“Thank you, Sir.” Nathan got on with writing his log.
“Captain to Engineering,” said the intercom. Nathan walked toward aft.
The Chief Engineer waited for him.
“Captain, the drive shaft’s as good as we’re going to get it. Remember, no high-speed runs and keep shallow. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on it, and I’ll set the batteries to power up.”
“Great well done. I owe you a beer,” smiled Nathan. He returned to the control room.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, we may have a drive. Start the prop, minimum revs.”
“Sir, prop turning ten RPM.” He’d wait for a few minutes; the Chief Engineer would let him know if there was a problem.
“Set fifty revs.” He waited, then increased them again. All was Ok it was time to try.
“Trim forward for ascent, twenty per cent.” He waited for the bow to raise itself.
“Thirty per cent.” Still nothing, this wasn’t good. “Check forward buoyancy fill.”
“Forward buoyancy is rating thirty two per cent Sir.”
“Trim forward to Forty five per cent.” The bow lifted and kept lifting, the boat was soon at a bow up attitude.
“Vent forward, level thirty per cent.” The bow returned to a level attitude.
“Trim rear to thirty per cent.” The boat lifted off the bottom.
“Kaminski?”
“One seven zero Sir.”
Planesman make your heading one seven zero. Depth one hundred and twenty feet. Five knots.” The boat turned to heading, Nathan checked the compass and depth indicators, they slowly approached the settings required. Nathan grinned, USS Stonewall Jackson was back in business.
“Chief Engineer write up your report, I’ll get it off to DOD.”
He received the report and attached it to the signal he entered into the console.
“Lemineux, stream the comms buoy and transmit this message.”
PRIORITY RED
R 2713555Z JUL 86 ZY10
STONEWALL JACKSON
CIA-OPS// ID C796TF722//
TO CIA OPS LANGLEY//N18//
NAVAL INTEL OPS/04
MSGID/STONEWALL JACKSON 479/ ACTUAL//
MSG BEGINS:/7
DRIVE REPAIRED, BOAT CAN MAKE WAY AT SLOW SPEED. MAX DEPTH IS 300FT. OUR HEADING 170 DEGREES. SPEED 5KT. REQUEST ORDERS. WILL STREAM AT 16.00.
MSG END//
“Messaged sent and acknowledged Sir.”
IT TOOK TWO HOURS FOR the response to come in.
Nathan read it and puffed his cheeks out.
“Kaminski. Plot us an evasion course out of here, run it by the XO.”
“It’s done Sir,” she said.
“After that, we’ve a long slow cruise to Kobe, Japan. We need to take her back to where she was born, Mitsubishi Heavy Industries. They can get her back on the top of her game the fastest.”
Kobe, Japan thought Nathan, it’s a long one. They’d probably spend a lot of time snorkelling or on the roof, as he called the surface. The nearest suitable port would probably be Naples, but if the DOD said Kobe, then they must know. USS Stonewall Jackson headed off to Japan for repairs. She needed to be ready for any action to come.
THEY WERE NOW EAST of the coast of Oman and heading south into the Strait of Oman, From there it would be east, across the expanse of the Indian Ocean.
Nathan went to his cabin for some rack time. As he lay there he thought about the recent dilemma they’d been in. He kept coming back to it. They’d nearly been sunk by a Ghadir class. It should have been no contest. A Ghadir class? The Jackson was superior in every respect. Yet it nearly had them. He knew it was down to her skipper knowing his boat and the local waters, but he didn’t like it. Not one bit. It should never have happened, he fought to get to sleep, never again, never. His boat had had her ass handed to her. Nathan had let his guard down. Eventually, he slept.
Chapter 8
ANUPA AWOKE IN THE reeds by the shoreline, she hadn’t meant to sleep. She checked her wristwatch. She hadn’t slept long, if the boat had signalled whilst she was asleep it would repeat the signal at 19.00 hours. Anupa waited. The appointed time passed by, no signal. Dusk became night. She waited until 20.00, she watched staring out over the dark Gulf waters. A few slight waves lapped against the shore. Still nothing. Anupa willed there to be a signal, but there was nothing. Just a dark sea, Raven black and calm. Dawn broke and the sun arose, they wouldn’t pick her up now. She’d laid in a couple of cakes and biscuits, along with a large bottle of water. She found a cabin across the road, it was empty apart from a disused motorbike. She settled down for an uncomfortable day. Eventually, it became dusk and she returned to the Reed sheltered spot by the shoreline. Her signal vigil began. The dark hours went by, she stared with increasing anxiety at the Gulf’s waters. A few fishing boat’s lights passed by. To her left, Anupa saw the first glimmerings of dawn. Minutes later it was increasing, dispelling the night. The landscape was becoming visible. Anupa sat back and sighed.
“They’re not coming, not now.” She stared at the grey sky in despair. They’re not coming for her. Her food had been used and her water would soon be used too. All day and night without food and drink. Water would be the worst, it was hot by the Gulf. Something had gone wrong, it had to have. She couldn’t wait another twenty-four hours; she’d have to go into the city. She walked to the main road, it didn’t take long to get a lift, she was a woman on her own.
It was familiar and convenient, Anupa decided to eat at the Eastern Horse Café again. She ordered and ate the food ravenously, the coffee was a delight. She ordered more. It was the same young girl at the counter, she recognised Anupa and smiled.
“You are visiting friends?” she asked.
“No, I not been Iran. My Farsi not good. But my Mother came from Iran, so I look. They move to England before I born.”
She smiled at Anupa. “I can understand you, My name is Shabnam. Here another coffee, this one is free.”
“Thank you, my name is Paniz.” The two girls chatted for a time, getting to know each other.
“I go into city Shabnam, I’ll be back. I see you again.” The Iranian girl smiled.
“Good, you can visit me, I’ll show you around.”
“Thanks, see you later Shabnam.” Anupa left and walked into the city centre. She was just here to explore, get to know the place and figure out how to get out of the country. There was an airport, it’d be a good way from the city. Probably a railway station and a bus station. She’d a fake Iranian passport, perhaps she could just fly to Dubai? It couldn’t be so simple, nothing ever was. She walked the city streets, modern and sophisticated in parts but older and run down in others. The older parts were on the way up though, it could be old and yet there was a bustling prosperity about the place. She didn’t feel at all out of place, apart from the headdress she was dressed as though she was in London. The headdress was skimpy, if you could call one skimpy. She’d sometimes show leg back home and that wouldn’t be approved of here at all. With her vaguely middle eastern or south Asian looks, she looked the part and didn’t attract attention. Apart from the lustful stares from some men, but that didn’t count she knew.
SUDDENLY SHE STARED at the newspaper stall shocked. The caption said Wanted for violent assault in Tehran. Paniz Mohsen. Her pictures were from surveillance cameras, but they were unmistakably her. Paniz Mohsen was the name she’d used with the airline. The report said she was dangerous and that she shouldn’t be confronted but be reported to the police.