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“We kicked that idea around, but that’s a lot of work. Getting material in place, covering that full area of the blast damage, and staging the equipment. It would take days, and it would be loud.”

“We’ve got days, but let’s discuss the other concerns before committing to any loud repairs. Actually, my next two concerns can be achieved in one operation. Do you think your guys can drag the towed array from the stabilizer to the front of the ship?”

Both divers shrugged as the lieutenant answered. “Yeah. I’m sure we can. But ‘how far’ is the question. I don’t want the guys getting too far away from the boat.”

“Any length you can give me is good. It’s our only chance of hearing.”

Lieutenant Hansen frowned. “How could you access the data?”

“There’s a diagnostic port back at the towed array system’s control station we can tap into with a laptop and headphones.”

“Huh. So, we could hear, and we could have torpedoes, too.”

Causey recalled his third concern. “That’s my intent, but the ideal situation is to remain undetected. So, while your guys are deploying the array, I could use their assessment of the trail we’re leaving in the mud.”

Both divers narrowed their eyes, and the senior chief challenged the comment. “Does that mean you expect enemy divers in the water? I mean, who else would be looking for our tracks?”

“I don’t know. I’m asking for the assessment as a precaution.”

“The lieutenant and I had talked about arming our guys, but we decided against it for this first reconnaissance trip. But given what you just said, I say we arm them before they leave the hull.”

“That’s another thing we agree on. Bring them back, senior chief. Let’s put some weapons in their hands and have our guys pull the towed array sonar in the wrong direction like the captain said.”

The Indiana’s commander remembered his final immediate need. “As long as they’re coming back, can you have them retrieve a half a dozen communications buoys?”

Lieutenant Hansen reached to the deck for a whiteboard. “I’ll write it out for the guys to send the word. Can you still write messages into the buoys after they’ve been immersed?”

“We should, but we’ll find a way if not. I’ll want your guys to take one out with them on their next trip and release it to the surface.”

“Consider it done, sir. But why not just send one of my guys to the surface with a global satellite phone? They’d need to ascend in stages with delays, but they could do it.”

Appreciating the good ideas coming his way, Causey left the latest one undecided. “I like it except for the risk of detection. If the Iranians sniff it, they’ll know it’s us. I still prefer the option to have the communications buoys transmit with a delay, but I’ll keep your idea as backup plan. But getting a GPS fix passively would be useful.”

“I can do that.”

“Great.”

“I can also have my guys swim off our track and back again to put some lateral distance between us and the buoys.”

“Yes. As far as they can go without losing them.”

“Don’t worry about them, sir. The biggest risk is that they’ll like their chances better without us and swim to shore. They’re swimming machines. I wouldn’t worry about their safety. I’d worry about them running away.”

Though the officer’s tone was joking, the concept of swimmers abandoning the submarine took hold in Causey’s mind as he walked away. He questioned if his crew could quit their ship to save themselves. As he marched around the corner of an equipment cabinet, a second-class petty officer he recognized as an electronics technician inspected a huge breaker box, the size of a man’s torso.

The sailor’s businesslike visage showed courage over his underlying fear. “Captain.”

Causey doubted the man would abandon the ship unless ordered. “What are you up to?”

“Checking for arcing and sparking. The chief wants to make sure the impact didn’t set us up for nasty shorts.”

“Good thinking.” As the Indiana’s commander followed a meandering path to the lab serving as his command center, he heard the gentle hiss of steam and rumble of turbines. While it worked at low output, the power plant throbbed through his feet. The slight down angle lifting the stern from the mud made the walk aft an uphill trek.

The first group of sailors he found was sitting in a circle playing Texas Hold’em. A middle-aged chief petty officer looked up defensively. “It’s just for bragging rights, sir. No money’s exchanging hands.”

“That’s good. Who’s winning?”

“Gomez, sir. He’s got X-ray vision or some wicked voodoo working against us.”

“Keep playing for bragging rights. I don’t want to hear any whining if he takes all your paychecks.” Causey stepped away to hoots and appreciated the men finding distractions from their dilemma. The mood fit the reality — a cautious optimism that they’d limp to safety, but the question nagged him about which men would leave the Indiana if offered a rescue vehicle. His intuition told him none of them wanted to abandon their ship, but he reminded himself to keep tabs on their mental endurance.

When he reached the lab, he found his second-in-command huddled over the chart with several officers.

“XO, I just spoke with the divers, and they’ve agreed to deploy the towed array sonar forward. They’ll also inspect our trail in the mud like you suggested.”

“I’ll work with the sonar chief and divers to deploy the array, sir.”

“Very well, but there’s time for that later. First tell me what’s on your mind here.”

The executive officer tapped a pencil on the chart. “Here’s where we were when we were hit.” He moved the pencil. “Here’s where we are now. We’ve covered twenty-five miles, best estimate from our speed over ground. That puts a lot of uncertainty between us and ground zero.”

“The Iranians have already figured out that we’re not at ground zero. What’s their next move?”

“I’m assuming our trail is wiped clean at ground zero, sir. The current’s strong enough that it should be erasing our track everywhere we’ve been within hours of our passing.”

“To be verified, but that’s probably true. Go on.”

“The first thing they’ll do is a circular search outward. They have enough submarines to do it.”

“That would be role reversal. They normally wait for us to come to them. It’ll be a slow search with slow submarines. They can’t make more than twelve knots on a good day.”

The executive officer’s eyes lit up. “Agreed, sir. This is where it gets challenging. If they think this through, they’ll conclude one of two things. Either they hit something other than us and we got away, or we’re alive on the bottom. In the first case, they’d give up and go home.”

Causey nodded. “Of course. And we’ll ignore that case as good luck we couldn’t hope for.”

“Right, sir. In the second case, they have to consider that they hit our engine room.”

“Like ninety-nine point nine percent of all torpedo tail chases.”

“So, they’ll think we’re stranded without propulsion but with a functional tactical center and fully loaded torpedo room. They’d be scared to get near us because we’d be silent and lethal until our battery runs out, which is days running just hotel loads.”

Causey narrowed his eyes. “That possibility may be driving them crazy. They should expect us to be stranded but able to fight. That could slow their search a lot.”

“Right, sir. Thanks to that, the odds are in our favor of us slipping out of here and into Pakistani waters.”

The Indiana’s commander raised his palm. “Not so fast, XO. Let’s say the Iranians somehow figure out what’s really going on. We need to account for that. Then what?”