of diplomatic events in his mind, Jake summarized it. “That means that America and Iran are at least faking some sort of friendship at a bargaining table.”
“Correct.”
“But American submarines still have to spy on Iran, since they’re growing their navy like gangbusters.”
“Correct.”
“And they’re concentrating their navy in the Strait of Hormuz, which controls a ton of oil flow.”
“Correct. Twenty percent of the world’s petroleum passes through the strait.”
“And the Iranians are good at building and operating submarines.”
“Correct.”
As his translator relayed the conversation to the Russian commander, Volkov offered his assessment in broken English. “In Russian Navy, we teach Iran good. Maybe too good.”
Renard used the break in Jake’s questioning to reassert himself. “As you might expect, I have a plan. However, this situation is so sudden and unusual that I’m open to brainstorming if desired. The mission itself is even open to challenge, but I’ve tentatively defined it with Miss McDonald’s concurrence as returning the Indiana intact with its crew to a friendly port.”
Jake furrowed his brow. “Friendly includes Pakistan?”
“For the sake of our mission, yes. But Oman is preferred as a destination, since its shorelines are closer to the Indiana’s expected location.”
As Jake continued the questioning, he suspected he was the commander most interested in the welfare of his fellow Americans, if he dared to consider himself a citizen. “Expected? We don’t know?”
“The Fifth Fleet has a good idea based upon the communications buoy’s location, the reported course the Indiana was on during its torpedo evasion, and a best estimate of the location of the detonation. But it’s uncertain until proven.”
Jake’s anxiety rose. “So, who’s looking, other than two dozen Iranian submarines?”
“The Americans are looking, too, I assure you. The shallow water is noisy, and the Indiana will be silent, but the Americans have coordinates and know the ship’s track.”
Sensing he’d become more emotional about the mission than his colleagues, Jake tried to appear relaxed by crossing his ankle over his leg and leaning back. “Then what about our constraints? The Americans won’t want us stepping on their toes, and we all want to make sure we don’t shoot each other.”
“Assuming the situation becomes violent, the United States doesn’t want to destroy the entire Iranian fleet, especially during the peace talks in Syria. Neither side wants a war. So, you can imagine that we’ve been commissioned to use our slow-kill weapons to compel interfering Iranian assets back to their piers.”
Jake snorted. “The situation’s already violent. I mean, the Iranians torpedoed an American submarine.”
“Aside from that.”
“What do you mean ‘aside from that’?”
Renard’s face softened with a pensive expression. “There’s no saber rattling. There’s no bragging. There’s no warning to the Americans to stay out of Iranian waters. There’s just diplomatic silence. It suggests uncertainty in the Iranian perspective of the event. It might even suggest a mistake.”
As the scenario angered him, Jake grimaced. “Come on, Pierre. There’s more to it than that. If it was a mistake, there’d be an apology. Olivia’s leaving something out.”
Renard raised his voice. “An American submarine got caught deep inside Iranian waters. What more must you know?”
An uncomfortable silence overfell the table.
“I’m sorry, Jake, but from what I understand, the Iranians had every right to strike, and they were humane in their selection of a lightweight weapon. It’s only their diplomatic spin about it that’s defying explanation, and that’s not presently our concern.”
The words hurt Jake. “You know damned well that America’s been putting its submarines in hostile waters for decades to help preserve world security. We — I mean they — have been policing the world for everyone’s benefit with their asses on the line since before we were born.”
Cahill sliced the growing tension. “You mean before most of us were born. Pierre’s getting long in the tooth, and me mate Henri’s not far behind him.”
After suppressing a weak smile, Renard regained control of his group. “Regardless of the philosophies and the ages of our team, we have a mission, one that might be legendary in scope. But we must agree upon it.”
Seeming to sense his moment to contribute, the Australian prophesized his ship’s role. “I assume you’ll want me to do the heavy lifting?”
The French boss nodded. “Indeed.”
“Well then, I see three obvious questions. Maybe your Taiwanese engineers can help model the answers.”
Renard shook his head. “I doubt it. We’re in a race against time. We know that the Iranians are looking for the Indiana as well.”
“Alright then. The first concern’s getting the Indiana into me cargo bed. I assume half the ship’s flooded. Getting underneath it’s going to be tough.”
Eyes sparkling, the Frenchman shared his solution. “I believe we can get the Indiana to rotate its stern up enough for you to get under the bulk of it.”
“How will the crew know when to rotate? I don’t imagine they’ll be waiting for me like that.”
“Communications is one-way at the moment. However, once you’re in close range, you’ll be able to communicate on an encrypted digital sonar. The Americans will share their software with us, which will handle the encryption and provide a regulated volume control to avoid broadcasting unnecessary sound.”
The Australian cocked his head. “I suppose that could work, but you’re limited in how far I can rotate me ship before the railguns would break the surface.”
“I didn’t say it would be easy.” Renard raised his glass of bubbling water towards Cahill. “I would trust only a world-class commanding officer to handle the job with the appropriate skill, instinct, and judgment.”
“I appreciate the confidence, mate, but I still have concerns about the weight. A Virginia-class half-filled with water may be too heavy for me. And if I can carry it, a third concern’s the torque on the Indiana’s hull. It could cause its bow to break off.”
“Which takes me to my next point. You’ll carry the Indiana to safety underwater.”
“The whole way?”
“Yes.”
“That limits me to something less than thirteen knots, depending how bad the drag is on a Virginia hull. I won’t be able to run from torpedoes.”
“You’ll have to slip away without attracting one.”
Through his translator, Volkov voiced a concern. “You want Jake and me to shoot the Iranians. That will protect Terry. That will also protect the Americans. And since we’re the ones shooting, we’ll be the ones being shot at.”
“Correct. The Specter and the Wraith are still the only ships in the world armed with slow-kill weapons. Until that changes, you and Jake are the only ones who can deter the Iranians without escalating this into a full-scale war.”
Jake wanted to offer the less-than-lethal weapons to the American submarines, but he wondered if the Virginia-class tactical system could handle the modified Black Sharks. “Can we give some slow-kills to the Americans?”