Renard swallowed and lowered his glass. “I’m having six slow-kills flown to the Fifth Fleet from our inventory, as well as six limpets. They’ll attempt to mate them to at least one submarine for the rescue mission, but I’m not hopeful. The problem is timing. There’s already one American submarine searching for the Indiana, and it won’t have the time to load our weapons. Therefore, the bulk of the combat, if not all of it, will fall to you and Dmitry.”
Jake tried to avoid cynicism, but an inner voice hampered his enthusiasm for the forming mission. It nagged him with the ugly truth that part of him had wanted the Goliath to be destroyed when stolen three months ago, so that he could escape the wearisome cycle of flirting with and cheating death. “I don’t mean to be an ass, but what are the Americans doing to fix their own problem?”
The Frenchman frowned. “They’re deploying a legion of decoys to overwhelm the Iranians with false targets. That’s no trivial matter in hostile waters. Given the tension, there won’t be any overt violation of Iran’s national boundary, which means no surface ships or aircraft. So, as you can imagine, an American submarine must handle the task. I’m not sure, but they may be doing it manually by releasing divers.”
Eyeing the shredded beef on his plate, Jake jabbed a fork into the meat and then took a bite. While chewing, he noticed others at the table eating in silence. He swallowed. “So, that’s it, then?”
Renard washed down a bite of spiced chicken. “Unless anyone wishes to add ideas or challenge what we’ve discussed. I was truthful when I said I invited brainstorming.”
Jake watched heads shaking. “I guess not. It’s crazy, but it’s perfectly crazy, just like the type of mission we’re designed to handle.” The mission’s concept was already burdening him with anxiety, but his hope for redemption compelled him. “When do we leave?”
“As soon as your American riders get here.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “Was it too much to ask them to trust us without babysitters?”
“Far too much. But don’t worry about them slowing us down. They’ll be at your ships before we finish dinner. The Americans understand the urgency. Your ships’ provisions will be loaded soon, and you’ll all be underway before midnight.”
CHAPTER 5
Jazani considered the mood in Ghadir-957 sullen. Secrets between eighteen men on a hundred-foot vessel were rare, and whispers and facial expressions revealed the truth. Although his small crew performed their duties, they knew something had gone wrong, and they were worried.
In a moment of full candor, he realized his men were scared.
After waking from a fitful nap in his miniscule stateroom’s bunk, he brushed his teeth, grabbed a cup of tea from the galley, and walked to the control room.
Seated forward of his undersized executive officer, two sonar technicians listened for the sounds around their submarine.
As Jazani took his seat beside the smallish man, he addressed his second-in-command, whose drooping eyes revealed a struggle for alertness. “Are you finding real combat boring?”
The executive officer slid a muff behind his ear. “I find this quite boring, sir, but I wasn’t aware this qualified as combat.”
“Under the sea, ninety percent or more of combat is finding your enemy.” Jazani scowled as he realized he’d accepted the Americans as his enemies. Until the ambush on the Virginia-class, he’d considered the undersea gamesmanship a miniaturized version of a Cold War between rivals. He wondered how the gambit with the hostile weapon had redefined the game.
Seated forward of the conversation, the talkative technician slid a muff behind his ear. “It seems to me that we found our enemy twelve hours ago but let him escape.”
The Ghadir’s commander sighed. “Don’t start with that again.”
“I thought a complaining sailor was a healthy sailor.”
“There’s a limit to the effectiveness of rehashing the past.”
The thin man offered a coy smile. “But you said you can’t afford men suppressing their dissent.”
“Did you really just quote me verbatim?”
“Yes, sir. I have a pretty good memory.”
The executive officer interrupted. “He can quote the entire Koran. I’ve seen him recite some uncommon verses, and the entire crew thinks he’s a genius.”
Modest, the sailor qualified his ability. “I once had it all memorized, but I forgot half of it. It takes constant practice to maintain proficiency.”
“Impressive.” Jazani waved his hand. “But that’s no reason to push my generosity.”
“I agree, sir, but it’s frustrating being overlooked in this scenario. Everyone on board knows we should’ve shot a heavyweight torpedo. We all wanted to, and we should’ve been allowed. I know you wanted to, also, sir. But you can’t complain because you’re the captain.”
Jazani enjoyed the matching of wits and technology with the Americans, but killing was a separate matter. Afraid to look inward for the answer, he baited his second-in-command to end the dissent. “XO, what’s your opinion?”
“You know my opinion, sir, and you can trust me to keep it to myself. I’m a naval professional, and I follow the orders of my commanding officer, as long as he follows the lawful orders of my admiralty.”
“There you have it.” Jazani turned to the thin sailor. “We are but a military asset under orders. As its commanding officer, I helped target the American submarine. By helping coordinate the dolphins’ movements, you helped me with the targeting. Parts in a proficient machine, all of us.”
The talkative sailor’s tone became pensive. “True, but why is our machine not working now? The dolphins were doing great, but now they’re struggling. The mothership reports that they’ve rested and fed, but they can’t find our target.”
“How long until their next break?”
“Any time from ten minutes ago to almost two hours from now.”
“Do we have local control, or is the mothership in charge?”
“The dolphins veered too far from the mothership about two hours ago. So, they gave me local control. But you’re making a good point, sir. I should send them back before they go too far.”
“Agreed. Send them to their mothership. They’ll be more useful in the daylight anyway.”
Jazani sipped tea from his cup, lowered it, and aimed his voice at his executive officer. “Any update from the divers?”
The short man shook his head. “Nothing. They’re walking through the mud, confused like everyone else. Do you want to head shallow and stream their video?”
“Yes. Take us shallow and raise the radio mast. Get the periscope up, too, and see what’s around us. Snorkel and top off the battery while you’re at it.”
As the submarine ascended, the wind-blown swells rocked the deck. The panorama from the photonics mast showed a starlit night, the rumbling diesel engine confirmed the charging of the Ghadir’s main battery, and the video from the pair of Persian divers on the strait’s floor showed conical swaths of light. The bright cones illuminated stirred mud and the anchor chain holding a frigate above the location where an American submarine should have been.
“Have you seen enough, sir?”
“Yeah. This is disconcerting.” On his monitor, Jazani shut off the view of the divers. “But keep the radio mast up. I want to hear what’s going on with the task force. Maybe somebody’s found something to clear up this mess.”
“You sound like you blame yourself.”