Another glance at the tactical feed from the Goliath’s system showed Causey a small swarm of Iranian helicopters. Flow noise made the transport ship easy to hear, and gunships and anti-submarine aircraft hovered nearby. They promised a losing battle, and his ship would be the first target to breach the surface. “Two railguns and a Phalanx against four Sea Cobras and two Sea Kings? We’d be screwed.”
The Australian’s tone carried a hint of hope. “Hold on now. Pierre’s update says the helos don’t have us pegged. They’re flying like they’re still trying to find us.”
“But they’re close. You can hear them.”
“Off and on, and not all of them at once. But yeah, they’re close.”
The Indiana’s commander grunted. “The torpedo’s following us passively, probably to avoid us tracking it and optimizing our evasion. Even though you turned and accelerated, you didn’t go to the surface and hit an all-out evasion. They may be still be thinking they can sneak it in on us quietly.”
“It’s possible, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it went active soon.”
Causey allowed himself to entertain expectations of surviving. “With Mister Slate’s sacrifice, we still shouldn’t surface, and with the helos being some distance away, we don’t have to worry about taking an air-dropped weapon. At least not yet.”
“I’d still like to know why the helos haven’t attacked us. I don’t want Jake sacrificing his ship for our sakes only for us to get sunk by those Sea Kings. It could be that they’re keeping their distance since they know our fleet carries anti-air missiles.”
The Indiana’s commander recalled his past briefings about the Frenchman’s forces. “That’s only the Specter and Wraith. You don’t carry Sidewinders because you can’t reload your tubes.”
“But they may not know that.”
“And I’m not sure I care why we’re so fortunate. We can maintain course and speed, and time works in our favor as we approach the end of Iranian waters.”
Apparently lost in the romance of speculation and analysis with his eyes aimed upward, Cahill continued. “It could be the proximity of the Laboon. I bet it’s close enough to scare them.”
The comment spurred Causey’s memory. He recalled having met the friendly destroyer’s commanding officer while waiting in line to buy a bag of chips at the Naval Exchange. Reminded of the fellow officer who now protected his life, his submarine, and his crew, he suddenly remembered their last conversation.
A prior-enlisted sonar technician, the man had been given a choice as he approached his twenty-second year of service. He could command the USS Laboon, or he could retire from the U.S. Navy and begin another career.
During a slow walk to their cars in the exchange’s parking lot, the prior-enlisted officer had admitted to the Indiana’s commander the decision’s difficulty. It had come down to a coin toss between joining his brother-in-law’s software company as a sales representative or leading a ship through deployments across the world. Given the destroyer’s timely air cover, Causey concluded the coin’s landing had worked to his liking. “I bet it is the Laboon. Let’s maintain course and speed and let the friendly air support get closer and stronger.”
Cahill pursed his lips. “No, mate. That’ll take too long, and I’ve dealt with this before.”
Causey smelled a white lie. “You’ve dealt with a situation just like this? More helicopters than you can shoot down before they could vaporize big chunks of your hull and mine?”
“Well, no. But I need to test the waters, so to speak, by heading up there and taking the offensive. I won’t let Jake wager his life because I was afraid to risk mine.”
“You want to pop up there and start a gunfight with your slow guns against small, agile targets that outnumber you?”
“You forget, or you may not yet know, that I’ve got Stinger missiles. A lot of them, and I’ve got one launcher for each hatch. That’s four teams, mate. Helicopters are the reason I’ve got them. I already have men staged, ready to climb through and shoot.”
Impressed, Causey nodded. “That evens things up, I admit. It changes things and brings up a tough question.”
“What’s that?”
“How ready and willing are the Iranians to take you on? They can talk about theories and plans amongst themselves, but you’ve taken out more aircraft in hostile engagements since the Goliath was commissioned than the rest of the world’s ships combined. That’s got to terrify any man who’s flying low on one of those helos.”
Cahill snorted. “There’s only one way to find out.”
Letting the Australian’s confidence motivate him, Causey warmed to the prospect of challenging the Persians on the surface. “I should blow my forward ballast tanks first. You can’t hold me above the water otherwise, and it would help our underwater dynamics.”
The Australian raised his eyebrows. “You’re right. As long as we’re going up, the noise doesn’t matter. I say you should do it now. The Goliath will adjust automatically.”
Habit compelled Causey to respond with the traditional affirmation of ‘very well’, but he choked back the statement, realizing the Australian mercenary effectively commanded both of their ships. “Thank you, Mister Cahill. Give me a moment.”
“Hurry, mate. I want to surface and get to top speed before Jake lets the Specter get snapped in half.”
Causey looked at the diving officer. “Get your guys to blow the forward group.”
“I’m on it, sir.” Lieutenant Hansen relayed the order to Senior Chief Spencer, who verbalized it to the divers.
Remembering his other task, the Indiana’s commander called out to a phone-talker. “Get the XO on the phone.”
The young sailor relayed the order and responded a moment later. “The XO’s on the line, sir.”
Causey yanked a handset from a cradle. “Captain here.”
“You wanted me, sir?”
“Yeah, XO. Get a modified abandon ship procedure together that gets us out of the engine room with small arms and communications equipment. Come up with something quick and dirty, and rehearse it with the chiefs. You’ve got ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes to develop it and rehearse it, sir?”
“With just the chiefs, yes. Iron out the details while you run through it with them. They’ll have enough know-how to pull something together with you.”
The executive officer’s newfound confidence remained strong in his voice. “I’ll take care of it, sir.”
A distant hiss caught Causey’s ear as he replaced the handset into its cradle. “Sounds like we’re blowing.”
Lieutenant Hansen confirmed it. “The guys reached the knocker valves, captain.”
The Australian echoed the affirmation. “You’re just starting to register lighter on the cargo bed’s pressure sensors. I’ll move water around to adjust. I’m going to reduce this annoying little up angle, too.”
The deck leveled below Causey’s feet. “That’s fast water movement.”
“It’s what I’m built for, carrying submarines around.”
The Indiana’s commander reflected upon Cahill’s words and his pending perilous trip to the surface. “Submarines, as in more than one at a time? I thought I remembered a briefing about you having carried the Specter and the Wraith.”
“It’s delicate, but yeah. Mercenaries, mate. It’s cheaper to move all three ships together that way.”
“Then… no, my logic’s flawed.”