“I’ll set it up, Dmitry.”
Volkov’s translator seemed unhappy with the low-baud solution to the problem that had sent an accurate heavyweight torpedo at the Wraith two days earlier. “Can’t you go shallow and raise an antenna?”
Commander Hatcher intercepted the question. “You’ve heard the crew talk about hull popping?”
“Well, yeah. I admit that I’d forgotten about that.”
“Even in these shallow waters we’re hearing it. If we go shallow, the water pressure drops, our hull expands, and our popping could be heard. High-frequency downloads will have to wait.”
Anatoly’s voice echoed off his console. “Our weapon has detonated under the first Ghadir. One, two…. three and now a fourth submunition has attached. And… now they’re exploding.”
Volkov folded his arms across his chest. “Perfect.”
“Hull popping. The Ghadir’s coming shallow.”
“Watch the second Ghadir for a reaction.”
“Six knots is its best transit speed. I don’t think anything’s going to change unless it plans to snorkel or surface.”
The comment was like a punch to Volkov’s stomach. “I’ve been an idiot. Of course, it’s going to surface and snorkel for speed after I hit the other one. It’s not hiding or hunting, and its nation controls the air and surface over its own waters. Damn it. All ahead standard, make turns for thirteen knots!”
Anatoly snapped his jaw towards his commanding officer. “I’m not sure I can track it with our own flow noise at thirteen knots.”
“Do your best. Listen for hull popping. Listen for diesel noises. You may even hear it surface.”
Commander Hatcher appeared by Volkov’s side. “Shouldn’t you finish off the first Ghadir?”
“Excuse me?”
“It has two torpedo tubes and is a functional warship. Your humane holes have just prevented it from submerging.”
“There’s a good chance that my former students are on that ship. Good men. I see no reason to expend a torpedo in battering their ship further. I’ve removed them from the undersea battle, and I believe that’s sufficient.”
“I don’t.”
Volkov mustered a stern tone. “If you want that submarine sunk, call your friends at the fifth fleet and have them do it. I have more important things to do. Am I clear, commander?”
The American rider revealed his strength by holding the Russian’s glare. “Give me a communications buoy, and I’ll do just that.”
Volkov accepted the compromise. “Yes, but a fifteen-minute delay. I don’t want to give an easy clue of our location. The Iranians are sniffing all radio noise.”
The gray-bearded veteran hailed his commanding officer. “Fifteen-minute delay. I’ve got a communications buoy ready. I’m entering the Ghadir’s coordinates into the message. Commander Hatcher can dictate to me whatever he wants to add.”
Volkov canted his head towards the veteran. “He’ll take care of you and your buoy. Let it be on your conscience.”
The rider stormed away.
Anatoly’s voice ricocheted off his console. “Hull popping. The second Ghadir is coming shallow.” Thirty seconds later, he appended his findings. “And now I hear diesel noises. The second Ghadir’s accelerating. Blade rate’s increasing to its maximum speed of eleven knots.”
“Damn it. Increase speed to fifteen knots.”
The gray-bearded veteran relayed the order and added a warning. “Fifty-two minutes remaining on the battery at this speed.”
“I’m firing in fifteen.”
Anatoly added another concern. “The drones can’t keep up. They’ll be trailing us after fifteen minutes, but we’ll still have them both under wire control.”
“Very well. We’ll reposition them later. Set them to send out active pings every thirty seconds.”
The sonar ace looked over his shoulder. “Maximum power?”
“Yes. The entire Iranian fleet knows of our general location now, and I don’t care if some distant vessel hears us. What’s important is rousting the drifting submarines.”
“With that logic, you could go active on our bow sonar.”
Volkov considered it. “Tempting, but no. That incurs as much risk as reward. Just the drones.”
“We’re setting the drones to maximum power pings, recurring every thirty seconds.”
The next quarter of an hour tested Volkov’s patience, as he expected a hidden, drifting submarine to spring from nowhere and destroy him. But his fears proved unfounded as he reduced the distance to his next target.
The sonar ace brought the anticipated news. “We’re within firing range of the Ghadir, with a half-mile margin of error.”
Volkov double-checked the assumptions. “Verify the weapon has enough fuel while the target sustains eleven knots.”
“Done. I had accounted for its maximum speed in my initial torpedo fuel calculations.”
“Then we’re ready.”
“Yes. It’s time, Dmitry.”
“Shoot tube three.”
“Weapon two is swimming out of tube three.”
Volkov called out to his gray-bearded veteran. “That’s enough high-speed running. Slow us to four knots. Come right to course one-one-zero. Use the turn to slow us.”
As the ship’s vibrations receded, Anatoly curled forward in intense listening. He seemed mesmerized in hearing the world around him, but after several minutes, he shook his head. “Nothing. There’s nothing new out there.”
“What about the damaged Ghadir?”
“On the surface, running pumps to stay afloat.”
“I can’t wait to learn what Commander Hatcher’s request leads to. I don’t think his American colleagues are as aggressive as he is.”
“You could come shallow and find out.”
“Not yet. I don’t want to give the Iranians our location. Just a single exposed antenna could do it.”
“There’s nothing around us, Dmitry. Not even merchants.”
“And what about high-altitude reconnaissance craft? The Iranians use unmanned aerial vehicles, too. The consensus is that a merchant ship picked up Jake’s radio broadcasts to target him. But I’m not so sure it wasn’t a UAV.”
“Under that logic, we’re rolling the dice every time we expose any mast above the surface. Don’t you at least want to download the dolphin calls? That’s a tactical necessity now.”
Volkov sighed. “You’re right again. However, it can wait. According to Jake’s findings, the dolphins are too far away to matter.”
“That’s true if there’s only one pair of them.”
The American rider interrupted. “You may be able to reduce your risk in broadcasting. We’ve got a destroyer stationed outside Iranian waters to control the sky, and we’ve got a littoral combat ship and a few riverine boats supporting it. You can use low-power, directional high-frequency broadcasts to contact any of them. Pierre’s sending their locations periodically in his feed.”
Volkov nodded. “I’ll try that when I need to emit. First, I want to just listen.”
“An excellent decision. We need an update.”
“And I need to snorkel. I’ll have to chance it.” Risking the hull popping and the antenna exposure, Volkov ordered his ship shallow, raised his radio mast, and leaned over his tactical table. The dolphin call download arrived, followed by an update of known tactical assets in the battle. On the chart, the California appeared near the Indiana, its exact location a mystery. Iranian surface craft were racing east towards Pakistan, suggesting knowledge of the Indiana’s long crawl towards safe waters. “Damn.”
Beside him, Hatcher agreed. “They figured it out. That’s why they gave up on this barrier and sent everything northeast. Taking out two Ghadirs will help, but it won’t solve the problem. The Goliath has to find a way to load the Indiana and bring it out to the south.”